The matter of the family letters had been brought into the open, like opening Pandora's box, rapidly spreading and fermenting through every camp.
Although no mutiny had broken out in Lu Fan's camp over the family letters, many soldiers had used hunger as an excuse to forage beyond the camp, never to return.
Early the next morning, the army's cooks once again boiled wild vegetables into soup to stave off hunger. Quite a few soldiers had fled during the night, and when the commanders of each camp counted heads before breakfast, another five thousand men had deserted.
Lu Fan was greatly shocked when he learned of it. At this rate of desertion, these tens of thousands of men will soon all be gone.
"Father, bear with it for now. Once we take Yichun, there will be food. Your son has already blown it cool." Lu Ju personally brought him a bowl of wild vegetable soup.
The instant the bowl reached his lips, Lu Fan's nose instinctively recoiled from the smell of wild vegetables. Since following Sun Ce to Jiangdong, he had never fallen into such a wretched state—but his uncooperative stomach was growling loudly.
Frowning with his eyes shut, Lu Fan tipped his head back and poured the hot soup down his throat. Two slices of wild vegetables remained untouched in the bowl. Long accustomed to luxury, he simply could not swallow such things.
"Other than the deserters, how is the morale among the officers and men in the various camps?" Lu Fan handed the bowl back.
Lu Ju shook his head. "They haven't had a proper meal in two days. The officers and men are all in rather poor spirits."
"We need to find a way to rouse them." Lu Fan first muttered to himself, then suddenly had a