Across more than a thousand kilometers in the Old Linzi, the person from the Ma Family Ancestral Hall was still moving forward, carrying a backpack.
He certainly knew this was a serious matter. He wished to harbor a false hope, but others wouldn't let him, allowing him to flee quickly, which was already a kind gesture.
Yet after escaping, after scarcely half a day's walk, he couldn't take it anymore. In the village, he hardly did anything; no matter the size of the goods, they could be delivered to the village.
Years ago, he could carry things for dozens of miles on a single breath; the physical strength he had once honed was long wasted. Now suddenly walking mountain paths, he felt his waist, legs, and feet were aching and weakening.
He dared not make calls, and he did not even dare insert a card and turn on a new phone.
