Emperor Pass.
Time slipped steadily by.
In the blink of an eye, Luo Yan had spent nearly a hundred years outside the city.
Of those who had come outside Emperor Pass with him, some had long since been killed in invasions by the Otherworldly Race, some had earned enough merit to atone for their crimes and leave, and others had stayed, becoming minor officers of no small standing.
Luo Yan was one of those officers.
"Spring and autumn are dreams, and the years are flowing water, rushing away never to return! Life is like the moon reflected in the sea, a blue luan in the mountains-a dream, a sleep, and upon waking, all is empty." Standing outside Emperor Pass, Luo Yan could not help sighing.
Chen Huai, once a Centurion and now a Thousand-Man Commander, approached.
"Our great poet is pondering life again!" Carrying two flasks of wine, he tossed one to Luo Yan.
Luo Yan caught it precisely and took a deep swig. "Since when did I become a great poet?"
"Every last person at Emperor Pass is a brute. Someone like you, reciting poetry and singing verses, is a rare sight. Who in the camp doesn't know you're the great poet of our Thirty-Seventh Military Camp?" Chen Huai clinked his flask against Luo Yan's and drank deeply.
"The Otherworldly Race has been restless these past few years. They might attack Emperor Pass. Be careful!" Chen Huai said.
"Shouldn't you worry about yourself first, Thousand-Man Commander?" Luo Yan asked in return.
Chen Huai froze for a moment, then laughed. "I really should worry more about myself. After all, your strength is unfathomable, great poet. Even a Thousand-Man Commander like me might not be able to take you down!"
Luo Yan was unquestionably one of the strongest fighters in the