I, the prince in distress, send money

Chapter 220 Discovery of Rats
As night deepened, the vast Prince Chris's military camp was filled with densely packed tents arranged in a grid pattern, brightly lit, their lights reflecting off the muddy ground like a bronze mirror.

Fine, hair-like raindrops gathered at the tent's tip, forming a beaded curtain that intertwined with the light of the oil lamps to create a flowing band of light. This cast the lingering shadow of the whale flag in the prisoner-of-war area onto the muddy ground, like a giant beast being nailed to the ground and convulsing.

Mia, draped in a green awning, sat on the saddle atop the back of the big white pig Aisha, her head held high, surveying the tents lining both sides of the straight road with an air of superiority.

Every now and then, she would kick Elsa's round belly, and Elsa would understand and carry Mia to the nearest tent.

Behind her followed two attendants, their hands on long swords at their waists, clad in black armor, their entire bodies covered in plates, resembling two god-like statues. Their presence ensured that wherever Mia went and whatever she did, no one dared to speak out against her.

Just like now, when Aisha rushed into a tent with its curtains open again, she immediately startled the five prisoners of war sitting inside, who were looking worried.

"What are you eating?"

Mia asked directly, her tone quite rude.

The five looked at each other, then glanced at the two iron statues following behind Aisha, and unanimously decided to tolerate it. One of them pointed to the iron pot they were surrounding.

"We...we're eating...ah!?"

Before he could finish speaking, Mia flipped over and jumped down from behind Aisha, then went to the pot on her own.

Then, ignoring the strange looks from the others, she took a spoon and a large bowl from the saddlebag on Elsa's belly, scooped out a spoonful of stew that was simmering and had all sorts of additives, put it into the bowl, and then poured it into Elsa's wide-open mouth.

Elsa smacked her lips, squinted her eyes, and hummed contentedly twice.

To an outsider, it was just the meaningless squealing of a pig, but Mia, upon hearing it, straightened her face and turned to question the five prisoners of war.

"Why not add salt, and why is there salted fish?"

The prisoners of war were stunned. What was wrong with not adding salt and salted fish?
"According to the regulations for supplying prisoners of war, each tent is entitled to ten grams of salt and one salted fish per day, along with broken rice and rye. You should have received those too... Where did the salt and salted fish go? Did the people distributing the supplies not give them to you?!"

Mia questioned sharply, and the five prisoners of war were immediately stunned.

"Dear...Madam."

The middle-aged man in the middle, whose little finger was missing half, stammered.

"...We have no salt...and salted fish...we have barley and rice to eat, and that's good enough."

"Is it really not there, or have you hidden it?"

Mia was suspicious. She turned around and kicked Aisha, who was already lazily lying on the fire. Reluctantly, Aisha slowly stood up and walked around the tent, sniffing something as she walked.

After they finished walking, Aisha turned to Mia and hummed twice, which made the latter laugh.

"No salt or fish flavor? Hmm, we've caught a thief!"

Before the stuttering man could finish speaking, Mia jumped onto the pig's back, kicked Aisha in the stomach, and ran out. The two guards silently followed, jogging after her amidst the rustling of the armor plates.

After Mia left, the prisoners of war looked at each other again.

"It seems like a very important person has arrived..."

When Mia came to him, Chris was inspecting a military public bathhouse set up with tents, capable of accommodating a hundred people for a hot shower at once.

In Chris's understanding, if someone gets caught in the rain and wants to avoid catching a cold, or if they already have a cold, in addition to drinking ginger soup to ward off the chill, they should also take a hot bath to warm their body, sweat it out, and wash away the fatigue. Therefore, after setting up the military tents that could shelter everyone from the wind and rain, Chris immediately had bathrooms built and hot water boiled.

Chris built more than twenty such tent baths within the military camp. Although they consumed a lot of fuel to operate, this was not a major problem.

Now Chris rolled up his sleeves, revealing the pale skin on his forearms soaked in the rain, and looked around the bathhouse shrouded in milky mist, with steam billowing out from the gaps in the canvas tents.

"How many people still haven't taken a hot shower?"

Chris turned to ask the quartermaster, who was also standing in the rain with him, and the quartermaster straightened his back and answered seriously.

"In the area I'm in charge of, there are a total of 981 people. Of them, 827 have already finished bathing, and the remaining 154 are special forces members, such as sentries, cooks, and water boiler operators. They are the last batch to enter the bathhouse."

“Very good. The bathhouse can only be cleaned and closed after everyone has taken a hot shower and changed into clean, tidy clothes. This is…”

Before Chris could finish speaking, Mia, covered in mud, rode the big white pig into the steam, while Aisha's hooves plowed four deep furrows into the slippery ground.

"A good-looking person!"

She pulled her hands off Elsa's big ears, waved excitedly at Chris, then put her hands on her hips, looking smug.

"I caught a thief! Someone stole salt and salted fish!!!"

Chris was stunned. The area outside the bathhouse was also silent. The guards behind Chris immediately turned their attention to the quartermaster.

The latter was also stunned, because the prisoner-of-war camp that Mia had just run to was the area he was in charge of.

The air suddenly froze into icicles, and steam condensed into water droplets between the two. Chris's cuffs were still warm from the ginger soup. He subconsciously wiped his hands and turned around, his boots crushing a half-burnt torch in the mud.

The quartermaster's face turned deathly pale instantly, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead. He subconsciously took a half step back, but was blocked by two guards on the left and right, who grabbed his arms.

"Your Highness, this must be a misunderstanding," the quartermaster's voice trembled. "I strictly followed the ration standards."

Mia jumped off the pig's back, her little boots splashing into the mud.

She turned around, pulled an oil paper packet from Elsa's saddlebag, and waved it triumphantly.

"I found this in the quartermaster's tent—a lot of salted fish and salt. I brought some with me!"

She mimicked an adult's tone and patted Elsa's belly triumphantly.

"Elsa smelled it!"

Hearing Mia call her name, Aisha proudly and laboriously raised her head, blinking her double eyelids and throwing flirtatious glances at the former.

Chris took a paper package the size of a football, opened it, and saw that in the light shining through the rain, amidst the rough and white coarse salt, the dark salted fish was so dazzling that the quartermaster stared at it in disbelief.

With physical evidence here and witnesses readily available, Chris cast a cold glance at the quartermaster, who immediately knelt down in the mud. At that moment, the quartermaster finally remembered something.

Murderers pay with their lives, strong alkalis cut chickens, theft/robbery results in hand-chopping.

(End of this chapter)