These words hit home for everyone, and all the militia members were wide-eyed, staring at the boss.
"Don't worry, none of these spoils of war will escape, these two gangs of robbers are definitely not heading north towards home, but should be going south," Liu Zhenhan scraped the mud off his riding boots on the felt tent.
He picked up a coffee pot and shaped the crushed part back to round with his hand.
The gurgling stream washed away the just-spilled blood flowers, and was still spotlessly clean.
"Go get some hay, it won't be too late to have a pot of coffee and then go home," said Liu Zhenhan.
"Go home? Why?" The militia members widened their eyes.