Such Unyielding Spirit

Daoist Qing Song was indeed the sort who could not rest until he had spoken his fortune, yet he also knew perfectly well that not every line divined could be good news. Life rose and fell; how could everything go as one wished? Especially some words—though Daoist Qing Song had occasionally phrased them more tactfully over the years—were still brutally cruel. Thus, he had always prepared himself to be cursed at or even beaten. Yet Du Changsheng had not ultimately lost control too badly, which made Daoist Qing Song think a little more highly of him.

For someone like Du Changsheng, with such a special identity, such an unusual and yet blurred face reading, being able to calculate the entanglements of his fate through divination gave Daoist Qing Song quite a sense of accomplishment.

Thus, while Du Changsheng sulked alone on the training ground, calming his emotions, Daoist Qing Song returned to the camp assigned to him, refreshed and satisfied, to rest. As for the war, Great Zhen was currently on the defensive and should not make rash moves. The commanders in the army would naturally make the arrangements.

Qizhou was rather cold in winter. On Lunar New Year's Eve, goose-feather snow drifted across all of northern Qizhou. Before nightfall, the snow had already blanketed nearly every place it could settle.

On the walls of Qilin Pass, built against the mountain pass, Yin Chong was inspecting the defenses. The past few days had been bitterly cold, and with the New Year approaching, both sides had deliberately reduced their activities.

As Yin Chong walked along the city walls, quite a few soldiers saluted him along the way.

"General!" "General!"

Familiar and unfamiliar soldiers alike saluted and greeted him. Yin Chong nodded to each of them, then saw that many had