It has long been agreed with the noble families of the eight prefectures and twenty counties, that as long as the bandit problem is resolved, they can immediately gather provisions and fodder.

But the weapon in one's hand, upon seeing those bandits, suddenly couldn't be swung down.

"You tell me, these are bandits?"

Yang Gong slowly lowered the knife in his hand, incredulous, looking at those around him.

He indeed did not see bandits; he only saw in the mountains, leaning or depending on, the ragged people covered in dried grass.

He saw their timid eyes, saw the sallow-faced women and the straw-like little girls, clearly full of fear, yet still moving their feet to block the pot of thin porridge behind them that could reflect a person's shadow.

These are not bandits, just people without food.

Yang Gong understood, he once was too.

But in the silence all around, suddenly someone chuckled, stepped forward with a nonchalant glance, pointing at these people and said: "Yes, they are bandits."

"It is these people who robbed our army supplies, it is these people who are regarded as notorious bandits by the people of the eight prefectures and twenty counties."

"If you want provisions and fodder, you must kill them."

"..."

For a moment, Yang Gong's eyes reddened, he raised the knife in his hand, but it pointed at him: "Who are you to dare say this?"

"You may call me Green Ant Wine."

The person smiled and said: "Previously, I also offered strategies for your Food Protection Army, avoiding a slaughter at Blood Floating City, but while I can help you hide for a night easily, to really deal with Blood Floating City, you must face this problem."

"The world's grain, is simply not enough to eat."

He slowly looked up, facing Yang Gong, and said: "Not speaking of other places, but outside Menghu Pass, the eight prefectures and twenty counties, there are bound to be at least a million people who cannot eat, and those who are destined to starve before the autumn harvest make up at least thirty percent of these people."

"What do you think, who are they?"

As he spoke, he glanced at those ragged, fearful-eyed people, his voice suddenly low: "Such people exist inside Menghu Pass, outside Menghu Pass, all over the world."

"In the eyes of those who eagerly try to seize the world, they have a particular name..."

"Excess!"

"..."

Stopping here, he paused and said: "Because the weight of this world is getting lighter, the grain is inevitably insufficient, so they can only starve to death."

"And before starving to death, they dare do anything, rob army provisions, storm government offices, like locusts and flies, not within any side's scheming for power, only destroying every grasshead king's grand plan for dominance, they are no longer outside the human world's plan."

"So, they are excess."

"Whether inside or outside Menghu Pass, if you want to stabilize the situation, you must first clear this excess."

"Inside Menghu Pass, someone is doing these things, solving the aftermath for those noble family grandees, so although the God-given King is ruthless, he is greatly supported, once word got out he's defending Menghu Pass, all kinds of private armies and noble families assembled."

He slowly withdrew his gaze, landing on Yang Gong's face: "So, outside Menghu Pass, who will take on this task?"

"Or, will you just wait, wait for that descendant of the Hu Family to run into the underworld, singlehandedly destroy those thirty thousand Blood Floating City troops inside Menghu Pass for you?"

"..."

Yang Gong was momentarily speechless, the hand holding the knife also began to tremble slightly.

He looked at those bandits, only to see pairs of hollow eyes, feeling as if all he could see between heaven and earth was desolate yellow, all reflected in his own eyes.

Inexplicably, he suddenly recalled fighting hungry ghosts in Mingzhou, then he was a hero, with ardor surging, even risking his life was worth it, but when he killed that Heavenly Destiny General for the first time, his heart felt odd.

That Heavenly Destiny General said he admired him.

With that blow, he beheaded him, but in his eyes, there was no hatred, only relief.

No one spoke around, only someone glanced secretly at that strategist who had offered the plan, with a suspicious look.

But Think Tank Iron Mouth recognized his identity, only slowly shaking his head.

For a long time, a long time, Yang Gong suddenly dismounted, striding forward, walking amidst that crowd of bandits, seeing the pot in which they cooked porridge.

Then looked up, gazing at this disaster, countless skin and bones, waiting for a share of the porridge.

He slowly began to speak, his voice hoarse: "So, is the grain under heaven really insufficient to eat?"

No one answered him, all feeling the truth was too cruel.

Yet at this moment, someone lightly sighed and said, "No, it's enough to eat."

"Clatter!"

Countless people simultaneously turned their heads to look and saw a man and a woman, both exuding a slightly mysterious aura. Those around recognized them as capable individuals who had recently greatly aided the military.

One had others call him Old Sorghum, and the other had them call her Yubing Shao. They were always elusive, but now as they walked forward, it was clear they had been waiting for this moment to occur for some time.

It was Old Sorghum speaking, his voice low as he said, "I have recently investigated both inside and outside this pass."

"The grain is enough to eat."

"It's just all stored in the granaries of the noble families and powerful clans of the eight prefectures and twenty counties. So not only are they not going hungry, they can even fund armies."

"These people are not necessarily excess. If we can open their granaries and distribute the grain, we can make it to the autumn harvest without so many people starving."

"..."

The strategist Iron Mouth, upon hearing this, suddenly turned pale, his lips trembling lightly, realizing something.

"Not just inside and outside Menghu Pass, on West Mountain Road?"

The woman beside Old Sorghum said calmly, "It's like this all over the world."

"The weight of the world is indeed decreasing, and there is less grain, but at least it's still enough for people to have a full meal and usher in a new day. It's just a matter of who dares to go get the grain first!"

Their words were so profound that no one knew what to say, and among the gazes of the crowd, Yang Gong also remained silent for a long time before suddenly getting up and returning to camp on horseback. For the entire half day, he did not appear.

Only when the sun had slanted west and the better part of the day had passed did he suddenly invite the Iron Threshold King, Zhou Datong, into the tent. He was red-eyed, looking like a different person from half a day ago.

There was wine in front of him, and he was already quite drunk.

Seeing Zhou Datong, he suddenly laughed and said, "Brother, once we enter the pass, you should be the Alliance Hierarch!"

"It was Brother Hu who changed my fate, allowing me to become Emperor. I even began dreaming of this, thinking I could just stay honestly in the big tent and wait for the Emperor's seat to fall onto my head."

"But now, it seems that it's not like that at all."

"Brother Hu once imparted to me the Heavenly Book, so I understand the reasoning. He is not generous enough to give the Emperor's seat to just anyone; it simply needs to be filled by someone."

"He chose me because of my origin, and now, I must first undertake another task because of my origin..."

As he spoke, he had already risen, and Zhou Datong tried to grasp him but he had already broken free.

Outside the military tent now, countless people were waiting. There were strategist Iron Mouth and others from the Food Protection Army, and in the darkness, an unknown number of grimly bright gazes.

However, Yang Gong, amid countless gazes, strode out and then slowly held the sword Hu Ma had given him back then.

The blade reflected the surrounding fire pits, and it also reflected in his blood-red eyes.

Yang Gong slowly spoke, "When I left Mingzhou, I boasted that as long as the Food Protection Army was present, no one would starve."

"Now, it's time for me to fulfill that promise."

"Let's go!"

"Bring your swords. Starting tonight, we will begin a great massacre..."

"..."

"..."

In the underworld, the Li Family's Housekeeper, intent on competing with Hu Ma, suddenly sensed something, raising his head as if the blood light of the mortal world bled into the Nine Netherworld.

The Blood Pond surged, and the Nine Netherworld quaked.

He suddenly realized something and exclaimed, "What have you done?"

Hu Ma turned to him, his voice somewhat weak, speaking lowly, "You still talk about wanting some duel..."

"But how can the Li Family withstand this great killing intent?"

"Even ten clans coming together cannot stop it!"