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Xiao Ruo placed the food box down onto one of the eight-immortal tables and called to the coachman, "Uncle has worked hard these days, we can't let you go hungry, can we?"
The inn only provided simple meals with not much meat, so her going out to find food was not unusual.
To avoid raising suspicion among the few people from Feng Zhao Country, Xiao Ruo had deliberately splattered her clothes with some rainwater.
Although it doesn't snow here in the winter, it's still February, and getting clothes wet is indeed a bit chilly.
"Guest, is this chicken soup?" asked the shopkeeper, eyeing the big stewing pot Xiao Ruo had brought in and sniffing the air, wary as he spoke, "How come I don't know of any place in Feiyu Town that sells chicken soup?"
"I didn't say I bought it on the street." Xiao Ruo said as she served the coachman chicken soup, then turned to look at the shopkeeper, "Shopkeeper, would you like a bowl?"