One cartload of salt weighs two thousand catties, so three hundred cartloads would weigh six hundred thousand catties. The entire Tatar tribe has only two hundred thousand people, so if they eat sparingly, it could last them for half a year. Not to mention that the tribes belonging to Huba and Huqi number less than one hundred thousand.
As for this full-body iron armor, it made Qiangba's mouth water. He first saw this kind of armor on a Japanese man, a squad leader. When Huba asked him how to buy such armor, the man gave Huba a disdainful look, then lifted his own armor, revealing a long scar on his body, indicating that this was the price.
Huba was frustrated. His father had left him a leaf-shaped armor, which he regularly oiled, but it couldn't stop it from getting old. The Great Xia's surveillance of ironware entering the grasslands was too strict. Besides, given Huba's current size, it would be several more years before he could wear it.
Now that he possessed fifty suits of armor, his courage swelled several times over. He was already imagining himself leading fifty armored soldiers straight into his brother's camp, slaughtering everyone in sight, then tying him up and hanging him on a flagpole to be exposed to the scorching sun until he died.
"These armors were bought from smugglers and have absolutely nothing to do with my young master, understand?" Xu Liyan said coldly to the ecstatic barbarians. He didn't look down on them, because not long ago he himself had been in a similar situation.
"Thank you for the reminder, General. We bought these armors from a merchant, but we have no idea who that merchant is," Hu Qi replied, bowing to Xu Liyan before Huba could react. Anyone sent by His Highness the Crown Prince to help his sisters must be no coward, even if he's missing an arm.
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