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Hidden in the shadows, the boy listened irritably as the little one kept thanking the gods. He almost couldn’t hold back from revealing himself. That clueless little girl truly infuriated him. What gods? If it weren’t for him, where would the roasted chicken have come from? Silly girl, fool, big fool!

Unaware of the boy’s thoughts—and even if she knew, she’d probably just giggle foolishly—the little one was undeniably a true foodie. When delicious food was before her, nothing else mattered.

Her heart and eyes were fixed solely on the fragrant roasted chicken in her hands. Gleefully, she dashed toward the kitchen, calling out, “Mother Wang! Mother Wang! Look what tasty thing I brought back!”

“Oh my, little princess, please slow down and be careful not to fall. Little princess, where did you get this roasted chicken? Ah, it smells wonderful. Whose handiwork is this? Did your Uncle Zhao bring it back from outside?” Mother Wang noticed the radiant smile on the little one’s face but didn’t overlook her grimy face and the bloodstains on her skirt. She suppressed her worry for the little princess and spoke only of the chicken, yet silently vowed to tend to the little princess’s wounds later.

“Mother Wang, I’m going to find Little Taro. We’ll eat the roasted chicken together.” Saying this, the little one fluttered out of the kitchen like a butterfly, heading toward Little Taro’s room. Unseen by her were a pair of worried eyes. Mother Wang sighed, carrying the roasted chicken as she began preparing lunch.

“Little Taro, Little Taro, stop embroidering. Come on, let’s go. I’ll take you to eat something delicious.” The little one burst cheerfully into Little Taro’s room, pulling her along without a care, eager to share the roasted chicken.

Quick and nimble, Little Taro put away her embroidery needles with practiced ease—a skill honed under the insistence of the spirited young lady. Having such a lively mistress, Little Taro sincerely felt she needed to learn even more and improve herself further.

Heavens, how did the young lady end up with so many scratches? And bleeding, no less! Little Taro hurriedly crouched down and gently lifted the little one’s skirt, revealing the fierce bloodied scratches on her legs.

Tears welled instantly in Little Taro’s eyes. She quickly turned away to rummage for the ointment. The young princess was so young and unaware—would these wounds leave scars? The very thought made Little Taro’s hands tremble, barely able to hold the small bottle.

The little one, wholly focused on the roasted chicken Mother Wang held, failed to notice Little Taro’s distress and urged, “Little Taro, hurry up! If it gets cold, it won’t taste good.”

Just thinking of the golden roasted chicken made the little one wish she had wings to fly straight back to the kitchen. Mother Wang surely had it all ready for them.

“Miss, please sit down first. Let me help you apply the ointment.” Little Taro, fully aware of the little one’s true intentions, was used to placing her mistress’s needs before all else.

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