Yuan Chun, with a look of heartache, picked up Geng Xiaowen and said, "You're not just hungry—you're too hungry to feel it anymore. Oh, my poor grandchildren, when will the heavens send rain?"
"Mom, the village head and the others are packing their things," said Dalin.
Yuan Chun sighed, pretended to wipe her eyes, and took her little grandson aside, "Old Er, Er's wife, let's pack up too."
"Mom, aren't we going to eat something in the morning? If we are too hungry, we won't have the strength to walk, and we'll hold the team back," Du Jincui said, rubbing her stomach that ached from hunger, her eyes on the half bag of chaff on the cart.
Yuan Chun sighed, opened the bag, grabbed a handful of chaff, and said, "Eat it, there's only this bit of chaff, if we save it, it will last just three days."
"Mom, maybe we'll find food tomorrow," Du Jincui said, taking the chaff and reaching for the clay pot on the cart.
Inside was only a thin layer of water.
And some dirt.
