Meng Zhao's words swept forth with grand ambition, his spirit soaring, light in his eyes. Combined with his peerlessly handsome features and transcendent bearing, he seemed to be glowing, drawing repeated flashes of wonder into Si Peng's and Hong Tianzheng's eyes.
For a moment, the two felt that the young man before them was neither some formidable martial artist nor the Dan Chi Clan's son-in-law, but merely a strategist and man of wisdom with a mind as vast as the sea, able to calculate without a single misstep and scheme for the world.
It was fucking irresistible. What ambitious man would not like such a sage?
Indeed, because he had spoken so well, even the two men, who had originally harbored some worries about the future, were newly invigorated.
"Good, very well said! Such insight is absolutely beyond those crude brutes. Lu Yang, you truly are no ordinary man. I feel more and more that bringing you under my command was the wisest decision I have ever made."
Si Peng was immensely excited. In truth, rebellion itself had made him somewhat apprehensive. He did not believe that thirty thousand men alone could stir the tides of heaven and earth; at most, they might raise a few ripples.
Yet Meng Zhao's words—wind rises from the edge of duckweed, and waves form amid the faintest ripples—struck straight at his heart, making him admit that he lacked the courage of this little brother.
Yes, everything grew from small to great. Just like the martial path, one had to leave footprints step by step before reaching the summit.
Who said these thirty thousand men could not lead a tide of rebellion and become a great force rivaling the southern Rebel Army?
The more he thought about it, the more excited he became, so eager