Titled General? Let's Start with Twenty and Test the Waters

Inside the room.

Yan Lanting stood with his hands behind his back and slowly walked to the bedside.

Wu Shan had just tried to force himself up to pay his respects when he saw the old master shake his head and raise a brow. "Master Wu, just lie there."

At those words, the fat man's face abruptly flushed hot. He recalled the furious words he had left Old Master Yan with before departing. He had thought Master Wu was setting off on a tragic journey from which there would be no return. Who would have thought he would be carried back by someone else?

"Raving nonsense, all of it was raving nonsense. Please, don't take it to heart..."

Wu Shan raised his hand, wishing he could slap himself twice across the mouth.

But before his palm could come down, another large, callused hand had already landed on his forehead. The warmth from that palm made the fat man freeze for a moment.

Old Master Yan was not treating his injuries, nor did the gesture contain any other profound mystery. He was simply rubbing Wu Shan's forehead.

Just as an ordinary old man might treat a junior.

"You've suffered."

Yan Lanting withdrew his hand, casually pulled over a stool, and sat down. The usual ferocity had vanished from between his brows, replaced by a trace of absentmindedness.

His disagreements with Yang Mingli had not begun yesterday or the day before.

On this matter, Yan Lanting had always believed he was right. The reasoning was simple: handled in that Yang fellow's way, he could not see the slightest hope.

Since there was no hope, even if the other road meant nine deaths for every chance of life, at least there was still a sliver of survival, was there not?

But today, Yan