"What are you doing?" A hunchbacked, skinny middle-aged man pushed the door open, and Chen Muxue instinctively kicked her legs and crawled under the bed; blood began to seep again from the cloth strip on her hind leg.
Xiao An was straightforward, she stared directly at the man: "I'm feeding the cat, he's injured."
"Where did you get the fish? Hmm? How long has it been since we've had such food in the house, yet you secretly cooked for yourself? I knew it, you collect quite a few herbs every day, did you stash away the money after selling them?"
The middle-aged man looked shady, presumably Xiao An's father; luckily Xiao An didn't inherit his looks, or Chen Muxue might not have trusted Xiao An from the beginning.
