Everyone was being urged forward as the guards began shouting orders.
"Everyone, get moving! Get your breakfast and start walking in a straight line!" one of the guards shouted loudly.
The refugees slowly moved toward the other guards, who were handing out the dry buns for the day.
As usual, Madame Wu and Fu Fei had woken up early to cook something small for the road.
"Done," Fu Tong said, tying the last bundle and placing it carefully on the wagon where Father rested.
I had just finished helping with his bandages, and I felt quite satisfied with the result.
"Father, in no time your leg will heal," I said. "You just have to keep it away from water or anything that could infect it."
The middle-aged man smiled and nodded.
Master Fu had a clean face with little to no beard, unlike his brother. He was actually quite handsome for his age, probably where Fu Sheng and his brother inherited their looks from.
