"Uncle Xi Weide," the Little Devil shouted out.
At the very front of the troops, a stalwart man's eyes reddened, and his lips quivered as he saw Li Duhong. "Hey, Little Devil!" he said excitedly.
For such a sturdy fellow to rub the head of the kid and plop down bean-sized tears, all of the soldiers around were wiping their eyes, their spirits filled with grief. Xi Weide caught Li Duhong's gaze with a look full of indulgence. He was the confidante of the clan elder and had always dearly loved Li Duhong since he was little; in Li Duhong's heart, Xi Weide was like a family member.
Having put on such a display of strength for the last few days, Li Duhong couldn't help but wail, "Wuwu, Elder Kitt has died, and we haven't seen big brother Colin." The more he reflected, the more aggrieved the little guy seemed, sobbing in spasms. Previously, everyone had anticipated the difficulties of the migration, but it now seemed crueler than they had thought.
