The border of Nanjin Country.
The scorching sun hanging high in the sky was baking the desolate land.
From time to time, ragged refugees could be seen, wandering aimlessly.
On the official road, a carriage moved forward at a steady pace, the wheels crunching over the hot yellow earth with a dull sound.
"These people leaving their homes are truly pitiable."
A young man took a sip of the slightly murky old yellow wine, looked at the refugees outside with weary faces and hollow eyes, and couldn't help but heave a deep sigh.
Lu Renjia, who was lying inside the carriage, said, "There's no choice. As soon as there's a war, it's always the common people who suffer."
After saying this, Lu Renjia glanced at Qing Niang, who was driving the carriage, and suddenly lowered his voice to say quietly, "Tang, let me have another sip."
This young man was Tang Tianguang, who had previously saved Lu Renjia and Qing Niang.
