At night, Nanzhi and Shen Miaomiao huddled on the cart to rest with Zhiyu, leaving only Xiaohe standing guard outside.
Xiaohe looked at the people sleeping on the ground around him and just patted the mule.
He never thought the world would turn into this.
The great drought and heat have killed 2,432 people, and the disaster and famine have claimed 1,609 lives...
Thinking of this, the young man slightly closed his eyes, this was the seventh time, he wondered if they could succeed this time.
Nanzhi in the cart couldn't sleep soundly and only sat up in the second half of the night with her eyes open.
She had a hunch that this body wouldn't hold up much longer.
Having stealthily gotten out of the mule cart, Nanzhi found herself shaking from the cold.
"Sister Nanzhi? Can't you sleep?"
Xiaohe seemed somewhat surprised when he saw her come out, and quietly called out to her.
Nanzhi nodded and said no more, but her eyes remained unblinkingly fixed on him.