Si Jiuyue picked up the rag and examined it again and again, a strange feeling lingering in her heart—it turned out someone had already traveled this path before.
She hoped the people ahead hadn't stripped the mountain too bare.
It was autumn, and the mountain forests were ablaze with colorful foliage. In modern times, anyone seeing this would be overjoyed, but for refugees fleeing famine, they didn't even want to spare it a second glance. In autumn, the little children all went out to gather dry grass for starting fires.
Chapter 171