When Zhao Hanzhang and her companions arrived in Xiping, it was already deep into the night, yet the shouts and cries of battle resounded from Wu Castle, and the flames dyed half the sky red.
Zhao Hanzhang and her companions stealthily approached and only upon nearing did they discover that the beans and the yet-to-be harvested grains near the castle were burning.
The crops around here consisted mainly of wheat, with few rice fields, most of the remaining were various beans and melons. It was harvest season, and with this fire, coupled with the autumn wind, the crops would be mostly ruined, especially the rice.
Zhao Hanzhang felt heartache just looking at it, let alone the people inside Wu Castle.
The people on the castle were throwing stones and shouting curses, many of which were vile words Zhao Hanzhang had never heard before, lingering over the fields.
Zhao Hanzhang's gaze fell upon two flags fluttering in the distance and followed them to a robust man standing nearby.
