The only difference between him and Jia Xu was that Jia Xu cut flesh straight off the Great Aristocratic Clans, while he simmered them over a low flame.
"To borrow Your Majesty's words, we must do it even if it's difficult. Besides, who told us to become His Majesty's hounds and hawks?"
Jia Xu mocked himself.
Such talk had long circulated in the Imperial Court: he, Guo Jia, Yuan Xi, and Lü Bu were collectively known as the Son of Heaven's Four Great Hounds and Hawks.
But he did not consider it an insult. Was being the Son of Heaven's dog not an honor in itself?
Hearing this, Guo Jia slowly composed his expression and said seriously, "Running dogs or hounds and hawks, all that matters is that we walk the right path."
"Posterity will judge our rights and wrongs, merits and faults. I'm not competing for a lifetime's reputation, but a name that will endure for ten thousand generations!"
Guo Jia believed that a hundred or a thousand years later, his name would shine brilliantly in the histories. Future generations would point to his name and say: look, this man was named Guo Jia, courtesy name Fengxiao, the greatest minister of all time!
As for those now obstructing the advance of the great tide, they would become nothing but a handful of yellow earth, submerged in history's long river, with no one sparing them a thought.
"It's good that you can think that way."
For once, Jia Xu did not needle Guo Jia with sarcasm, but spoke with a smile.
He cared nothing for his reputation, in life or after death.
He asked for little: merely to die for the man who understood him, repaying the trust the Son of Heaven had placed in him.
Guo Jia suddenly remembered