Instead, Song Weishi Got a Little Something…

The middle-aged women looked well-kept, and despite being a bit disheveled, they were in far better shape than the others.

They simply exchanged brief greetings with Song Weishi without saying much. Once she sat down, they each pulled out some water and food to eat.

Everyone was focused on restoring their own strength, and no one said much. Song Weishi liked this kind of atmosphere—everyone had their own business to attend to, wary of others but without ill intent.

Taking advantage of her backpack, Song Weishi retrieved some supplies from her space to replenish her energy. She didn't dare lie down to rest. Though these people seemed harmless, caution was her instinct.

She could only lean against her backpack and sit quietly, letting her strength slowly return.

Walking was far too slow—more than twice as slow as cycling. A journey that should have taken no time at all had only gotten her a quarter of the way to her destination.

Still, it had been ages since she'd been around normal people, and being among a crowd felt surprisingly good.

If she weren't afraid of Xie Yi catching up, she would have gladly joined this group for the rest of the trip.

The men, women, and families in the convoy sat in distinct clusters. The leader was one of the middle-aged women who had called her over.

An uneasy tension hung between the three groups. Song Weishi could clearly sense that the aunties on this side were wary of the men seated over there.

It seemed this was another half-formed partnership. The two family units looked friendly enough and chatted easily with the aunties, but they never spoke to the men.

Song Weishi observed quietly. A slightly younger auntie scooted closer to her and sat down in the shade of a tree. Song Weishi cracked an eye open and saw her pull out a large fan and start waving it.

The hot air mixed with the surrounding stench drifted over, making Song Weishi uncomfortable. Still, it was better than the scorching heat—at least the breeze brought a hint of coolness.

"Young lady, where are you headed? We're all going to Huihai City. Are you traveling alone?"

Before Song Weishi could answer, Sister Chen succinctly laid out the basics. This group had come from the city center and had been on the road for two days already. The older women were all friends, and the three families were neighbors who had known each other for decades. They'd banded together to head to Huihai City to seek refuge with relatives.

They'd barely left their small urban village when they ran into the group of men nearby.

The men had demanded to travel with them, their tone laced with veiled threats. Sister Chen and the others, afraid of inviting trouble, had reluctantly agreed to maintain a semblance of peace.

No wonder the two groups seemed at odds—they were thrown together by circumstance. There were seven or eight men on that side, while here they had over thirty, mostly elderly, weak, sick, or frail. They outnumbered the men, but if it came to a real fight, it was anyone's guess who'd come out on top.

Sister Chen was measured in her conversation, never prying into anything she shouldn't. She was the perfect chat companion. Song Weishi found it easy to talk to her and opened up a bit more, and the two got along smoothly.

"Did they say when they plan to leave?"

Sister Chen fanned herself and leaned closer, shaking her head. "Not at all. Honestly, having them around is miserable. We don't even know them, and they insist on tagging along—who knows why. You be careful. If anything happens, run far away. We won't be able to look out for you."

Song Weishi smiled. She found Sister Chen's way of speaking refreshing, honest in a genuine sort of way.

Her gaze swept over those menacing men, and she noticed they seemed to be staring at her too. A few shifty-eyed young thugs were looking at her with obvious malice, as if ready to pounce at any moment.

She looked away expressionlessly, afraid that if she kept staring, she'd be tempted to gouge out those hostile eyes.

Song Weishi turned to check out the others' gear.

Sister Chen and her group were well-prepared, each with a pull cart to haul their supplies—far more convenient than carrying everything on their backs.

The men, on the other hand, carried only a few flattened packs. They didn't look heavy.

Maybe they were running on empty. With such light loads, walking was nothing to them.

The men's lips were cracked, and they barely swallowed their own saliva.

Sister Chen's group, by contrast, though wilted and listless from the sun and heat, were still in decent shape overall. They probably weren't short on water.

The contrast only confirmed Song Weishi's suspicion.

The men were all crouched low, keeping off the hot ground, their eyes frequently flicking over toward this side. It didn't bode well.

Song Weishi's mind went to robbery and murder. If these men were desperate enough for water, they just might do it.

Sister Chen and the others hadn't driven the men off or forced them into a dead end. If her guess was right, that was truly despicable.

Just as Song Weishi was debating whether to make a run for it, a low shout rang out. The men who had been crouching on the ground sprang to their feet in an instant, pulling out weapons and hurling them in her direction.

Song Weishi instinctively grabbed Sister Chen and dove aside. The man's club slammed into empty air with a sharp clang that startled everyone from their sleep, all eyes snapping toward the commotion.

Song Weishi and Sister Chen's sudden movement had thrown them directly into the sunlight. Under the harsh glare, Song Weishi felt her scalp heat up fast, moisture evaporating from her skin. Even swallowing felt scratchy.

Sister Chen beside her nearly jumped out of her skin, hissing as the sun scorched her. She'd never known being a fried bun could hurt so much—the vicious sun was like tongues of flame devouring her life force.

Sister Chen quickly retreated into the shade, not forgetting to drag Song Weishi along with her.

The heat on their bodies finally subsided, but the skin they hadn't protected was already reddening. A moment longer, and they could have been served up on a plate.

Song Weishi's expression turned cold. She fixed her eyes on the man with the club, yanked her backpack around, pulled out an iron rod, and swung it back at him.

Everyone who had just stood up watched as she brought the rod down hard on the man's head. He crumpled to the ground on the spot, lifeless.

A shriek tore through the parking lot. If not for the blistering heat outside, everyone would have bolted long ago.

They all stared at Song Weishi, stunned. The men didn't give them a chance—seeing their comrade fall, they charged forward in a rush.

Only Sister Chen and a few of the younger aunties reacted quickly, joining Song Weishi in the fight. Her rod cracked down with vicious force and precision, sending the once-menacing men howling in pain.

Song Weishi had picked up some fighting techniques from Xie Yi—no more wild swinging. She targeted the most tender spots, beating them until they couldn't get up.

"Wasn't she supposed to be the easiest target? Boss, I'm about to be beaten to death!"

"Stop! Stop! Don't hit us!"