At night, the two of them slept huddled together, warming each other. Despite how inappropriate it seemed, survival took precedence over everything else.
The wind was strong tonight.
Fortunately, Du Lai had the foresight to use mud to make a simple stove so the fire inside wouldn't be easily blown out by the wind.
But they didn't have the same luck as that bundle of fire, huddled in a pile of disorderly leaves, with only the rocks behind them blocking the wind. Gusts would rush in, making them both feel chillingly cold.
Fu Miaoxue was originally lying side by side with Du Lai, but eventually couldn't resist anymore and burrowed into his arms.
As she burrowed, she complained, "You smell so bad!"
Du Lai: "..."
Anyone who catches shrimp, builds shelters, and moulds mud like this every day wouldn't smell pleasant.
He replied, "You don't smell any better than me."
