Amid the neat and solemn welcoming ranks of tens of thousands of officers and soldiers, the air was filled with a grave and majestic atmosphere.
"Return, souls!"
Wave after wave of sorrowful cries seemed to pierce the boundaries of time and echo both within and beyond the Great Wall.
The voices merged completely.
A gentle breeze slowly swept past, stirring up the sand and dust on the ground. It was as though the unyielding souls of the soldiers who had died on the Northern Frontier existed within that breeze, answering from afar the summons of their homeland and comrades.
This mournful scene seemed like a heavy veil of gloom quietly shrouding the entire Great Wall, casting it in a mysterious and sorrowful air, as if heroic spirits had returned.
Time slowly passed in silence, every minute and second seeming to stretch endlessly.
When all the soldiers who had marched out under Zhu Ying, weary yet resolute, stepped inside the Great Wall, it meant that their Northern Expedition—after countless hardships and rivers of blood—had finally come to an end.
"This subordinate greets the Great General."
After entering the Great Wall, though Zhu Ying was exhausted in body and mind, he did not forget proper etiquette. He nimbly dismounted, clasped his hands, and respectfully bowed to Guo Ying.
"Marquis of Victory, rise."
Guo Ying wore a kindly smile, his eyes filled with gratification and praise. He quickly strode forward and raised Zhu Ying with both hands, his movements full of concern.
"Thank you, Great General," Zhu Ying immediately said.
"Marquis of Victory, there is no need for such formality."
Guo Ying looked at him sincerely and said earnestly, "In this campaign deep into the Northern Frontier, you were unquestionably the greatest contributor."
"You achieved the feat of Fenglangjuxu."
"You are a hero