As Jing Li watched, his stomach couldn't help but growl again.

Jing Li was torn between conscience and desire in his mind.

He had been sleeping soundly just now and wasn't sure how long Qin Zhao had been out, let alone where he had gone. But the sickly man was in such poor health, he probably wouldn't have been gone for long.

Maybe he's coming back soon.

He doesn't have much time left, so he should concentrate on thinking about how to change back.

But……

I'm so hungry and want to eat.

The chicken leg was originally roasted for him to eat.

Jing Li pursed his lips, patted his tail on the bench, and gently moved a few inches towards the stove. He moved closer bit by bit, picked up the fire stick beside the stove and poked the fire twice.

Pop.

The chicken leg covered with yellow mud rolled out of the fire and broke into pieces on the ground.

The aroma of meat instantly overflowed.

Jing Li's eyes lit up.

.

The afternoon sun was blazing, and Qin Zhao was walking in the mountains with a backpack on his back. A layer of fine sweat formed on his forehead.

After a moment, he finally couldn't suppress the blood surging in his chest, and he bent over and coughed while holding onto a tree trunk by the roadside.

He coughed so hard that his throat hurt and he tasted blood in his mouth.

Qin Zhao sat down beside the tree and took out the water bottle from his waist to rinse his mouth.

The bloody smell in his mouth was temporarily suppressed. Qin Zhao panted silently for a moment and smiled bitterly: "My useless body..."

The sun was scorching hot, and Qin Zhao raised his hands to shield his forehead, and inadvertently glanced at his own hands.

His hands didn't resemble those of an ordinary scholar, much less those of someone who had worked hard. The fingertips and base of his right hand were covered with calluses, thin from lack of use.

That's the mark of martial arts training.

Qin Zhao could hardly feel any strength in this body. Years of illness had destroyed his muscles and bones. Not to mention practicing martial arts, even walking a few steps made him feel breathless.

But when encountering danger before, that innate self-preservation instinct was real.

Who is he?

Many people care about this issue, Qin Zhao especially.

No one wants to live his whole life as a person without a past.

Qin Zhao didn't rest there for long. He quickly stood up by holding the tree trunk.

He is not alone now. If he doesn't go back, it will be troublesome if the stupid fish is taken away by the cat again.

Besides, I don’t know if that silly fish is scared when he’s alone at home?

Thinking of this, Qin Zhao couldn't help but quicken his pace.

Fearing that the wild cat would sneak in again, Qin Zhao locked the doors and windows of his house before leaving. He quickly returned to the front door and was about to push it open when he heard some noises coming from inside.

Qin Zhao frowned and pushed the door open with force.

The house was much messier than before he left. The bench was overturned in the middle of the room and there were still many water stains on the ground.

There was only a little clear water left in the wooden barrel on the table, and no sign of the little koi.

Qin Zhao's heart tightened, and he was about to go look for it, but suddenly he saw something next to the stove out of the corner of his eye.

The yellow mud and lotus leaves that originally wrapped the chicken legs were thrown on the ground casually, and the chicken legs inside had disappeared. There was even a hint of meaty aroma lingering in the air.

Qin Zhao: "..."

Qin Zhao vaguely realized something, took a deep breath and calmed himself down.

He scanned the room carefully. The water stains were most numerous and widespread near the table. They extended in two directions, one reaching the stove, but not much, likely dried by the heat of the stove.

On the other end, he went all the way into the bedroom.

Qin Zhao understood, put down the backpack, turned around and walked into the bedroom.