The scorching sun hung overhead, and the cracked dirt road emitted waves of burning heat.

It's been ten days.

The terror and breakdown he felt when he encountered bandits had long been replaced by the exhaustion and numbness of fleeing famine.

The team rested under the shade of a withered tree by the roadside.

Jiang Chan skillfully took out the pancake and broke it in half.

"eat."

Xiao Tao silently took the pancake. "Sister Jiang..." She suddenly raised her head, her voice thick with emotion, "Grandma... will Grandma die?" Her question was so direct, so innocent, yet so heavy.

Jiang Chan paused in her chewing; the crumbs of the pancake were a bit hard on her teeth. She was silent for two seconds, her Adam's apple bobbing slightly, before finally uttering a single word:

"meeting."

Xiao Tao's bloodshot eyes instantly filled with tears, and the immense fear drained the color from her face.

"Everyone will die." Jiang Chan's gaze did not fall on Xiao Tao, but instead fell on the distant horizon distorted by the heatwave, on that unknown, seemingly endless road.

Her voice remained calm, even carrying a hint of cold indifference, "It's just a matter of time."

These words were like a cold hammer, shattering Xiaotao's last shred of hope.

Jiang Chan withdrew her gaze, untied the water pouch from her waist, and uncorked it.

"Have some water." Her voice seemed slightly gentler than before.

...

The short rest period ended, and the village chief, his voice hoarse, began to shout, banging his gong again to urge people to get up.

Jiang Chan put away the water bag, tightened the stopper, and tied it back around her waist.

She stood up, brushed the yellow dust off her pants, and said, "Get up, it's time to go."

Xiao Tao's body was still trembling slightly. She took a deep breath, trying to calm her sobs, and then silently and obediently stood up.

Not far away, the village chief struck the gong with all his might, his hoarse shout piercing the sweltering air:

"Set off--!"

A low sigh and a jumble of noise erupted from the crowd, like a weary snake awakened and slowly beginning to move again.

Under the blazing sun, yellow dust flew everywhere.

Jiang Chan, holding Xiao Tao's hand, walked at the end of the group, her gaze sweeping over the scenery along the roadside—

The weeds have all been pulled out.

The ground was full of potholes, and all the grass roots had been dug up, leaving only cracked soil.

The trees in the distance also suffered; their bark was stripped off, revealing pale trunks. Some were already dead, leaning crookedly in the wilderness like dried corpses.

Xiao Tao clutched Jiang Chan's clothes tightly and asked softly, "Sister Jiang, why are they peeling the bark off the trees?"

Jiang Chan said calmly, "Eat."

The child flinched and dared not ask any more questions.

Along this road were not only people from Liushutun, but also refugees from several other villages. They were not far apart from each other, yet they tacitly maintained their distance.

No one suggested merging the teams—everyone knew that strangers were a potential threat in the face of hunger.

"Stay away from them," the village chief warned the villagers in a low voice. "Who knows what those hungry people might do?"

Jiang Chan's gaze swept over a group of people in the distance. They walked with faltering steps and had empty, numb eyes, like walking skeletons. Several children's small bodies swayed in the large, tattered cloth, as if they would be blown over by the wind at any moment.

...

"Mother...I can't walk anymore..."

A five- or six-year-old boy slumped to the ground, his face streaked with tears. His mother tried to help him up, but she was too weak to do so herself, and could only soothe him with red-eyed tears, "Just a little longer, we'll rest after walking for a bit..."

The boy cried even harder, "My feet hurt... my feet hurt..."

His mother gritted her teeth, suddenly raised her hand, and slapped him hard across the face. "Shut up! If you cry again, I'll leave you here!"

The child was stunned by the beating; the crying stopped abruptly, leaving only sobs.

Jiang Chan watched coldly, her heart unmoved.

Xiao Tao was so frightened that she hid behind her, her little hands clenching even tighter.

Most children are quiet.

They didn't cry or make a fuss; they just mechanically followed the adults, their eyes as empty as a stagnant pool.

A seven or eight-year-old girl was using all her strength to help her equally frail mother push a creaking, broken cart. The veins on her thin arms were bulging, her little face was flushed, and sweat mixed with dust streamed down her face, but she bit her lip tightly and didn't utter a sound.

Jiang Chan glanced at the child a couple more times.

An hour passed, and the team's pace slowed down more and more.

The village chief's gong was no longer effective, so he could only shout at the top of his lungs, "Hang in there! We'll rest after another two miles!"

No one answered.

Everyone had their heads down, dragging their leaden legs numbly, making hoarse, bellowing sounds from their throats.

Xiao Tao's steps became increasingly sluggish, her small body swaying unsteadily. Twice she almost fell over, but Jiang Chan quickly grabbed her arm and forcibly lifted her up.

"Hang in there," Jiang Chan whispered.

The child nodded through gritted teeth.

As the scorching sun began to set, Village Chief Chen reached his limit. Holding his back and panting heavily, he announced in a hoarse voice, "Let's...let's rest!"

The crowd collapsed instantly, as if their spines had been removed, barely able to even groan.

Jiang Chan found a relatively flat spot to sit down, took out her water pouch, and handed it to Xiao Tao, saying, "Drink."

Xiao Tao took a small sip and then handed it over.

Jiang Chan didn't take it, "Have some more."

Xiao Tao shook her head, "That's enough, Sister Jiang, you drink it."

Jiang Chan paused, took the water pouch, and symbolically moistened her lips with it.

"Ginger girl."

A gentle voice came from behind.

Jiang Chan looked up and saw Aunt Zhao standing beside her, holding two wild vegetable cakes the size of a child's fist.

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