He took the machete out of his backpack and handed it to Zhao Xiaoxiu.
The machete stood upright at the same height as Zhao Xiaoxiu. She held the handle with both hands, a little confused. What was she supposed to do?
Zhao Gang stood up and took a few steps back.
As soon as he left, the weeds around Zhao Xiaoxiu, which had previously looked rather docile, immediately began to stir and sway.
These grasses aren't actually very dangerous; they're just sharp-edged, and you'll get cut if you get too close.
But a single fire could set them on fire.
Zhao Gang pointed to the machete, then to the mutated weeds that were stirring restlessly: "Chop."
"Huh?" Zhao Xiaoxiu was stunned.
She glanced at the enormous machete in front of her, which seemed huge compared to her own height, and then at the mutated wild grass stretching out beside her, trembling excitedly, and swallowed hard.
"Hiss!" Zhao Xiaoxiu exclaimed softly, quickly looking down at the back of her hand.
A blade of grass cut the back of her hand, and blood instantly seeped out. The smell of blood made the grass tremble even more violently.
Zhao Xiaoxiu tilted her head back, only to find her head covered by a thicket of wild grass, like a shell trying to trap her inside.
"Chop it down." Zhao Gang's voice rang out again.
Zhao Xiaoxiu stared in disbelief at the rapidly healing wound on the back of her hand.
Is she seeing things?
The wound healed on its own?
What shocked Zhao Xiaoxiu even more was that when she swung the wood-chopping knife, she unexpectedly felt relaxed.
She had touched this machete at home countless times, but never before had she been able to wield it like this.
She's only three years old!
He was still a malnourished child.
How is that possible!
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