The people of Liushutun were all beaming with joy; the fear and fatigue of the day seemed to have been largely dispelled by the open door and their warm smiles.

They pushed carts and carried loads, following behind Old Man Weng and Village Chief Chen, and filed in.

The two brothers, Jiang Fu and Jiang Shou, squeezed to the front, their faces beaming with undisguised excitement.

Jiang Fu touched the money pouch in his arms, calculating how much grain he could buy.

Liu and Wang also smiled, which was a rare sight for them.

"Bang!"

A dull, loud thud came from behind.

Jiang Chan, who was walking at the end of the group, subconsciously turned around.

The heavy wooden door was slammed shut by the people inside, sealing it tightly.

The sound of the bolt falling was heavy and clear.

It isolated them from the desolation and danger outside.

She turned around and began to carefully examine the Wengjia Village.

The desolation inside the village is completely different from what you see from the outside.

Although the houses are also made of adobe or brick and wood, they are arranged neatly, unlike the random arrangement in ordinary villages.

The roads were also cleaned very well, with almost no litter or debris in sight.

This seemed particularly jarring, even unreal, amidst the devastation and famine that had left the land in ruins.

The most striking feature is the defense.

The earthen walls surrounding the village are much higher and thicker than those of ordinary villages.

The top of the wall was covered with rows of sharpened wooden spikes, all pointing upwards.

The splinters were long and sharp, like rows of fangs waiting for their prey.

Jiang Chan felt a chill run down her spine: with such a defense, let alone a few scattered refugees, even a small group of bandits would have to pay a heavy price to break through.

This village is armed to the teeth.

"This village... is so clean," Wu whispered to Li Laosan, her tone tinged with envy.

“Yes, and there’s water too. And this wall…tsk tsk, it’s really nice.” Old Li nodded.

"Tsk tsk, look how clean this place is!"

"Yes, it's much better than our Willow Tree Village!"

Liu Dazhuang also looked around curiously, his eyes filled with undisguised surprise and envy.

Butcher Zhang clicked his tongue and said, "This place really doesn't seem like a place suffering from famine. It's wonderful."

Old Wang started again: "Back then, our village also had a wall, but it wasn't this high, and it didn't have these sharp logs... You young people don't understand, it took a lot of effort to build this..." He rambled on about the past.

Jiang Fu and Jiang Shou were preoccupied with figuring out how much grain and water they should buy later.

Liu and Wang whispered among themselves about the villagers' clothing, guessing which family might be wealthier.

Village Chief Chen and Old Man Weng walked at the front, talking in hushed tones.

The village chief's face showed gratitude and relief.

Finding a village with water, food, and the willingness to accept them is incredibly lucky.

Just then, a burst of children's clear laughter rang out.

"Hehe... It's your turn!"

Everyone looked in the direction of the sound.

Not far ahead, in a fairly spacious corner of a building, four children, about five or six to seven or eight years old, were playing together.

They were wearing clean little jackets, their faces were rosy, and their hair was neatly combed.

Two boys and a girl sat on low stools, pretending to chat, like adults, but their actions were childish and amusing.

Another little boy is holding a small piece of wood, pretending to cut something.

They were playing house.

This scene instantly touched the softest spot in the hearts of these refugees.