Chapter 1 The Beginning

On the road near Nanwang City, it was bustling with dense crowds. Small vendors, unwilling to compete within the city or pay a deposit, simply set up stalls along both sides of the road. The flavors of both northern and southern Yan, and even the specialties of Jin, Chu, and Qian, were all available here.

There were also stalls selling various utensils and daily necessities, spreading out in a lively display, like a temple fair. Business was quite good.

Those traveling this road included soldiers, convicts, and other people of all kinds. After the Yan Emperor crushed the aristocratic families, he shifted the power of Yan southward, and Silver Wave County suddenly accumulated too many outsiders, naturally giving rise to a "deformed" prosperity.

Seemingly prosperous, it was actually like cooking oil over a raging fire. The more intensely something boiled, the faster it cooled down.

Of course, the people of Yan didn't feel much about this; they were just focused on living their lives. The great war had actually already begun, with troops from both sides tearing and cutting at each other along the line of fortresses in Qian. All that was lacking was the final hammer blow from the Jingnan Army or a real counterattack from the elite troops of the Three Towns of Qian.

The pride of the Yan people might have been long-standing. At least, Zheng Fan didn't see any sense of panic about the war on the road.

The founding of the Great Yan had been difficult for hundreds of years, but they had always persevered, fighting with the barbarians in the northern desert, fighting with the Three Kingdoms of the East, fighting and stopping, stopping and fighting, never losing their momentum.

Putting everything else aside, at least this national confidence had been forged through fighting. Furthermore, the Qian army was too disappointing. Along the Silver Wave County line, many military figures, including Zheng Fan, were doing everything they could to cause trouble in the south, but not a single Qian army dared to move north.

As a result, the southern part of the war zone was full of apprehension, while the northern part was a picture of "blooming flowers."

The heads were all placed in boxes, and nothing could be seen from the outside. Zheng Fan didn't plan to bang and tap them or hang a brocade banner to create some kind of fanfare for himself all the way to Nanwang City.

Perhaps it was because the Third Prince's fifth limb was truly too high-end.

After doing that, other things meant to bring fame seemed a bit dull.

What Xu Wenzu needed to do with these heads and how the imperial court needed to promote them was their business. Zheng Fan would cooperate but was more focused on the tangible benefits he could get from this military merit.

Political power comes from the barrel of a gun. Zheng Fan had always believed in this truth: a strong army is the primary foundation for survival in a chaotic world.

The more deeply he understood this world, the more he felt that fighting now wasn't just a game. With enough soldiers and capable generals, even if the opponent was a great master, you could drown him in a sea of people, saving your own life and killing the enemy.

Nanwang City was ahead, but a long queue had formed at the entrance. He didn't know what the problem was up ahead, but the line was jammed up.

Seeing that the line wasn't moving, Zheng Fan wasn't in a hurry. He turned to look at A Ming beside him and asked:

"Want to get something to eat?"

A Ming shook his head. He had plenty of reserves now and naturally disdained ordinary people's food.

Seeing that A Ming wasn't coming, Zheng Fan dismounted and walked toward the roadside stalls. Xiao Yibo immediately dismounted as well, following him to serve.

Zheng Fan chose a wonton stall run by a young couple.

Business wasn't great.

Small wontons were a popular dish in the Jiangnan region of Qian. Small wontons in a delicious soup were like mandarin ducks playing in the water, carrying a unique and refreshing flavor.

But the people of Yan preferred big, thick dumplings and didn't like such delicate food.

First, Yan was located in the north, and Silver Wave County was already the southern frontier of Yan. But the Three Towns of Qian, which corresponded to Silver Wave County, were still called a bitter and cold land by the people of Qian.

Therefore, if they didn't expand their territory, the people of Yan wouldn't have the opportunity to truly appreciate the so-called Jiangnan scenery.

Furthermore, for hundreds of years, the sons of Yan had either fought with the barbarians in the desert or torn at Jin and Qian. What they usually sought was simply a full stomach, not the mood to savor things in small bites.

But Zheng Fan, because of his past life, was quite fond of these small wontons. Of course, large wontons were also fine, but they had to be mustard greens.

"Two bowls of small wontons," Xiao Yibo took the initiative to order, paying in advance at the same time.

Small businesses couldn't afford to wait until after the meal to get paid; otherwise, you'd throw down the bowl and run away. Where would they catch you?

