Under the dim light, Xie Liangchen gazed at the pot of pig stomach soup.
She had already drunk half a bowl, and finally couldn't help but look up at Song Xian, who was under the lamp reading documents.
Beside Song Xian was not just a few sheets of paper anymore, but a thick stack of documents.
Xie Liangchen wanted to speak, but Song Xian's eyebrows were slightly furrowed, his gaze glued to the documents with intense focus.
Xie Liangchen sipped a few more mouthfuls of soup, then picked up her chopsticks to eat the finely sliced pig stomach, making up her mind: "Master, I don't think it's the medicinal food that's the problem."
General Song, who would remain unfazed before thousands of troops, inexplicably felt a bit guilty. However, he slightly raised his long eyes, skillfully displaying an authoritative aura to mask his emotions, asking Xie Liangchen, "Then where is the problem?"
