A quarter of an hour later.
The Yueshan Army's central command tent.
Outside the tent, wind and snow bore down on the camp. The encampments of three hundred thousand Border Army soldiers spread out in layer upon layer, formation flags standing like a forest and armor gleaming coldly. The escape lights of cultivators on night patrol occasionally swept high overhead before swiftly vanishing into the boundless darkness.
The entire camp seemed solemn and silent, but in the shadows, countless strands of divine sense, restrictions, and hidden sentries interwove, firmly protecting the command tent at its center.
Inside the tent, however, the silence was almost uncanny.
Dozens of bronze lamps hung beneath the tent beams. Their flames were dim, illuminating only half of the tables, maps, and the two men's faces.
After entering the tent, Qing Chen neither asked nor waited.
He merely glanced at the commander's chair draped in black beast hide, then walked straight over, flicked aside his robes, and sat down without ceremony.
Yue Ting stood silently in the tent.
Qing Chen looked at him, his voice quiet. "Yue Ting."
Yet it still made the atmosphere throughout the tent tighten.
"It's been over a hundred years."
"Now that you've seen me, have you nothing to say?"
Yue Ting looked at Qing Chen.
There was neither excitement nor fear in his eyes, nor the slightest ripple at meeting an old acquaintance again.
He merely cupped his hands, his tone neither servile nor overbearing. "Governor-General Qing, the departed are gone. Why bring up the past?"
Qing Chen's gaze shifted slightly.
Yue Ting continued, "If this concerns military or state affairs at Yanmen Pass, I will naturally hold nothing back when you question me. As for personal matters..."
He paused, his voice still level. "I have no personal matters."
For