Chen Fen swept his gaze one last time; the register of bamboo slips for distributing annual salaries had all been read aloud.
"All annual salaries for Sha Village's surviving and uninjured elite soldiers have been fully distributed." Chen Fen closed the bamboo slip and declared loudly.
As soon as these words were spoken.
There were still ten or so households in the village who had not received their annual salary.
And every one of them was thrown into panic.
"My son's name hasn't been called? Has something happened to him on the battlefield?"
"No, it can't be, he's only been serving for two years, he won't come to harm. He's just seventeen."
"He's fine, I'm sure he's fine."
"Sir, my son Wu Lin, is his name really not on the list for annual salary?"
"Sir..."
None of those who hadn't received their annual salary could keep calm.
This included Zhao Ying.
She had been anxious from the beginning.
Now, her heart was firmly lodged in her throat, and her face had grown pale.
