The transition from the bright, salt-kissed air of the island to the shaded interior of the cave usually took a moment for the eyes to adjust.
But Su Qinglan didn't wait for her vision to clear. Her heart was hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
"Who are you?" she demanded, her voice sharp with a mother's instinctive alarm.
She dropped the bundle of wild onions and the flat cooking stone, the heavy thud echoing against the cave walls. She rushed toward the sleeping area, her breath catching in her throat.
However, the frantic pace of her footsteps came to a halt.
Standing by the blanket was not a suspicious figure, Su Qinglan found herself staring at a creature so unexpected that her anger evaporated into pure, stunned silence.
It was a little girl.
She looked no older than three or four years old, a literal toddler with limbs as chubby as lotus roots.
She had a mop of soft, dark hair and skin that looked like it had been dusted with peach blossoms.
