His pace slowed down and he seemed to want to say something, but in the end he bit his lip and said nothing.
His eyes flickered from time to time in the dim light, and when he met the eyes of another Egyptian in the city, he immediately retracted his gaze and lowered his head.
A Hebrew glanced back at him, with a hint of impatience in his eyes: "Hurry up, we are almost there."
The man from Memphis moved his throat, but in the end he didn't ask anything, he just lowered his head and followed.
He clenched the pottery jar in his hands, and a slight friction sound of the pottery could be heard faintly.
Suddenly there was a loud noise from the city gate, and the sound of the heavy wooden door closing quickly echoed in the silent night.
For a moment, the atmosphere on the street suddenly became tense.
In the originally deserted alley, the sound of armor colliding could be faintly heard, as well as the orders issued by the soldier commander.
"What's going on?" A Hebrew stopped and looked towards the city gate in the distance, his expression beginning to become uneasy.
"Hurry up!" another Hebrew shouted harshly. He lowered the brim of his hat, suppressed his inner panic, and pushed the Memphis man to speed up.
Although the man from Memphis was frightened, he did not retreat. He ran behind holding the clay pot, with helplessness and determination in his eyes.
The few of them finally bypassed several dark alleys and the granary was right in front of them.
It was a tall building, and soldiers were already rushing towards it in the distance.
They looked at each other, and one of the Hebrews immediately said, "Quick, throw the jar in!"
The man from Memphis stood there at a loss, his eyes full of struggle, as if his hands were controlled by another force, and he didn't throw the can out for a long time.
"Hurry up, there's no time!" the man urged in a low voice.
"Think about your wife and children!"
The Memphis man's eyes welled up with tears and his lips began to tremble.
However, just as the Memphis people were about to throw the jar into the granary, a cold voice came from the darkness:
"Who is so bold?"
Everyone was stunned and looked in the direction where the sound came from.
Nan Tong, dressed in a star robe, walked out slowly from the shadows, holding a staff that was faintly glowing, with sharp eyes and a sneer on the corner of his mouth.
"Sure enough, nothing can escape the eyes of Saint Pharaoh," Nan Tong said with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
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