Aunt Wang hastily opened the hemp bags and small cloth bags after hearing them.
A bag of potatoes, a bag of sweet potatoes, and a small cloth bag filled with sorghum flour and sweet potato flour, weighing about ten pounds.
Aunt Wang turned to Feng Qingxue, "Qingxue, our families have gathered some grain to send to you. It's getting colder, so you don't need to go out begging for food. Take good care of Qingyun. Now he can only rely on you. Later, I will have your uncles dig a root cellar for you to store these sweet potatoes and potatoes, to prevent others from finding out. Once you finish the food, we will figure out other solutions."
Feng Qingxue's nose turned sour, and her tears were just about to fall.
"Auntie..."
