The answering voice comes not from the plants - that would be strange, even in this place - but from nearby. It doesn't frighten Xingchen; he had sensed another presence close and he recognizes the voice instantly. There is no reason to fear Eleven in his experiences and his own words are kind. "Even if they are not the best, we must be grateful for what is given to us." Then again, Xingchen is the kind of person who would eat an often picked-over vegetable from the produce vendors in the market, so perhaps he isn't the best judge of food character.

He pulls his hand away from the plants and slips it into his sleeve, keeping himself as warm as he can. "We will do the best we can." The cold here rivals some of the worst winters he's experienced back home and Xingchen tries to remember if he's ever grown any kind of food in such harsh months. Even on the mountain, he can only recall helping prepare meals from stockpiled resources. Thankfully they've been gifted some such food, but with as many people as they have living here, it's safe to say they could easily deplete it all if they aren't careful. They truly must take care of this little garden. "Let us hope the laying chickens are fruitful, as well." The thought of eating the chickens themselves of course sounds good, but that needs to be a last resort. Eggs will be valuable during their stay here.

Those are all obvious thoughts, he thinks. Turning toward where he thinks Eleven is, he changes the topic. "It isn't exactly pleasant out here. I hope you are suitably clothed."