Once the copper coins landed in the bowl, the wontons would be put in the pot.

Before long, two bowls of small wontons were cooked, but the line to enter the city hadn't moved at all.

The traffic jam was really bad.

Xiao Yibo carefully handed the bowl and small spoon to Zheng Fan, but didn't presume to blow on it to cool it. Instead, he said:

"Master, be careful, it's hot."

Zheng Fan smiled and reached out to take it.

This small stall didn't provide tables and chairs, but those with real status wouldn't eat this kind of roadside snack anyway. Nanwang City, as the former "Little Jiangnan" of Yan, certainly had many high-end restaurants inside, so they were saving their stomachs to eat and drink inside.

Zheng Fan and Xiao Yibo squatted beside the stall. Most of the diners by the roadside ate this way. Some who were less particular simply sat on the ground and ate even more comfortably.

Perhaps because there was no MSG like in later generations, the small wontons weren't flavorful enough, but they were still smooth and enjoyable.

Zheng Fan ate mouthful after mouthful, and Xiao Yibo also ate beside him with "hmms" and "hs." For Xiao Yibo, what he ate wasn't important; accompanying his leader for a meal was the most important thing.

Just as he had eaten half a bowl of wontons, a second wave of customers came to the stall.

An old man wearing a rough cloth robe, sniffling from the cold, and a swordsman in a cotton coat, wrapped tightly, carrying a sword.

The swordsman was in his forties, his face full of acne. It wasn't clear if it was from the cold or if he had always been like that.

The old man held a long flag in his left hand. A corner of the flag was stirred by the cold wind, revealing the character "gua" (divination).

"Ten copper coins a bowl, you two."

The woman waited to collect the money,

The man waited to put the wontons in the pot.

If the woman didn't receive the money, the man wouldn't put the wontons in the pot.

The old man looked at the down-and-out swordsman beside him. The swordsman looked up, as if suddenly discovering that the sky today was so beautiful and moving.

The old man rubbed his hands and said a little awkwardly:

"Um, can I pay with a divination?"

The woman immediately shook her head. The man put the wontons he was holding back down and said:

"Business is bad, I really can't afford to."

He had already said it very honestly. If business was good, it wouldn't matter to treat you to a bowl of wontons and listen to your divination as a pastime.

But right now, business was bleak; he didn't have the leisure or the wealth.

The old man licked his lips, clearly craving a bowl of small wontons.

The older people get, the more they become like old children, craving food.

But he still cared about his old face and wasn't embarrassed to roll around on the ground like a spoiled child.

The down-and-out swordsman patted his bag and said:

"I still have dry rations."

The old man wouldn't have been so upset if he hadn't heard about the dry rations, but as soon as he heard about them, his mouth twitched, and tears welled up in his eyes, feeling extremely aggrieved.

"Dry rations, dry rations, you make your dad eat those cold, hard things every day. Is that how a son should treat his father?"

Hearing this, Zheng Fan looked at Xiao Yibo.

Xiao Yibo showed a simple and honest smile.

The down-and-out swordsman was somewhat lost in thought.

The old man was still feeling aggrieved.

The wonton-selling couple just stood and watched; business was bad anyway, so there was no rush.

Xiao Yibo, holding his bowl and chopsticks in his left hand, reached into his pocket with his right hand, took out a small piece of silver, and tossed it toward the stall, saying:

"Cook for them."

"Oh, great!"

The wontons went into the pot and began to roll in the broth.

The down-and-out swordsman looked at Zheng Fan and his companion squatting there, then shifted his gaze away.

The old man stared eagerly at when the wontons would be ready, not rushing to thank Xiao, the great philanthropist, for treating him to wontons.

"Okay, okay, they're ready, or they'll get overcooked."

The old man urged.

The husband nodded, took the wontons out of the pot, and sprinkled on some not-so-abundant seasonings. The old man took the bowl, hesitated for a moment, then squatted next to Xiao Yibo.

The down-and-out swordsman also took his bowl but squatted on the other side of the stall, seemingly too aloof and not liking to join in the fun.

The old man ate several wontons in a row and drank several mouthfuls of soup, letting out a long sigh, his face showing satisfaction.

Zheng Fan focused on eating the wontons in his bowl, ignoring his surroundings. Perhaps because he had seen too many works in his previous life, he often had the impression of "reclusive masters" with this kind of combination.

