Rong Ye was a brave and skilled warrior, and his soldiers were filled with fiery blood.
The thin man kneeling at the front grinned, showing his white teeth, "Marshal Rong, on the battlefield, there are no fathers and sons—fathers and sons can draw swords against each other. Do you still care if we have parents or wives and children?"
As soon as he said this, others immediately chimed in,
"Exactly. If Marshal Rong really cares about us, he would lead us to invade Bei Qi sooner so we can return earlier to our warm homes and families."
"Absolutely, just give us Marshal Rong's command!"
"A great man dedicates his life to his country; what is there that he would not dare to do?"
...
They were all men of iron and steel, each more fiery than the last.
The tent instantly became lively.
Li Xiangyi had long been accustomed to such scenes, and only smiled quietly without speaking.
But Rong Ye was so bothered by the noise that he developed a headache.
"You, you, you—"
