Along the way, they encountered many other groups also searching for water, and seeing that everyone was empty-handed, their own hearts sank.
The group's leader, Gu Mingchun, asked around and finally chose a small, untrodden path, hoping it might offer a chance at survival.
Looking at the mountains covered in withered grass, no one truly held out much hope. It hadn't rained for months, and water was growing ever scarcer.
Even if a water source were found, it would quickly be seized by more powerful groups. Refugees like them could only look on with helpless sighs.
"Does this place look like it has any water? Look, the ground is all cracked! It's like the heavens want us dead." There was always someone ready to be a wet blanket. They weren't even halfway there when Liang Xiaojun flopped onto the ground.
