Yan lowered his eyes and carefully took the bowl of porridge. It was hot, so he gently sipped from the edge.
Seeing him accept it, Anzhi stepped aside and quickly chewed up her dry bun in a few bites. She rubbed her belly—she ate too fast, and her stomach hadn't caught up yet. Still, she felt about half full.
Then she picked up the medicine pot and began washing it to prepare another batch. Although he was mostly better, it was good to drink a few more doses to help him fully recover.
She had chosen a gentle herbal formula that strengthened the body and restored energy. It wasn't harsh, so she didn't have to worry about side effects from prolonged use.
The temple soon filled with smoke again—over the past few days, the fire had hardly gone out.
While tending the medicine, Anzhi started thinking about what to do next. Even surviving off the land needed some kind of cost. She only had two taels of silver and a few copper coins left. The boy was still weak. Now there were two mouths to feed.
She hadn't come up with a solution when the boy suddenly said, "I... I can't eat anymore."
There was still about a third of the porridge left. The bowl was small, and judging by his size, he had barely eaten enough for a cat.
Anzhi wanted to urge him to eat more, but seeing his eyes sparkling with awkwardness, she swallowed the words.
Forget it. Better not point out his little secret thoughts.
He still had to drink another bowl of medicine later, so this much was probably enough.
Naturally, Anzhi finished the rest of the porridge in two bites. Now she was about seventy percent full—just right for good health.
Yan stared at her in shock as she casually drank the rest of the porridge straight from the bowl.
She! She!
He had meant to save it for her, yes—but how could she just drink from the same bowl? There were no extra bowls? She could've at least poured it out in another container! Or at least not do it in front of him!
His saliva was still on it!
Even though his personality had always been different from those shy, overly proper young masters, he had still been raised with rules. Things like that should be reserved only for a future wife.
So crude! So improper!
Ugh!
Anzhi had no idea what kind of dramatic thoughts were going through the boy's head.
She was busy thinking.
She never imagined that survival itself would become such a problem.
Back in the modern world, she had always studied medicine. Her future was well-planned, her family supported her, and even during illness, she kept learning.
Though she wasn't totally helpless—she could cook, she knew medicine—she didn't have any particularly strong hands-on skills. At most, she could rely on being well-read. But some knowledge didn't surface right away; it needed a trigger to recall.
She really was the perfect example of a scholar useless outside of books.
She wasn't cut out for this whole time-travel deal.
Feeling a wave of helplessness, Anzhi thought about how she always mentioned doing manual labor at the docks, but realistically, with her size, even if someone did hire her, she'd collapse before finishing a full day. Unless she was desperate, that work just wasn't worth it.
Why did she have to be the one chosen to time travel? Maybe the time-travel gods saw her tiny bit of medical skill as something valuable. But even doctors needed food. She wasn't a medicine fairy who could live on air and water.
Sigh.
The medicine was ready. Anzhi handed it to the boy. Yan, noticing her silent, thoughtful face, didn't say anything. He obediently drank it.
"Rest here in the temple. I'm going to look around nearby." After thinking it through, Anzhi decided to head out. Even if it was just wilderness out there, staying in one place narrowed her thinking. She might find something useful—wild herbs, rabbits, chickens, even wild vegetables. Anything edible would help.
Hearing she was leaving, Yan felt nervous. It wasn't that he feared she would abandon him—he just didn't like being alone. He knew very well that not everyone was like this girl—kind in such a foolish way.
Anzhi walked a few steps, then turned back. She saw him looking at her with big eyes and said, "I won't go far. You'll be able to hear me if you call."
Promise: "If you call me, I'll come running right away. I promise."
Then she remembered—she hadn't even told him her name yet.
"I'm Anzhi. 'From books alone, knowledge is shallow; to truly understand, you must practice.'"
Even though she looked rough and tired, the calm and serious way she spoke made her look reliable and strong.
And she quoted a poem—clearly she had some education.
"I'm Yan. No special meaning. Just picked the words from 'childish words and speech.'" he said.
"I know," Anzhi answered without thinking.
Yan froze. "You know?"
Oops. She almost let it slip.
When he was feverish, she had called him by his nickname to comfort him. It was urgent at the time, but if he realized it now, he'd probably bring back all the accusations of being a pervert or a scoundrel.
"I meant, you just said it earlier. I heard you then," Anzhi said with a completely straight face.
Yan remembered—he had said something while crying about being from the Chu family…
His eyes darkened and he stopped questioning her.
It was the first time the two of them properly exchanged names.
"Come back soon. I'll wait for you," Yan said.
"Alright."
Anzhi stepped out of the temple. Looking around, it was all overgrown grass and scattered birds and bugs.
When they first arrived, she had only been focused on finding shelter and hadn't looked at her surroundings. Now, with clear skies and the fresh smell of trees, there was a rough but natural beauty.
She picked up a branch to push through the undergrowth, just in case of snakes or bugs.
Sure enough, a rustling sound came—little creatures fleeing from the noise.
Now and then, she locked eyes with a long, slithering "cutie." Just when she debated whether to catch one, it slipped away.
Too bad.
She wasn't eager to eat snake, but meat was meat.
And she remembered in some books: snake meat was soft and tender, even a bit sweet…
Slurp.
Better stop thinking about it. The more she thought, the hungrier she got.
The sun rose higher, and the day was getting hotter.
Autumn heat was no joke.
The hotter the day, the colder the night would feel. That pile of straw in the temple wouldn't be enough. She needed to buy a blanket.
As for food—that problem was still pressing.
Up ahead, there was more tangled brush and messy branches like reaching claws. Still no signs of birds or rabbits.
Wait.
Anzhi suddenly turned, catching something out of the corner of her eye.
There it was.
Finally, something valuable.
She quickly walked over and crouched beside a healthy, thriving plant.
Red fruit, long green leaves.
The branch came in handy again—for digging.
Anzhi slowly and carefully loosened the soil around the plant. After nearly an hour of work, she finally unearthed the thick root.
She hadn't expected such luck—almost six kilos in weight.
The root looked human-shaped, with a head, feet, and many little root "limbs."
Ginseng?
No.