Don't farm, cultivate immortality!

She's not human!

She might be... a human-shaped demon, carrying bamboo sticks to learn about the human world so as not to give herself away!

Zhuang Xing felt he had discovered a secret hidden deep within. At the same time, his mother entered the room, carrying a wooden tray with a bowl of steaming sweet potato porridge, along with two small dishes of sliced ​​smoked meat and fried fish.

To entertain the female knight-errant, her mother brought out two plates of meat. One of the plates wasn't even smoked or dried meat, but fresh fish. In those days of scarcity, this was already the treatment of a super honored guest.

"Miss Yan, please enjoy your meal."

"..."

"Ok."

Mother placed the food on the table.

"Miss Yan, the village asked me to inquire if you know where that tiger spirit went... or if it might return."

Yan Huai'an had just picked up his chopsticks when she looked up, but remained silent for a long time.

The answer to this question probably isn't among her bamboo skewers; it will test her ability to adapt to changing circumstances.

She held it in for quite a while, and finally opened her mouth slightly and said two words.

"died."

"Dead?" Mother looked puzzled.

These two words had no subject before them and were irrelevant to the question, but Zhuang Xing understood that the heroine meant that the tiger spirit was dead and would not come back.

Perhaps she couldn't come up with such a long sentence, so she used the word "dead" instead.

"Is that tiger spirit dead?" Mother asked after a pause.

Yan Huai'an nodded.

"Did Miss Yan kill it?"

Yan Huai'an nodded.

Mother seemed to have mastered the art of communicating with Yan Huai'an. If she asked him something specific, he would hesitate, but if the answer to the question only required nodding or shaking his head, he could get a quick reply.

After receiving the answer, the mother breathed a sigh of relief.

“Miss Yan… do you know where that tiger spirit died? Could you tell us? After all, it was a man-eating monster. People died in the village last night, and Zhuang’er and I were almost eaten by the tiger spirit. Everyone in the village is very uneasy. We can only feel at ease after we see the tiger spirit’s corpse.”

"..." Yan Huai'an did not reply immediately.

Mother probably realized that this question would be difficult to answer, because to answer "where did the tiger spirit die?", she would have to give a specific location, which was not a simple question that could be answered with a nod or a shake of the head.

After a while, Mother changed her question.

"Miss Yan, could you take us to see the tiger spirit's corpse?"

Yan Huai'an nodded, and not only nodded, she put down her chopsticks and stood up.

"No rush, no rush," Mother said. "Miss Yan, eat something first and rest for a while. I'll go and call the person over."

She sat down again.

Mother probably didn't want to disturb the heroine's meal, so she quickly went out.

Only Zhuang Xing and the female knight were left in the room. As soon as her mother left, the female knight quickly took out the bamboo skewers. While eating, she read the words carved on them in a very low voice, her expression serious.

Zhuang Xing felt something was off, but couldn't quite put his finger on it.

While he was thinking, the female warrior finished her congee and side dishes, and then she put the bowl and chopsticks away on the tray.

Then, she came to the bedside, and Zhuang Xing felt her gaze focused on him.

What is this for?

Did I get caught spying on... oops... caring about the female knight?

I'm just a three-month-old baby, I don't know anything!

The female warrior stood motionless in front of the bed. Although her eyes were closed, Zhuang Xing knew that she had blocked out all the sunlight, and he could clearly feel that the surrounding light had become much dimmer.

Zhuang Xing felt a little unsure and dared not make any rash moves.

Suddenly, he felt a finger poking his cheek, the movement extremely careful, as if afraid of waking him up.

Then, he felt the bed sink slightly.

The female warrior sat down and waited a few seconds before seemingly bending over.

Then, he felt a slight sense of weightlessness; he was being lifted up...

The female warrior hugged him, nuzzled his face, and her soft hair brushed against his cheek, making him feel ticklish.

The female warrior would pinch his face, rub against him, and sometimes even hold his hand.

What are they doing?

Do you think I'm some kind of kitten or puppy?

After a while, Zhuang Xing heard a faint sigh. He was put down, but even after he was put down, a finger kept poking at him, making Zhuang Xing a little impatient.

If you want to start, just start! You're halfway through, making people really itchy, do you even know that?

If it were an ordinary child, she would most likely have already made them cry.

Fortunately, Zhuang Xing wasn't an ordinary child, so this was within his tolerance. From another perspective, it shows that he was very likable.

Although he had never looked in a mirror since birth and didn't know what he looked like, judging from the female warrior's behavior, Zhuang Xing felt that he must be a beautifully sculpted baby.

But... I miss my mother so much...

