Chapter 613 The Savage Samba is a Good-Tempered Man

r a second before generously pushing the milk tea across to the other side.Lu Qinan also noticed her little action. He still glared at her with his sour face and then heard her say, "Want to drink"He...Junzhi Mu and his group brought plenty of modern fire-starting tools, iron pots, shovels, seasonings, and self-defense weapons like guns and steel knives. Besides the first few days when they were getting used to the island forest, they adapted well.

In the days that followed, they never went hungry again. They hunted a lot of rabbits and pheasants, and even wild boars and a few sika deer.

After roasting the excess prey, they hung it on their backpacks to dry in the open air, serving as provisions.

Lu Qinan sighed deeply at the improvement in their rations. Every time they rested and ate jerky, he couldn't help but lament loudly, " ...I wonder if Qiao Baoer has anything to eat." His tone was full of worry.

Zhu Xiaowei listened, and also showed a worried expression. He even felt guilty chewing on the meat.

Lao Gui and the Monkey exchanged a glance, both looking at Jun Zhi Mu on the other side. Their young master had barely eaten anything these past few days, he'd become thin, and glared angrily at this Lu family member.

They very much in tune kicked Lu Qinan on both sides, Lu Qinan covered his butt and jumped up in pain. Several people chased and frolicked, with another round of angry scolding and roaring.

Jun's master set down the rabbit leg in his hand, his deep eyes staring straight ahead in silence. He didn't say a word.

And at this very moment.

Qiao Bao'er was squatting in front of the fire, boiling a pot of hot water. She sneezed.

She rubbed her nose, a little worried that she might catch a cold.

Before, Qiao Baoer was depressed because she watched helplessly as someone was brutally abused but couldn't save her. She felt that resistance was futile and she couldn't escape this archipelago, she couldn't go back.

Even if no one came to save her, she couldn't just sit there and wait for the worst.

But after a few days, Qiao Bao'er figured things out on her own.

She was so formidable that she should not have died. She wasn't a reckless person; she would definitely bide her time and protect herself when necessary. Even though she was badly injured and dragged brutally into the palace, it's highly likely she was still alive.

Jo Baoer immediately felt she couldn't wallow in despair any longer.

Blaming heaven and earth can't change anything. Facing the wild man head-on was just to survive, and her own situation was much better than that. Samba at least didn't hurt her. Continuing like this, Qiao Baor felt like a complete waste of a person.

She needs to work hard to adapt to the island's environment, practice more skills, and most importantly, not get sick.

Only when you are strong can you have the ability to protect others.

Just like every other day, Samba got up at sunrise and went into the forest to hunt. He usually came back around 2 p.m. with two or three rabbits or a wild boar.

They basically eat one meal a day. After Samba came back from hunting in the afternoon, he walked to the mouth of the third cave, moved the heavy wooden door aside, and led Qiao Bao'er out.

Samba will feed her grilled meat and water.

Qiao Bao'er didn't understand why Samba kept her caged. She guessed it was probably because she looked too small and skinny, that he wanted to fatten her up before selling her, or perhaps even eating her.

This kind of thought made Qiao Bao'er afraid to eat too much every time, and she was always worried day by day.

At first, Qiao Baoer only ate once a day, and her stomach couldn't take it. When eating barbecue, she secretly hid a piece of meat to eat as a midnight snack or for breakfast to tide her over.

Soon Qiao Bao'er discovered that Samba didn't really care whether she hid the barbecue or not; he didn't even bother to mind when she decided to keep some for herself.

After the food was distributed, Samba only ate his own portion and Qiao Bao'er's portion. Unless Qiao Bao'er herself threw it away, he wouldn't take it. Samba wouldn't snatch her food.

“...a savage’s feelings are so noble.” Qiao Baoer grumbled to herself.

Samba is really a very principled savage. The Swiss Army knife he gave her, and the small water flask, seem to have been designated by Samba as belonging to Qiao Bao'er's personal property. Even though Qiao Bao'er repeatedly used the Swiss Army knife to cut the hemp rope on her hands, causing trouble for him, Samba did not take back her tool of mischief.

< Qiao Bao'er’s petty heart got the better of her, and she became more and more demanding. >

Today Samba came back from the forest with three brightly feathered pheasants, as always, he went straight to the third cave after returning home. He moved the heavy wooden door at the entrance and when he bent down to enter the cave, he found that the hemp rope binding Qiao Baoer's hands had rubbed her wrists raw.

Samba had a full beard, was big and sturdy, only his two dark eyes flashed with some displeasure, but he didn't roar at her. Usually, he would grab a new hemp rope and tie it to Qiao Baier before leading her out.

Today Qiao Baier got bold. She's small and nimble, so she darted out of the cave in a flash.

Samba, holding a hemp rope, glared menacingly for a long time before lumbering after them with his heavy feet.

But this time Qiao Bao'er didn't run away. She went and gathered some dry twigs, used the flint she had found before to start a fire, got a rusty iron pot from somewhere, scooped out most of a potful of water from the stone cistern, and moved two small rocks over to elevate the pot above the water. She placed the iron pot on top of the rocks and started boiling the water.

Samba stood there, a giant of a figure, his dark eyes fixed on her. He wasn't sure what she wanted.

Samba was very patient, perhaps thinking that Qiao Baoer couldn't run away under his watch. So, he also sat on the grassy slope beside her. He casually grabbed a handful of tender grass growing there and stuffed it into his mouth to chew. He seemed to be enjoying it like a snack.