The more slovenly and down-and-out they were, the more likely they were to be "experts."

This had been confirmed by Sha Tuo Qieshi.

But after looking at the small wontons in the other party's hands, Zheng Fan didn't plan to probe anything at this time.

Whether you're truly down-and-out or a true reclusive master, you eat your bowl, and I'll eat mine. After we're done, we'll dust ourselves off and go our separate ways.

The old man looked at Xiao Yibo and said:

"Do you want a divination?"

Xiao Yibo shook his head and said, "No need."

"Alas, indeed there's no need. You, ah, have a prosperous fate, but not for your family."

The implication was that you bring bad luck to your family.

Xiao Yibo's hand holding the bowl of wontons trembled slightly, but he didn't say anything.

After all, he had once been in charge of the Cart Gang. Although it was a small gang that couldn't be taken seriously by the big shots, he had dealt with all sorts of people. These people who made a living with their mouths were best at speaking human language to humans and ghost language to ghosts.

If you ignore him, he won't be able to say anything.

But the old man didn't seem to want to give up. Instead, he leaned forward, looked at Zheng Fan, and said with a flattering expression:

"This is a noble person, unfathomably noble."

Zheng Fan smiled, blowing on the soup while drinking it.

Without Zheng Fan's permission, Xiao Yibo naturally wouldn't bring the conversation to Zheng Fan, so he continued to eat his wontons.

The old man ate another half a bowl quietly, wiped his mouth, and then opened his mouth again:

"There's too much blood on this noble person's body. This is a good thing, but also a bad thing."

He had just killed someone the night before. Even if he had taken a bath, could the blood on his body be so easily dispelled?

But Zheng Fan remained unmoved.

It was a pity that Blind was still unconscious. If Blind had been brought out today, he would definitely have come down to eat wontons with him, and secondly, he could have faced off against this old man.

Anyway, they were in the same profession and weren't afraid of having nothing to talk about.

"Noble person, your future path will be smooth, but you must adhere to your original heart. When the water in the pool is muddy, make yourself a clear fish; then you can stand on your own in this world."

Was this considered a lucky saying?

A versatile phrase.

Zheng Fan put down the bowl in his hand, cupped his hands to the old man, and said:

"I am grateful for your guidance."

"Does the noble person have anything you'd like me to divine for you?"

"Didn't you already divine it just now?" Zheng Fan asked.

"That doesn't count."

Zheng Fan nodded but said, "There's nothing I want to divine."

Seeking wealth? He didn't seek wealth.

Seeking talent? He had seven at home.

Seeking an official career? He was currently doing it, and the boxes in the convoy ahead were filled with stepping stones on his career path.

Seeking marriage? With Si Niang around, Zheng Fan was quite content.

This wasn't a lie. The reason Zheng Fan didn't touch the delicate young women at home was that, firstly, those buds didn't suit his taste.

Secondly, with Si Niang's help, he was really enjoying himself in that area.

It wasn't because of Si Niang's image in the comics, fearing what would happen if he stole a taste. It was just that, having lived a second life, he no longer had any obsession with love and affection.

Perhaps he might be moved by some princesses or noble ladies in the future, but that would only be because their noble status could satisfy his male sense of conquest.

Zheng Fan found that his mentality seemed to be leaning toward Blind and A Ming. These Demon Kings didn't seem very interested in women.

"There's nothing to divine," Zheng Fan replied.

In this life, he was just thinking about how to have fun. As for what to play and how to play it, he didn't need anyone to teach him. The process of exploration was part of the fun.

The old man was a little wistful.

He seemed to regret that he couldn't make a deal,

And could only say:

"Where are you from, noble person?"

"You're asking this, old man? This is Yan, so naturally I'm a Yan person."

"No, no, no, you're not a Yan person; you're a person from the heavens."

In Zheng Fan's eyes, a gleam of light flashed.

The unknowing Xiao Yibo laughed and scolded:

"You old geezer, just eat your wontons in peace. Do you need to flatter so much?"

Flattery was his job, Xiao Yibo's job.

The old man nodded and said:

"If a basket of flattery can be exchanged for a bowl of wontons, then it's worth it."

Zheng Fan handed the bowl to Xiao Yibo, who took it and brought it to the stall.

No third wave of customers came to the stall, but the couple was making wontons, which were now being taken out of the pot.

