The journey south was unexpectedly easy.
The villagers of Yangjiabao didn't have much luggage. After all, they had already discarded everything they could during their two previous escapes. Now, as everyone headed south together, it could be said they were traveling light—though their load was indeed a bit too light. After days of hiding and the dust along the way, these people who once lived comfortably in Yangjiabao had become no different from refugees.
This inevitably gave Du Chengfeng mixed feelings.
Back when he first arrived in this world, he was a refugee with no footing, and now, he was once again a refugee.
Fortunately, this time, he wasn't the only refugee; everyone from Yangjiabao had left their homes and taken up this promising occupation.
"Good? Can this really be considered good?"
Beside Du Chengfeng, Li the carpenter, who was driving a cart, had a bit of a toothache.
