Garrison Prefecture, banquet hall.
After Wang Anquan left, the dozen or so military officers began talking among themselves.
Han Li, the Right Route Battalion commander guarding the No. 1 North Tower Teleportation Grand Formation that night, turned his slightly flushed face toward a middle-aged man beside him and asked quietly, "Old Zhou, what do you think Wang Anquan's after? He's treating us to food and drink today, and he even wants to give us inside information. What does he want?"
"The man has no backbone, and he's slippery as hell. Who the fuck knows what he's up to?" the middle-aged man replied, swearing.
"Now that Lord Niu's gone, do you think he wants to quietly take over as commander of the Warrior Monk Prefecture? Is that why he's trying to win us over and get friendly with us?" Han Li asked tentatively.
"Him?! A fucking surrendered general wants to become the Warrior Monk Prefecture's highest military officer? Isn't that a pipe dream?" The middle-aged man paused, then shook his head decisively. "The temple only lets him remain Garrison Commander to make an example of him for the Divine Court's officers, to show them that surrendered generals have standing too... other than that, the temple would never trust someone who surrendered voluntarily."
"That's true." Han Li took a sip of wine and fell into thoughtful silence.
"Fuck, this century-aged wine really packs a punch. Why am I feeling hot all over and getting so horny...?" The middle-aged man called Old Zhou had terrible manners and a filthy mouth. He joked, "Heh, fucking hell, I wonder if Wang Anquan arranged some women from the Embroidered Silk Courtyard to entertain us tonight... if he hasn't, I'll just have to ask his wife, He Zhu Zhu, to come keep me company...!"
"Good heavens, his