The young couple, one bowl each, squatted by the roadside like the customers, feeding each other.

Xiao Yibo put the bowl and small spoon on the stall, feeling a bit envious in his heart as he watched this affectionate scene.

A simple, poor life, but being able to hold hands and rely on each other was also a fortunate thing.

Zheng Fan also noticed the situation, but what he saw was different from Xiao Yibo.

In Zheng Fan's view,

Hmm,

The couple was eating their own wontons, which proved that there was no problem with the wontons and they were safe to eat.

This kind of habitual thinking was probably trained by the various food safety news reports in later generations.

The traffic jam seemed to have eased a bit, and the line began to move slowly forward.

Xiao Yibo went to the line to arrange the vehicles, instructing his men not to rest and to prepare to enter the city.

Zheng Fan was about to get up and return to the convoy when the old man suddenly said:

"Noble person, don't rush. The line has just started moving. In my life, I always believe that for every cause, there is an effect, and I never owe anyone a favor."

"Then what do you want to do?"

"Since the noble person doesn't want a divination, if the noble person wants to know anything, I can chat with you."

Zheng Fan didn't leave; he squatted down again and said:

"I heard that the dignitaries of Qian, Jin, and Chu like to keep hangers-on, and their purpose is nothing more than this, right?"

The old man nodded and said:

"Indeed."

Dignitaries were afraid of loneliness and also afraid of lacking refinement, so they would specially keep hangers-on, responsible for chatting with them.

In fact, it was just boasting, comparing who could boast more elegantly, who could boast more upscale, and who could boast with more style.

"I'm a rough person. You said there's too much blood on my body, so you must have seen what kind of business I'm in, right?"

Zheng Fan had been in the army for so long. No matter how lazy and hands-off he was on weekdays, he had still been through battles, seen blood, and charged through city gates. It was normal for people to see that he was a military man.

If he couldn't even see that, then this old man had lived to such an age in vain.

"You ask, and I'll tell you. Anything I know, I'll answer you without reservation."

"Just because of this bowl of wontons?"

"The wontons aren't worth much, but the sentiment in the wontons is valuable. Everything in the world becomes valuable when it's touched by sentiment.

Just like the Chu Emperor's paintings, the Jin Emperor's swords, the Yan Emperor's blades, and the Qian Emperor's brush, these are priceless.

These wontons contain my homesickness, so the price is naturally high."

"Reasonable. Then let me ask, how many troops has Qian sent this time?"

Zheng Fan really dared to ask.

The old man actually dared to answer:

"The Western Army has 150,000 men, and they should have arrived under Mianzhou City yesterday. The 100,000 Imperial Guards are traveling by water, but because they were delayed when they set off, they've fallen behind the Western Army. But I estimate they should arrive today.

The Wolf Earth soldiers are naturally following behind the Western Army, controlled and monitored by the Western Army.

The 50,000 Zu Family Army will come from the coast of the East Sea, which will probably take some time, but the auxiliary troops of the neighboring Three Border Counties, no less than 100,000, have already set out early."

"So, how many troops will Qian gather on the Three Borders?"

"150,000 from the Western Army, 50,000 Wolf Earth soldiers, but these 50,000 must be considered incomplete, 200,000 Border Guards, 50,000 Zu Family Army, 100,000 Auxiliary Troops from neighboring counties, 100,000 Imperial Guards, that's a full 650,000 troops!"

650,000 troops stationed on the Three Borders of Qian could be said to be quite luxurious.

Zheng Fan asked again:

"Then do you know how many troops Great Yan can send south?"

"Tsk, tsk, noble person, you're not a Yan person."

"But I certainly can't be a Qian person."

"Perhaps you haven't seen the prosperity of the Upper Capital or the scenery of Jiangnan."

"Believe me, I've seen it, and I can feel it, but I... don't like it very much."

Not only Zheng Fan but also the Demon Kings under his command had thought about this question: if they hadn't started in Tiger Head City in Yan but in Qian, would things be better?

The conclusion they came to was that it was more comfortable, freer, and more enjoyable in Yan.

Putting those things aside,

Zheng Fan now had a relationship with Jingnan Marquis Tian Wujing based on burying the dead,

And with Li Liangting, there was a relationship based on a leg of lamb,

And with Yan Emperor Ji Runhao, there was a relationship based on breaking off descendants,

Even that Eunuch Wei was thinking of having him enter the palace to take over his position.

