CHAPTER 509: SHE LOOKS GENTLER THAN USUAL.

Daisy Ginger turned pale after listening to George Stephens.

She looked up, glancing at the cave ceiling where sparse moonlight fell through. The shadows of branches cast down, swaying in the night wind, resembling vaguely writhing snakes.

Scared by her own vivid imagination, Daisy quickly shook off the thought, grabbed George’s hand, and pulled him aside to check him from head to toe.

George felt awkward under her scrutiny, but he was afraid Daisy would scold him, so he stood still, letting her inspect him as she pleased.

Aside from some scrapes from falling, George had no signs of snake bites.

She breathed a sigh of relief but couldn’t help lamenting. Truly, a newborn calf is not afraid of tigers; he even dared to play with snakes. She looked at the three-year-old child in front of her, exasperated, "Who taught you to play with such things?"

How could Robert Stephens allow him to play with something so dangerous?

George blinked: "No one taught me."

"Then you..."

Daisy didn’t finish her sentence.

Thinking about how he could play with a small ball every day without getting bored, it seemed Robert Stephens probably didn’t buy any toys for him to play with. He darted around the set; Robert likely raised him with a laissez-faire approach. During his time with the Stephens family, nobody probably played with him. Where else would he roam the woods, catching and playing?

Daisy recalled the Stephens family’s forest-like greenery. Though managed, it probably couldn’t stop various small animals from residing there.

She looked at the little rascal with an indescribable expression; considering all this, the little guy seemed quite pitiable.

Not only was he raised by Robert with skewed values, but he also had no childhood.

Erin Ginger, though the same age as him, had her room full of toys throughout her life. Now, she spends every day going out with James Shelton to gather inspiration and paint, which is much more interesting than a small ball.

Adding more dry leaves to the fire, Daisy made the flames burn brighter, lighting up the cold stone walls of the cave.

With the fire, insects and snakes presumably wouldn’t dare approach, though it didn’t prevent the occasional clueless one from intruding. Daisy didn’t dare sleep anymore.

Daisy pulled George close, held him in her arms, and guided his hands towards the fire.

"You mustn’t play with such scary things again; not only are they poisonous, but they’re also very dirty!" Daisy lectured him, "They’re full of bacteria, and if you eat them, you’ll get sick, understand?"

The child was uncomfortable being held by her strong grip, unable to break free. He checked Daisy’s expression, obediently answering, "Oh."

"Oh what?" Daisy knocked on his forehead, "You should say, ’I understand!’"

George: "..."

This woman is so troublesome!

A fragrant scent of meat wafted through the air.

Daisy unconsciously swallowed, looked down, and saw that George in her arms was also swallowing.

Neither of them had eaten much; biscuits did not fill them up, and there was only a third of the water left, saved for tomorrow.

George glanced at the snake, now discolored from the fire, and then at Daisy.

Daisy looked at him and shook her head solemnly.

In this world, not every piece of meat should be eaten!

George’s lips drooped, and he turned his gaze back, longing for the increasingly fragrant roasted snake in the fire.

Daisy focused her attention on the cave entrance, but she couldn’t completely ignore the strong meat aroma and the oil scent emitted from the roasting black snake.

She realized she hadn’t eaten all day.

Especially after walking so long in the afternoon, her energy was entirely depleted.

Her stomach, following signals from her brain, started growling.

George’s eyes were fixed on the roasted snake.

This child, who had always been surrounded by luxury, was now drooling over tasteless snake meat.

"Daisy," he suddenly said, "If you don’t take it out now, it’ll burn."

Upon hearing this, Daisy’s body reacted faster than her brain, and she instinctively used a small stick to pull the snake out of the fire.

The snake had long since died, its body still twisted into a knot, charred black with burned scales. She could faintly see the snake meat roasted to a snow-white color.

Daisy shivered as she looked at the snake’s lifeless head; she had no courage to touch it.

"I’m really hungry," George pouted.

Now he knew how to act pitiful.

Daisy gave him a sideways glance, then reached out to poke it with a small stick.

Knowing that it was certainly dead, but the ingrained fear prevented her from feeling reassured.

Finally, under George’s urging, she took out a folding fruit knife from her bag, closed her eyes, cut off the snake’s head and tail, peeled off the skin, skewered the snake meat with a clean branch, and roasted it over the fire.

With the snake meat cleaned, without looking too much like its original form, Daisy didn’t feel as much psychological pressure holding it.

The snake was about a meter long, and it must have eaten well while alive, being so fat it was dripping oil.

After roasting for a while, the snow-white snake meat turned a faint golden color, releasing rich oils that dripped into the fire.

George was drooling unconsciously.

After roasting for quite some time, Daisy made a few cuts with her fruit knife, determined it was cooked, and tore off a piece for him.

Having gone a day and a night without food, George, forgetting his picky eating habits, grabbed the meat and stuffed it into his mouth.

It was too hot.

He hissed while exhaling, unwilling to spit it out.

Daisy chuckled as she fanned him, "Eat slowly, no one is taking it from you."

George was so famished, he had devoured a third of it before regaining his senses.

The snake meat had no real flavor, lacking any seasoning, just its natural taste.

Yet this fresh taste was unlike anything he’d ever experienced in his life.

This feeling far exceeded the mere stimulus food provided the brain.

George slowed down, glancing up to sneak a look at Daisy.

She sat beside him, resting her face on her hand, casually roasting another piece of snake meat for him.

In the firelight, she was bathed in a soft golden glow, making her look more gentle than usual.

George blinked slowly, retracting his gaze, lowering his head to the roasted snake meat in his hand, pouting slightly.

*

Daisy tasted a little of the snake too.

It didn’t seem as delicious as George made it look; it tasted like flavorless chicken, just slightly more tender.

She certainly dared not sleep, stoking the fire to make it brighter, holding George close as they leaned against the stone wall to keep watch.

In an unfamiliar place, the child was wrapped in her coat, curled up in her arms, sleeping soundly, breathing evenly, without a hint of fear.

Daisy lowered her head, looking at his sweet and adorable sleeping face, sighed softly in resignation.