Fugitive (3)

Feng Wu found an excuse for herself and went on. "I'm going to Northern Yan with you. I can't leave empty-handed. I'm not a freeloader."

The third son's wife smirked at Feng Wu. "You little beggar. Are you saying that you're not a freeloader?"

She wasn't the only one sneering at Feng Wu.

Food was scarce at the moment, and with the famine everywhere, every morsel of food was very expensive. No one would want to take this little beggar with them.

Old Mrs. Gao glared at Feng Wu. "We're not taking you! Just forget about it!"

However, the next second, Feng Wu picked up a corner of the sack and began to pour out the contents.

It was flour.

It was pure white flour.

As a matter of fact, Feng Wu still had all kinds of good rice in her ring space. They were much more expensive than the flour, but she couldn't take them out now.

The flour alone was eye-catching enough.

"Ahhh!!!"