No, a hug from Mom is the most comfortable.

Perhaps his mother heard his thoughts, for there was another commotion outside.

Finally, she could no longer feel that restless finger. The female warrior got off the bed, and Zhuang Xing squinted his eyes and saw that she was pretending to be serious again, sitting at the table as if she had just finished eating.

Chapter 8 Longing is the emotion furthest from understanding

Zhuang Xing sighed slightly. The female knight was a little different from what he had imagined, but that did not affect his admiration. He could not forget the female knight's heroic figure last night, and he could not forget the scene of her wielding her sword to kill the tiger. Even now, when he thought about it, those scenes were still very clear.

This kind of haunting feeling, let's call it the white moonlight.

Moreover, regardless of the heroine's personality, what Zhuang Xing admires is her sword and her heart for saving people. As someone who has been bombarded and baptized by the internet, what kind of beautiful women hasn't he seen?

Having only a pretty face makes you an internet celebrity or a beauty, but someone like Yan Huai'an is a true female knight-errant.

For some reason, Zhuang Xing noticed that the heroine's feet, hidden under the table, seemed... to be trembling slightly...

She started shaking her legs after her mother led a group of villagers into the house.

What happened? Is it not fully recovered yet?

But holding a sword is a bit much, isn't it? There are just a few more people here, so there's no need to make the atmosphere so tense.

You killed such a big tiger, why are you panicking about a group of unarmed villagers?

Besides, if the villagers wanted to take action, they would have already drawn tally marks on your thighs while you were unconscious in bed. Why would they wait until you woke up to come and attack you?

Zhuang Xing has once again discovered a key point...

This symptom started when her mother led people into the house, and when her mother was alone, the heroine was just a little less talkative.

My mother led about seven or eight people into the house, and the number of people soared from one to nearly double digits.

Based on this deduction, could it be that... she's simply afraid of crowds?

Is she afraid of communicating with people?

Thinking about it this way, she had a reason for carrying that bundle of bamboo skewers with her.

Because I'm not good at communicating with strangers, I need to practice often. I will never speak if I can answer a question with a nod or a shake of my head. If I can say something in one word, I will never use two words. If I have more than two words, I will just keep them to myself.

Such a powerful demon hunter is actually quiet and introverted, and he even likes to secretly pinch his child's cheeks when the child's mother isn't around?

Zhuang Xing was reluctant to believe this conclusion, but he noticed that when everyone's eyes were focused on Yan Huai'an, she gripped her sword even tighter, as if she would draw it at any moment.

Zhuang Xing had a premonition that if the villagers continued to stare at her intently, something very unpleasant was bound to happen.

Zhuang Xing felt it was necessary to help the female warrior share some of the pressure, lest she become impulsive and lose her sense of reason.

"Waaaaah!" he cried out loudly.

This tactic worked, and everyone's attention was immediately drawn to him.

His mother quickly ran out from the crowd and hugged him tightly.

"Is the child hungry? Or has he wet his pants?" Aunt Wang asked last night when she brought over the hot water bucket.

"She must be hungry, Aunt Wang. I'll leave this to you. I'm going next door to breastfeed Zhuang'er," the mother said.

No, Mother, if we leave, won't this house only be filled with strangers that the heroine doesn't recognize?

We need to think of a solution.

Got it!

Zhuang Xing stretched out his little hand towards Yan Huai'an, crying and trying his best to imitate a pitiful expression of wanting a hug.

Yan Huai'an took her hand out from under the table, loosened her grip on the sword hilt, and although her face was expressionless, it seemed that she intended to take the opportunity to hug Zhuang Xing.

"Is he...frightened?" Aunt Wang sighed. "Being captured by that monster last night must have terrified the child."

"No, Zhuang'er, even though Miss Yan saved you, we can't cause her any more trouble." Mother patted Zhuang Xing's little head.

"..." Yan Huai'an lowered his head slightly, as if he was a little disappointed.

Zhuang Xing then cried loudly again, showing a strong determination that he wouldn't stop unless Yan Huai'an held him.

The people in the room looked at each other, and then... a few minutes later... Zhuang Xing opened his big, dark eyes wide and sat quietly on Yan Huai'an's lap.

Yan Huai'an slipped her hand under his forearm and hugged him. Her movements were a little stiff, and from an outsider's perspective, she might seem a little unaccustomed and uncomfortable.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Yan," her mother apologized.

“It’s nothing…” Yan Huai’an said.

Afterwards, the mother, as a representative of the villagers, spoke with Yan Huai'an.

"My name is Yan Huai'an, and I am a demon hunter." Yan Huai'an recited this sentence in a monotone tone.