Rice in Sleeve
In the crude thatched sheds of all sizes, barely thrown together north of the city to keep out wind and rain, whole households—men, women, old, and young—huddled together by the walls, staring toward the city gates.
"I wonder when they'll start handing out porridge today!" Leaning on his cane, the old man had risen to peer into the distance two or three times since dawn.
"Yesterday, we only managed to get half a taro. Each of us only took one bite." The little girl's face was smeared with grime, yet the word hunger seemed written all over it. But at a time like this, no one paid it any mind.
"Yunbi County is only a small county. Tomorrow, we should keep heading south!" As the head of the household, the man saw things more clearly. There were so many of them, and more disaster victims arrived every day. Even if they ate Yunbi County empty, it would not last for long.
"If only the disaster would pass sooner. Then we could go home and would not have to leave our homeland behind." More people sighed.
The crowd craned their necks until their eyes nearly burst, waiting only for the porridge shed to begin distributing food.
A waiter from Cloud Pavilion Inn came out through the city gates toward them. Accompanying him were Overlord of the Silver Spear Beyond the Frontier Guan Shan, He Beidou, and several other martial wanderers. Every one of them carried a large steamer filled with piping-hot buns and flatbreads.
Yet they saw a Daoist holding a long banner in his hand, seated beside the porridge shed atop a tightly bound sack. An opening was exposed at its front, but it was impossible to tell what lay inside.
"Eh? Daoist master, you haven't left