Feng Qingxue saw that the woman was disheveled and filthy, with bones like sticks, looking older than herself by appearance, but she knew she took better care of herself, and many who looked about the same age were actually younger than she was, so she couldn't quite determine the woman's age, just felt pity for her. She rummaged through her handbag, took out a canning jar, and poured some water from her military canteen to give to her.
The limping woman was choking badly and, seeing the water, thanked her, took it, and drained it in one gulp.
"Thank you, thank you!" The limping woman returned the canning jar to Feng Qingxue, stuffing the last piece of coarse cornbread into her mouth, she was immensely grateful to Qingxue, "Thank you, elder sister."
Feng Qingxue squatted beside her, "What's your name? Why are you out begging? Does nobody take care of you?"
