At last, the man he had been waiting for had arrived!
Amid the summer thunderstorm, Liu Acheng felt comfortable all over... A moment's thought made it obvious: if keeping his thirteen thousand men here was miserable, how could the other side's twenty thousand troops be any less miserable? If he worried about missing the great battle at the end of the year, didn't the other side have to worry too?
But Fu Yan, like him, was responsible for the troops under his command. A commander taking the initiative to seek peace, or being the first to reduce the intensity of the fighting, would itself affect morale, so neither would loosen his grip.
But wasn't there someone who did not have to worry about his subordinates' morale, who also wanted to avoid missing the great battle at year's end, and whose standing was very high?
"Xuanming, Xuanming! I've missed you to death." Liu Cheng went out and, ignoring how soaking wet the other man was, stepped forward under the veranda and threw his arms around him, his affection sincere and ardent.
At this moment, apart from Jiang Gan, who had just returned to Shouchun, Quan Yi stood at the head of the others beneath the veranda: Fu Jian, with no rag in his hand, Zhang Zhong, standing with a hand on his saber, She Yuan, and the rest. All watched the scene with slightly restrained smiles.
Zhu Xu, Wang Xianzhi, and Zhu Chuo were seeing this close kinsman of Northern Yan's imperial house, whose fame thundered in their ears, for the first time. They could not help poking their heads out of the side room's window to look.
Only Shen Jin, who had escorted the man over from the front, felt that these people were far too rude. After all, he