At this time, the Xiongnu military camp not far from them was filled with cries of anguish. The knife and spear wounds they had sustained weren't the worst; it was the burns that were most fatal.
Many people were burned yesterday in the camp; for those with large burn areas, survival was unlikely. Even if they seemed full of energy now, the wounds would easily worsen.
Liu Cong was also injured. Pale-faced, he leaned against the bed and, clutching his chest after being bandaged, asked, "How are the grain supplies?"
Liu Li lowered his head and whispered, "We managed to seize a quarter back; the rest was all destroyed by fire."
Liu Cong's expression was grim, and after a moment he sneered coldly, "Good, good, very good, order the soldiers to go out and find supplies."
A glint of ruthlessness flashed in his eyes, "If they can't find grain supplies, then capture people, burn all their houses and fields. If we can't have it, neither shall they keep it."
