The Capital City of the Black Tortoise Kingdom.
Inside the imperial palace's council hall.
Zhao Xuan, the current emperor of the Black Tortoise Kingdom, sat on the dragon throne, looking utterly dispirited.
Urgent dispatches had already covered the entire table before him.
Though the dispatches filled the table, Zhao Xuan could have guessed their contents with his backside.
They were nothing more than requests for relief and resettlement for refugees displaced by the Demon Kingdom's upheaval, along with arrangements for returning those refugees to their registered hometowns.
Then there were the flood victims in Chizhou and other regions, who also needed relief and resettlement.
Plans for dealing with these matters existed, of course, and they were as detailed as could be.
But without exception, all those plans needed one thing-grain.
Grain was most precious only when people could not get enough to eat.
Zhao Xuan had already gone full throttle buying grain from other countries. Even though they robbed him while his house was burning, driving prices through the roof, the grain he purchased still fell far short of what was needed.
Keeping a million disaster victims fed until next autumn's harvest was truly no easy task.
Still, these problems could at least be managed to some extent. After all, matters differed in importance and urgency; whatever could be delayed would be delayed first.
Whatever could not be delayed had to be dealt with promptly.
The thorniest problem at present remained that band of damned rebels in the east.
The war could not quite be called an utter rout, but it could certainly be called a complete mess.
In any case, every time Zhao Xuan read a battle report, he thoroughly braced himself, assuming that the men commanding troops at the front were all wine sacks and rice bags.
He