What do you mean, "Have me say a few words"?
What could I possibly say that would sound remotely human? Tell everyone to work hard, strive to die early and be reborn quickly, and hope for a better next life?
Looking at the hundred-odd tents, Lu Bei shook his head silently. There was no way he was going to force out a few words. He still had a bright future ahead of him and didn't want to die young.
"Junior Disciple Brother, you're being too considerate. This time, Wangjian Pavilion charged into battle for the Iron Sword Alliance and dealt Huangji Sect's morale a heavy blow. As the Pavilion Master, you have rendered great service. Though I am a disciple of the Heavenly Sword Sect, my contributions are nowhere near yours. How could I possibly Become the master?"
"Senior Brother, your criticism is well deserved. Pan has been taught."
Pan Qingsheng was filled with solemn respect. As expected of a Senior Brother from the Heavenly Sword Sect—modest and unwilling to steal the limelight. Unlike those disciples from second-rate sword cultivator sects, who had clearly come only to fish for benefits yet all held their noses high, as though Wangjian Pavilion were begging them for help.
Comparisons between people could make the dead look alive.
Pan Qingsheng was deeply moved and utterly won over by Lu Bei's bearing. He swore inwardly that he would follow the Heavenly Sword Sect to the death, without regret.
"Senior Brother, this is for you." After leaving the training ground, Pan Qingsheng pulled out a simple sketch and furtively stuffed it into Lu Bei's hand.
"Junior Disciple Brother, I only came here to take my disciple's niece out for some experience. I'm not here to accept gifts."
Lu Bei laughed helplessly, reproaching Pan Qingsheng for this,