On the verge of widowhood

At night, Bai Qing was lying on the bed tossing and turning, and suddenly remembered Qiao Que's origin in a flash of inspiration.

Bai Qing sat up with a snap and ran to the living room: "Qiao Que—"

No wonder he couldn't figure it out no matter how hard he thought, it turned out that he fed the sparrows when he returned to his hometown during a summer vacation ten years ago.

At that time, he grabbed a handful of grains and sprinkled them on the open space in front of his grandfather's house every day. Before leaving, he reluctantly said goodbye to the group of sparrows standing outside the door.

Presumably Qiao Que was one of them.

No wonder Qiao Que knew his nickname.

As soon as the door was opened, the boy sitting in the living room raised his chestnut eyes and looked at him, with dried blood on his cheek.