"Mom, I'm scared." A female servant and her young daughter hid in a corner, cowering as they waited for the chaos to pass.
"Don't make a sound, Little Flower." The female servant had smeared soot from the bottom of a pot across her face, and her daughter's face was smeared as well.
After she had given a bowl of rice to a starving refugee by the roadside, the woman had told her that if trouble came, she should quickly smear ash on her face.
"Hey, there are two broads here!"
The voices of the two most terrifying men came from outside.
"Too ugly."
"Idiot, just wash them up."
"Woof woof!"
"Ah! Urgh!" After two screams, a dog poked its head inside.
"There are two more people here. Take them away and save them," said a somewhat familiar female steward.
How could one distinguish good people from bad?
In this chaos, it was easy to tell.
Those who did not dare follow the crowd to loot and burn were good people.
In the end, the hunting dog Zhao Han gathered a large group of people.
Women made up the overwhelming majority, followed by children, then the elderly, the weak, the sick, and the disabled.
There were even three blind people.
They had already been waiting at death's door, just like Wenren Sheng had been before. Now, this upheaval had turned disaster into a blessing for them.
Someone was taking care of them.
"There are 1,451 people now. Big Tiger, what do you want to do?" Wenren Sheng asked the hound.
The hound took a slate and began scratching out words: "Sleep."
"You want them all to sleep? That's a good idea. It can help steady their minds." Wenren Sheng nodded.
As he spoke, the hound lay down and began to snore.