Huo Tingye stood up and instructed his deputies, "Huo Ziyu, go find a carriage. After nightfall, transport this grain to the military camp."

Several hours later, night quietly fell, and the people outside the general's mansion gradually dispersed.

Huo Ziyu led a group of men to the General's Mansion in secret.

When they saw the yard full of rice, flour, oil, and salt, everyone froze in place.

this!

So much rice! Five hundred bags!

There are also 500 bags of flour and oil...

Several inexperienced young soldiers couldn't contain themselves and rushed forward, stretching out their dark hands to touch the rice bags, the flour bags, and finally hugging the oil drum, sniffing the oily smell in the air.

As they sniffed, everyone started to cry.

We have food! The army has food!

No more soldiers will starve to death, and no more people will secretly exchange their own children to eat.

Seeing them laughing and crying, their faces covered in snot and tears, Huo Ziyu raised his hand and patted the back of their heads, saying with exasperation, "What are you crying for? It's a good thing that the gods are sending us food. Don't cry away your good fortune."

"There are no civilians outside now, hurry up and send the supplies into the military camp! Aren't you hungry?"

Upon hearing this, the young soldiers quickly wiped away their tears and carried the rice sacks onto the cart.

They were starving, their mouths watering at the thought of returning to the barracks to have hot rice porridge.

Before long, the group had loaded all their belongings onto the carriage.

Dozens of horse-drawn carriages were moved in total.

The first ten carriages were piled with flour, the middle ones carried oil and salt, and the carriages behind were all carrying rice.

The cart was large and pulled by warhorses, but because the supplies were so heavy, the wheels sank into the sand, and the horses neighed from exhaustion whenever they strained.

Huo Ziyu had no choice but to untie the reins and switch to manual labor to pull the cart.

A slightly stronger soldier pulled from the front, while five or six others assisted from the side.

As he walked, he cautiously surveyed his surroundings.

After Qin Yue Zhao arranged for the Huo family army to send the rice and oil sent by Chu Xiao to the military camp, she was about to kneel down and kowtow to the treasure basin when she saw a piece of white paper float out of it.

The deity said: He sent dozens of tons of vegetables and a truckload of medicine.

How much is tens of tons?

How much is a truckload of medicine?

She couldn't understand the divine measure words, but when she saw the word "medicine," she stood up excitedly.

Since the last major battle with the Northern Barbarians, General Huo has suffered countless casualties.

Many of them developed complications, and many others suffered from wound infections and flesh rot, to the point where amputation and bone scraping were necessary.

Many of the city's inhabitants, who ate grass roots, tree bark, and even human flesh, contracted strange and unusual diseases.

Qin Yue Zhao's eyes welled up with tears as she held the letter to her heart.

The fact that the gods promised to give her medicine meant that the soldiers and civilians were saved!

You should know that what Huo's army needs most right now is medicine!

She opened her eyes, which were already filled with tears.

She quickly replied to Chu Xiao with a letter of thanks: "Thank you, God! I, Yue Zhao, can never repay your great kindness in this lifetime! I, Yue Zhao, will definitely put the construction of the temple on the agenda, so that all the people may burn incense for you!"

When Chu Xiao saw this message, he just found it funny. He didn't want any incense; what he wanted was money.

However, before he could send another message to Qin Yue Zhao, Mu Zhi Cheng called first.

"Hey, is there a problem with the house?"

Mu Zhicheng's voice was somewhat helpless: "Chu Xiao, how about we just forget about this villa? Everything else has been taken care of, but if we want to buy the villa back, we need to pay off the debts we owe the bank first."

How much money do my parents still owe the bank?

Mu Zhicheng said, "Eight hundred million."