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Chen Xiaojun had barely sat down when a dense plume of white smoke, heavy with the pungent scent of tobacco, drifted toward him.
Xia Yun frowned slightly and waved an irritated hand at Zhu Yanfeng and Qin Lüguang. "Hey, are you two walking smokestacks ever going to stop? You smoked nonstop when we held our meetings behind closed doors. That smell has practically pickled our souls. Now our 'guests' are here, and you're still puffing out clouds. Is that really appropriate?"
Qin Lüguang had his eyes half closed in contentment, a long brass pipe held between his lips. At those words, he lightly tapped the bowl with a finger, shaking loose a little ash. His dark gold combat attire shifted with the movement.
He lowered his voice, his tone brazenly nonchalant. "Old Xia, that's hardly considerate of you. You know why they call me 'two spears dear as life': one red-tasseled spear, one tobacco pipe."
"I barely got to smoke while I was stuck over there these past few years. It practically cost me half my life. Now that I'm finally out, how can you deny me a chance to recover a little 'blood'?"
He took another long, blissful draw and blew a perfectly round smoke ring.
Zhu Yanfeng chuckled. His pipe was even more rugged than Qin Lüguang's, its dark brown stem gleaming with an oily sheen.
He exhaled smoke, satisfaction written across his face. "Exactly! Just hold out a little longer, Old Xia. Let us finish this bowl of 'the good stuff' first. Now that Old Qin is out, I finally have a reliable source of 'fresh provisions.' Heh."
Amid the curling smoke, his square face looked utterly at ease, as though this council hall