I, a food blogger who can chop bricks with one hand, opened my eyes again and turned into a hungry peasant girl on the road to escape.
The parents are weak, the brothers and sisters are selfish, and the whole family is waiting to die. Goldfinger? It's my casserole-sized fist!
When others were chewing tree bark, I punched open a crack in the ground and pulled out a nest of fat rabbits; when others were chased by insurgent soldiers, I carried a big tree as a roadblock and "borrowed" their rations.
I thought it was about extreme survival, but I didn't expect it to be a live broadcast of food.
However, the sickly scholar I picked up along the way always looked at me strangely.
At first, he coughed up blood and said, "Girl, I'm so kind to you, all I have to do is..." I interrupted directly: "Stop! Let's recover from your three-step, one-breath illness first!"
Later, he, who was already the chief minister of the court, held me in his arms. His eyes were red and his voice was hoarse: "Madam, I am too tired in the court and my husband can't walk. Please give me a hug."
Who would have thought that with my brute force, I not only supported my whole family, but also raised a powerful chief minister!
