The order was to only allow children to come and collect.
"Mantou!"
The crowd suddenly stirred, and the queue got somewhat disorderly.
Fortunately, the female warrior maintained order, and before long, poor children, one by one, holding dustpans filled with black charcoal, came to collect the mantou.
Princess Wen Zhu did not shun the task, personally distributing food with her well-cared-for hands.
The common people, unaware of her identity, thought she was a woman from a philanthropic lord's family in the city, murmuring auspicious phrases like "May the lady be blessed, live a hundred years."
Her gaze was tender, and when she saw a skinny little girl about waist-high, only five or six years old, struggling to lift a dustpan that held charcoal, unable to reach, she had to look up steadily and approach the table under the awning.