Qiao Bao'er turned her head to look at him. She was eating grass leisurely and didn't seem to want to tie her up.

Qiao Bao'er was thrilled inside. She was right, Samba was a good-natured savage! Just like a well-tempered golden retriever.

While waiting for the water to boil, Qiao Baor learned from Sangma to grab some grass from the slope and stuff it into her mouth. She chewed expressionlessly, a bitter taste filling her throat. Ugh, she spat it out.

It's so bland, I don't understand why Samba enjoys it so much.

The water boiled, Qiao Bao'er threw the chicken Samba hunted today into the pot, scalded it a few times, and carefully lifted it out to pluck its feathers.

Although Samba had a full beard, his eyes were filled with surprise and confusion as he stared at Qiao Baoer, seeming to grow more and more perplexed by her actions.

When Qiao Bao'er had plucked the three chickens clean, she drew out her Swiss Army knife and, blade first, slit them open.

When she pulled out all the chicken innards in one go, Samba was completely shocked. He jumped up from his seat, roaring at her frantically, pointing at the cleaned chicken carcass on the floor with each shout.

Samba's expression seemed rather sorrowful, and the way he looked at Qiao Bao'er was as if to say she was too cruel.

Joe's been around him long enough to get the gist, and instantly bristled, " ... You savage! Aren't you supposed to be eating raw meat What's with that expression I didn't do anything outrageous."

According to Samba, Qiao Bao'er skinning and gutting the dead prey, leaving it bare, was utterly vicious and beastly.

Jo Baoer didn't know what he was thinking. She rubbed her nose and continued to tinker with her roast chicken.

She sharpened several thin twigs and skewered pieces of chicken, holding them close to the flames and slowly roasting them.

Unlike Samba's previous simple and rough way of eating, Samba doesn't care what prey he brings back, big or small, he just throws it directly into the fire pit, including fur, intestines, everything burns together. When the outside is burnt through, he bites it open and doesn't eat it, only eats the meat in the middle. Qiao Baoer thinks it's really disgusting.

Samba, however, thought her approach was disrespectful to the dead. Besides, it would take ages to cook this way. She didn't understand why she wasn't just throwing it straight into the fire. What on earth was she trying to do

Samba's menacing face contorted with impatience, looking even more dangerous and frightening. However, Qiao Baoer was no longer afraid of him.

She was in a good mood, watching her roast chicken sizzle and pop in the fire, its golden-brown skin glistening with oil and releasing an enticing aroma.

This tastes much better than Samba's 'pig slop'. Every time Samba throws the prey on the fire, it smells like charcoal and the offal hasn't been removed from the meat so it's a bit bitter.

"...No seasonings."

Joe Bao turned her head to look at the tender grass on the slope. Since Samba ate it without any problems, it must be harmless. She grabbed a handful, chopped it finely, and used it as scallions to remove the greasy taste.

Samba started to suspect she was playing him, "Have you learned it yet" she asked him earnestly as she held a skewer of grilled chicken in front of him.

Samba, of course, had no idea what she was talking about, but he took the roast chicken. He sniffed it warily at first, then took a tentative bite. Then he couldn't stop himself—in less than a minute, the chicken in his hand, bones and all, was gone, swallowed whole.

Sambo went to get the second roasted chicken himself. He seemed very pleased with his meal, though he didn't say a word. His bushy mustache twitched up and down as he ate, showing how happy he was.

Joe Bao'er glanced at him and was too lazy to care about his mood. She hurriedly buried her head in a big meal to protect her dinner.

Sambo had never tasted anything so delicious. He was so excited that he almost reached for Jo Bao'er's roast chicken. After being glared at by Jo Bao'er, Sambo immediately remembered his 'principles' and sat politely beside her, watching her eat. His stomach was only half full.

Samba occasionally turned his head to look at the forest, as if struggling with whether to charge in now and catch another animal to roast.

"...Don't expect me to be your cook." Qiao Baoer hated cooking more than anything else in the world.

Since she was a child, Qiao Baorui had a tomboyish personality. Besides camping and barbecuing which she could manage to make edible, she was hopeless at cooking stir-fries or stews in the kitchen. Even boiling noodles would result in a mushy mess.

Qiao Bao'er ate slowly, her small mouth taking in the fruits. Samba watched with envy, but couldn't snatch them from her. He rose to his massive size and dragged over two branches laden with fruit; these were picked up casually by him.

The fruits on this branch are pale yellow, the size of an egg, with smooth skin, but they have a slightly tart taste.

Another kind of fruit was about the size of a fist, with a thick skin. Samba ate it directly, but Qiao Baoer used her hand to pry open the thick skin and only ate the crystal clear and juicy white flesh inside. It tasted a bit like a larger rambutan, sweet and slightly sour.

So Qiao Bao'er only ate the large rambutan, not even glancing at the egg fruit again.

Today Samba also discovered something, the cub he picked up was too picky about his food.

Both ugly and thin, and she's also a picky eater. No wonder she was abandoned in the forest.

Qiao Bao'er turned her head, her expression strange, "...What do you mean by that sympathetic look"e.But when Zhu Xiaowei arrived at Pei's house in her little Chery today, she discovered a red Lamborghini women's sports car parked at the gate. Parking these two cars together really showed there was...