The group of refugees was steadfastly migrating south, but Zhao Hanzhang and her companions were different—they were heading north against the flow of people.
With more than thirty thousand refugees in the group, some squeezed together while others were spread out, forming an endless stream. Zhao Hanzhang and her group, carrying a person against this flow, drew a lot of attention, causing many to turn and look at them.
Someone glanced back at the bundles on their backs and immediately rallied about ten people to quietly follow them.
They were all young men in their twenties, thin but with fierce expressions. In contrast, Zhao Hanzhang's group of seven included one being carried who looked as if he was on the brink of death, a woman, and someone who appeared like a frail scholar. The others were either bruised or limping. Only A Wei looked somewhat capable of fighting.
So they thought twelve people would be more than enough to deal with them.
