Little Ancestor puffed out his cheeks but finally stopped asking whether the chicken was ready. Perhaps he had realized Xue Yao was never going to give him a different answer. He simply hugged his knees and sat quietly beside the fire, watching the wok with complete concentration as Xue Yao poured in a little water and gently stirred everything together. Once the sauce coated every piece of chicken, she placed the lid over the wok and lowered the fire until only a gentle flame remained beneath it.
The clearing slowly grew quiet. The only sounds were the soft crackling of the fire and the gentle bubbling coming from inside the wok. Every now and then, a ribbon of fragrant steam slipped out from beneath the lid and drifted into the cool night air. Even Xue Yao couldn't help taking a small breath through her nose.
