The White Furred Ball clutched tightly onto Chen Ye's cloak, its small body still trembling slightly:
"Qing Jun, I'm so hungry..."
Perhaps, others who heard these words would simply think the little girl had a big appetite, and that after experiencing life and death, the first thing she desired was food.
But Chen Ye understood, this wasn't a simple hunger.
It was the most instinctive craving of Qing Jun in extreme fear and anxiety.
In those past years, she often went hungry, believing that being full was the happiest thing in the world.
Even if it was just a piece of taro, she would bury her little face deep into it, desperately gnawing at it.
It seemed that only by filling her stomach could she push out the fear, little by little.
This was the only "weapon" Qing Jun had to fight against fear, having no sense of security.
The murderous intent and hostility in Chen Ye's heart, stirred up by Wang Po and the Demon Cultivator, dissipated instantly with this weak call.
