Zhu Guanqi looked toward the bodies. Although their faces had been covered, most of their legs and feet were still exposed. "These dead men were probably all porters," he said. "Look at the shoes on their feet, and you should be able to guess their occupation."
Hu Xiaotian had noticed this earlier as well. Those killed were all ordinary porters; most of the caravan's important members had escaped. He asked Li Mingcheng, "Where is the survivor?"
"He was injured and has already been sent into the city for treatment," Li Mingcheng replied. "But they're only superficial wounds. His life shouldn't be in danger."
Hu Xiaotian nodded and ordered Li Mingcheng and the others to take the bodies back to the Mortuary for temporary storage and establish their identities as soon as possible. He and Zhu Guanqi then went together to the area where the refugees were housed.
Five hundred soldiers had also been recruited locally at the refugee camp to maintain order. Their main duties were keeping the peace and distributing relief supplies, so their ages varied greatly: the oldest were over sixty, while the youngest were only twelve or thirteen. They had no standard uniforms, and their weapons were whatever they could find locally-wooden clubs, iron shovels, kitchen knives, and the like.
The refugee camp had also chosen three temporary leaders, each representing people from a different region. Hearing that the lord of Eastern Liang Commandery had come in person, the three hurried over to meet him. These refugees remained grateful to Hu Xiaotian. Had he not sheltered them and sent food and clothing, more than half of the thirty thousand refugees in the camp might already have frozen or starved to death.
The elderly man at the front, with snowy hair and a flowing beard, was named Yu