Merit Falls from Heaven

The Northern Court envoy's move was like a floating ladle in a water tank—pressed down before it could rise, without splashing so much as a drop.

The meaning behind it was self-evident.

Calm as drifting clouds, light as a breeze.

A tremendous boost to their prestige!

The Sacred Emperor was pleased, and with the New Year Festival upon them, would the rewards be few?

What was hard to gain and easily lost was timing; when the moment arrived, the opportunity vanished before one could turn on one's heel.

Outsiders all said, "Better to bear a halberd at the border than join the Feather Forest Army," but only one's own family knew its own troubles. It was truly difficult to earn merit in the Feather Forest Army. In summer, one fought mosquitoes; in winter, one endured frost and snow. Without connections and without reaching Grandmaster rank, one could only grind away through seniority.

Perhaps before that seniority had been ground out, the old man at home would have been ground to death first, forcing one to return and inherit the title. It was nothing but surface splendor.

Meng Qiang had sought Liang Qu out at night for two purposes.

First, to meet Liang Qu and test his mettle. Once he confirmed there was no mistake, he would bring him into the Heavenly Feather Guard to meet the others, letting everyone sound each other out and suitably arrange their tactics against the enemy.

King against king, general against general.

The youngest would certainly face the youngest. Absolutely nothing could go wrong.

If they won, they had to win beautifully and cleanly.

Nine victories in nine battles carried an entirely different meaning from eight victories or seven.

If he was not up to it—

There was nothing more to say. The capable rose,