Tang Changsheng led the refugees for dozens of miles until they reached a valley. From afar, they could see a refugee camp.
The camp was shabby, but orderly and governed by rules. Its inhabitants were separated by age and gender, and people patrolled and stood guard.
It was mealtime. Wisps of cooking smoke rose into the air, and the wind carried a long-forgotten smell of grain. The Refugees following Tang Changsheng stirred, and their pace quickened noticeably.
Before Tang Changsheng could bring his group close, the camp spotted them from afar. Its people grew tense and prepared to defend themselves.
Several dozen young men came out to meet them, carrying wooden clubs, hoes, and the like. "Who are you?" they shouted. "How dare you trespass on Hai Camp's territory?"
At the sight of them, the Refugees Tang Changsheng had brought shrank back in fear.
They were like two stray dogs fighting over food: the weaker dog naturally feared the bigger, stronger, fiercer one.
Even Tang Changsheng could not help nodding. An Hai really was capable. Not only had he brought the Refugees under him firmly into line, he had organized them with remarkable care. The man knew how to run things!
If the Primordial Yang Church had more people like him, leading the refugees across the river would undoubtedly be much easier.
Tang Changsheng strode forward without a word, holding the Primordial Yang Divine Lamp in both hands, and stood where they could see him.
The aggressive Refugees across from him were instantly startled. "The Gold Lamp! It's the Gold Lamp! That's the church leader's Gold Lamp..."
They dropped to the ground in a deep bow. "Mage!"
Tang Changsheng gave a slight nod. "Have your leader come see me!"
The patrolling Refugees naturally did not dare refuse. Before long, An