No matter how he looked at it, Zheng Fan should be closer to Yan.

"Hmm, is that so?" The old man's eyes showed some disappointment.

"You still haven't answered me."

"Doesn't the noble person know how many troops Great Yan can send south?"

"Sometimes, outsiders can see things more clearly than those involved."

"What you say makes sense, so I'll calculate it for you. Along the Silver Wave County line, there are a dozen or so generals piled up, and all kinds of troops add up to about 40,000 to 50,000, but they're of mixed quality.

There are 50,000 in the Jingnan Army and another 50,000 in the Rear Camp, so let's call it 100,000. The Imperial Guards of Yanjing have to be responsible for guarding the territory and also guarding against threats from Jin.

In the desert, they have to leave at least 100,000 Iron Cavalry of the Northern Garrison Army to watch out.

After calculating, Great Yan can only send 200,000 Northern Garrison Army troops, plus 100,000 Jingnan Army troops and tens of thousands of miscellaneous troops south, totaling more than 300,000."

"After calculating, it's about equal."

"Qian has more people, but the Yan army is stronger, especially those 200,000 Iron Cavalry of the Northern Garrison Army, like a knife sharpened in the desert for a hundred years, only today to be unsheathed south.

It's just..."

"Just what?"

"Although Great Yan is fierce, Great Qian has vast land and abundant resources. Don't look at how many troops there are on the Three Borders now, but if the war really breaks out completely, even if the Yan Iron Cavalry is brave, can they break through this iron wall and city walls?"

Zheng Fan didn't speak.

Attacking cities and field battles were two different concepts.

Especially when the opponent had sufficient troops to defend. Zheng Fan had attacked Mianzhou City twice, but he had never thought of attacking the city in a proper manner because he couldn't afford the losses.

"How many civilians will Yan have to mobilize when they send troops south? Have you ever calculated this cost?"

Zheng Fan continued to be silent.

"Most importantly, with an edict from the Qian Emperor, the army of the world, the righteous men of the world, can quickly form an army. Not to mention support, it wouldn't be difficult to gather another 700,000 to 800,000 troops to go north."

You had to know that Qian had been supporting 800,000 troops on the Three Borders and 800,000 Imperial Guards all these years. Although there was serious embezzlement in these two armies, it proved that the Qian court could afford to support 1.6 million troops!

It wasn't just talk that Qian was big and rich.

"Newly formed troops are useless," Zheng Fan said.

"Fight, see blood, and the new will become an army with the old.

Most importantly, it's certain that Great Yan won't be able to break through Great Qian's Three Border defenses in a short period of time, and Great Qian can take this opportunity to slowly wear down its own impetuosity and reorganize its military.

And Yan Emperor, seemingly crushing the aristocratic families and sweeping away evil, is ultimately putting himself in an extremely dangerous position.

Throughout history, every dynasty has relied on something. The barbarians relied on the Right and Left Wise Kings of the royal court, Chu relied on the nobles, Jin relied on the clans, and Great Qian ruled the world with scholar-officials.

The foundation of a country is like a pile of earth, layer upon layer, with the imperial family at the top. Everything has two sides. The so-called worms of the country can also be called the cornerstones of the country.

The people of Yan can't afford to lose, and they can't support it, and that's not counting Jin, Chu, and the barbarians making a move."

To explain the old man's words using modern people's thinking, it's probably that after a regime rises, to secure its rule, it always has to pull a class together to share the benefits. Although the vested interests are the worms of the country, sucking the blood of the country, they have the instinct to maintain your rule.

Just like when Yan Emperor and the Marquis of the North were acting, the aristocratic families of Yan only wanted to grant the two marquises the title of king, but they never thought of pulling the Ji family down from the dragon throne.

If the Northern Garrison Army really intended to replace them, the aristocratic families would still stand on the emperor's side, but Yan Emperor directly swept them away. While this was beneficial to the country, it made the ruler's rule feel insecure.

If Li Liangting died one day, or Ji Runhao died, or the Marquis of Jingnan died, problems would naturally arise. Or if the Northern Garrison Army itself was a military group with its own system, what if other voices emerged among them?

Without the mediation and obstruction of the aristocratic families, any disturbance could directly threaten the Ji family's rule.

"Heh heh."

