"General," the soldier driving the car turned his head to look at Bolton, "are we really not taking anyone with us? The safety along the way..."
"Stop the chatter and just drive!" Bolton rubbed his sore eyes, growing impatient with his instructions, "If someone really attacks, no number of people will save us... what are we supposed to tell them? Is betraying one's country so easy to bear?"
"I'm from Northern Ridge." The driver muttered under his breath and then pressed down on the accelerator; the military vehicle began to shake slightly as it slowly moved toward the camp gate.
"From now on, we are all Tang People," Bolton wiped his cheeks, then he felt somewhat better. He was a dandelion, a wandering seed.
Now, he was returning to his homeland, to his motherland, leaving behind everything he knew. But what awaited him was an even more interesting future.
