Lu Chengwen panicked. "What are you doing?"
"Weren't you the one who said to give him a quick end?! What now?!"
"Not like this—you're killing a dog or something?! What, is it New Year's and you're making a dog-meat hotpot?"
"This won't do, that won't do—then you tell me what to do!"
Lu Chengwen shoved Ming Disha aside and helped the Strategist up. "The Strategist is a man of dignity! Even if we serve different masters now and have no choice, he's still a friend! When you see a friend off, you have to be open and honorable, give him all the face he deserves, let him die a worthy death, a glorious death, a great death, an utterly tragic death!"
The Strategist, feeling wronged, tried to mediate. "Forget it, forget it. Duke Disha meant well too..."
Ming Disha said, "Then you tell me. What counts as a tragic death?"
Lu Chengwen said, "His head has to burst open, right? You have to make sure his body is mangled beyond recognition, impossible to piece back together. Only then would it be worthy of his lifelong fame!"
Tears in his eyes, the Strategist tried to stop them. "Actually, there's really no need. I think we should talk first..."
Lu Chengwen said, "Senior Disciple Brother! Ritian!"
The two of them had been ready for ages.
Long Aotian said, "I've thought it through. We press his head down on the table, Zhao Ritian brings the hammer down, and brain matter goes everywhere! Absolutely heroic and tragic, absolutely magnificent! Absolutely solemn and dignified! Absolutely spilling his liver and brains for the cause!"
Lu Chengwen gave a thumbs-up. "That phrase, 'spilling his liver and brains for the cause,' is well used!"
Then he said gently to the Strategist, "Strategist, get ready. You're about to spill