Looking at the low office table she had just smashed to pieces, Shen Tang's forehead throbbed with bulging veins. She was already burning with rage, and now her heart ached at the loss. The table was made of fine sandalwood, one she'd dug out of the stockpiles of several households. Lately, it had been her favorite.
And she couldn't even say so out loud.
She took a deep breath—
She reminded herself she had to learn to control her temper. Her bad habit of wrecking furniture at the drop of a hat was unacceptable. She wasn't rich enough to simply pay out of pocket for a new table every time one broke.
Blame it all on those useless Zheng Qiao brothers!
Xu Xie had no idea what she was thinking.
Seeing the regret and heartache in her eyes, he guessed more or less what was on her mind: Lord Shen must regret not keeping her temper in check, and mourn the more than two hundred thousand innocent commoners being driven to their deaths. To be honest, he felt sorry for them too, but all he could do was look after himself.
This wasn't twenty thousand!
It was a full two hundred thousand!
Two hundred thousand commoners forced to become bandits, left homeless and driven from their homes! They had no fields or grain, only countless hungry mouths.
Now they were more or less like locusts.
Wherever they passed, not a blade of grass would be left!
Taken one at a time, they weren't much of a threat.
An individual's strength was meager; they couldn't stir up much trouble.
Even if they were taken in and settled within one's territory, there'd be no need to worry about them causing damage. But when two hundred thousand starving people gathered together to loot