Xie Liangchen shook her head.
Song Xian whispered, "I know that a lot of grain and medicine have been sent from the eight states."
It's always the government that requisitions military supplies, never voluntarily sent over, and they are accumulated little by little. Song Xian knows exactly what's going on in the eight states; there used to be no grain at all, and many people have starved to death over the years.
When they were building roads, they often unearthed bones.
After a great battle, the bodies were buried. In addition to the soldiers killed in combat, there were many civilians, far too many, arousing a sense of compassion.
"Du Zhuo's side should be the same," Song Xian said, "The civilians of those states are also somewhat prepared."
Xie Liangchen turned to study Song Xian. Song Xian hadn't returned home for several days. Although his eyes were still bright, he had visibly lost weight, indicating how busy he had been lately.
