A guard in silver armor knelt on one knee and reported with his hands clasped in respect.
Mingyu frowned deeply as he looked at the cloth tents set up at the city gate.
The people there were dressed in rags, lying haphazardly on the ground. The city gates of Xuchuan Prefecture were tightly closed, and there wasn't a single government official outside.
He glanced at the long line behind him and took a deep breath.
"Order men to clear a path ahead, lest the refugees steal the relief food."
"promise."
The man responded and then ordered two hundred soldiers to step forward and line up in a double-character formation to drive away the refugees on both sides.
When the refugees saw the soldiers, they rose in panic and huddled to the side of the road. But when they saw the grain transport team, especially the young master surrounded by several mounted guards, their eyes lit up.
Thousands of refugees are focused on this place, but not a single sound is uttered.
Their eager and greedy eyes were fixed on the grain being transported in the caravan. They kept licking their lips and tightening their belts until a pain shot through their stomachs, which finally calmed their restless hearts.
Just as the group was about to reach the city wall, a stone suddenly appeared from the refugee column and hurled at Ming Yu.
The small stone couldn't hurt him at all; the accompanying guard simply raised his hand and sent him flying.
But this acted as a signal, and the previously quiet refugees suddenly erupted into a commotion, pushing aside the soldiers blocking their way, ignoring the gleaming spears in their hands, and charging towards the food supplies in the ranks.
"Protect His Highness."
The guards shouted and drew their long swords, completely blocking Ming Yu.
Mingyu sat high on his horse, his expression cold and aloof, and gently raised his hand to place it down.
"Protecting the grain carts is paramount; do not harm the lives of ordinary people."
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