While deep in thought, a child of about five or six years old ran up, timidly tugged at the hem of her clothes, and handed her a large pancake, saying, "Immortal, this pancake is for you. Mother said, it's because you saved the lives of all our tribe."
The pancake in her hand was made of highland barley flour, shaking it could still make tiny ice shards fall off, yet it was already rare food. Many people took out from their bundles fist-sized coarse bread rolls, which in the cold weather had long hardened like stones, capable of denting someone's head if thrown.
