My Stepbrother Is a Little Pitiful (ChatGPT Translated)

☆ Chapter 8. Little pitiful moved to tears, moved to tears...

Chapter 8. Little pitiful moved to tears. . .

Originally, she would bring back a coarse cornbread every day for him to eat. He would secretly eat only half of it and save the rest for the next day.

A mouthful of dry and hard cornbread, accompanied by cold water, that was his daily meal.

No wonder, she had been in this world for so long, but apart from the first night when they had dinner together, she had never seen him eat again.

No wonder every time she asked him if he had eaten breakfast, Cheng Qingzhi always evaded the question.

He lied to her, saying that he had already eaten, when in fact he hadn't eaten at all.

The flour in the kitchen had hardly been touched. He relied on half a piece of coarse cornbread all day long. No wonder he was so thin, it was heartbreaking.

She thought that with him by her side, even if they couldn't have extravagant meals, at least they could have enough to eat. She never expected him to torture himself like this.

The shadow left by the original body was too big. She didn't know how to make him understand that she was no longer the original Cheng Songer.

Leaning against the door, she let out a soft sigh.

Cheng Qingzhi, who was biting on the dry and hard cornbread with his head down, trembled all over like a frightened little animal. He timidly raised his head, as if even his pupils were trembling.

Even after spending a few days together, Cheng Qingzhi's perception of her had slightly changed, but the primal fear was still ingrained.

He was still so afraid of her.

Fear was like an imprint engraved in his genes, something that could never be eradicated.

Well, the original owner had tormented him for ten years, and his family background had also made him feel insecure. Merely saying a few nice words to her might not give him a sense of security.

Since words couldn't convince him, then she would use practical actions.

The ancient kitchen had almost no light except for a wooden door and an exhaust vent. It was pitch black inside the room.

She slightly bent down and squatted in front of Cheng Qingzhi.

The light shines in from behind, she smiles, and the expression that Cheng Qingzhi used to fear so much now seems somewhat bright to him.

"Is this all you're going to eat?" she asks softly, afraid of scaring him.

Cheng Qingzhi's lightly furrowed brows tighten nervously as he cautiously nods.

Then his eyes quickly scan Cheng Songer's face, as if assessing her emotional response. As long as there is even the slightest sign of her face darkening, he immediately kneels down.

Sure enough, he sees Cheng Songer's brows furrow, as if she is very dissatisfied. He instinctively becomes nervous and wants to kneel down.

But Cheng Songer doesn't give him the chance.

She takes his hand and leads him out of the kitchen.

Her hand is warm, as if there is a continuous flow of heat from within her body.

Cheng Qingzhi instinctively follows her, his gaze fixed on the wrist she is holding, the warmth enveloping him like the sun, momentarily forgetting even his fear.

"Look, these are the things I bought from the market this morning," she points to the pile of things on the small table in the courtyard.

Cheng Qingzhi looks at the things in front of him - rice, flour, pork, lard, cabbage, radish, scallions, ginger, garlic, and various other items. Having lived in this desolate and hopeless home for so long, seeing all this, Cheng Qingzhi is momentarily stunned.