"You don't believe it?"

"Our asses aren't sitting on one side."

"What you say is truly wonderful."

"Haha, then I'm very curious, you should be a Qian person, why did you come north at this time?"

"Alas, who asked me to be a Qian person?"

"Then what do you have to teach me?"

"The great road faces the sky, each goes their own way. Your path is naturally smooth. You already have a plan in your heart. Those who don't seek divination have their own path under their feet."

"I am grateful for your guidance."

"It's all just empty talk, nothing of substance."

"My convoy is leaving, goodbye."

"Goodbye, noble person."

Zheng Fan got up. This time, he really left. He caught up with the convoy ahead and got on his horse.

A Ming turned his head, holding a waterskin in his hand, the corner of his mouth with a bit of red, like he'd put on rouge,

And asked:

"Something wrong?"

Zheng Fan didn't speak, just thinking that after entering the city, he should report to the Secret Intelligence Division that a Qian spy had entered.

As for whether it would be useful, it probably wouldn't be.

When Zheng Fan looked back again, sure enough, the fortunetelling old man and the down-and-out swordsman had disappeared.

"A Ming."

"Do you think there's anyone in this world who can see through our identities?"

"Master means, can they tell that we don't belong to this world?"

Zheng Fan nodded.

"So what if they can?"

"So free and easy?"

"Because thinking too much is useless."

"That's right, thinking too much is useless. But we still have to get rich early. If I had 300,000 Iron Cavalry in my hands, even if I was from Mars, I guess no one would dare to say anything, right?"

"Yes, Master is wise."

Zheng Fan reached out,

And naturally helped A Ming wipe away that drop of red "rouge" from the corner of his mouth,

A Ming was stunned, frowning slightly.

Zheng Fan looked at the red on his fingertip,

Wiped it on the hair of the warhorse under him,

And said:

"You should drink sparingly; don't drink it all in one gulp, or you'll be hungry again."

"There are several barrels stored in the ice cellar under the fort."

"You can do that?"

"Of course."

"Actually, what I just did was a little disgusting."

"Master, you know that too?"

"But seeing how calm you are, I just wanted to deliberately disgust you."

"Master... is wise."

…………

"I thought you would kill him," the down-and-out swordsman said in the crowd.

The old man shook his head and said, "I really wanted to kill him."

"Because the boxes in that convoy were carrying heads?"

The old man shook his head and said:

"Because I can't see through him. That child's luck is hard to fathom."

"Then why not kill him? He's a Yan person."

"Can't kill him, can't kill him. This child hasn't matured yet. Even if he matures in the future, it's hard to say whether it will be good or bad. In the past, I would have thought of laying out a few pieces as a pastime, but not now.

My breath hasn't reached the point where it should be released. If this energy is released, it will travel thousands of miles. I feel it would be a loss to open a hole in this child."

"According to your Qi Refiners, a chaotic world will inevitably produce freaks. Does he count?"

"Yes."

"This freak is in Yan."

"Are you sure it's a blessing for Yan?"

"I can feel that you're being a little self-deceptive."

"Forget it, forget it. One generation manages the affairs of one generation. You and I are Qian people and have to bear responsibility for this flesh and blood identity. As for what happens after that, let it be.

You're right, a chaotic world is about to begin, and freaks will emerge frequently, but it remains to be seen how many can transform into dragons."

"It's a pity, my sword is like your Qi."

"Yes, my Qi is too thick and can't be easily released, and your sword is too sharp and will shatter after stabbing one person."

"Not moving?"

"Wait a little longer. The wontons just now were really delicious. It was the taste of home."

"Another bowl? The silver the errand boy next to that kid gave can still buy two more bowls."

"One bowl is enough, just to relive the taste. Besides, even if we wanted to, we can't eat it now."

The old man and the down-and-out swordsman looked at the wonton stall.

Suddenly, more than a dozen people emerged from the crowd. One of them was dressed in black, and the rest were dressed as ordinary peddlers and hawkers, directly surrounding the wonton stall.

To prevent causing a crowd disturbance,

The man in black shouted:

"The Secret Intelligence Division of Great Yan is arresting Qian spies! Unrelated people, step aside!"

The wonton-selling couple was still squatting there, still holding wontons in their hands. Facing the Secret Intelligence Division, they showed no fear, only a kind of calmness.

The old man sighed and said:

"I said, today's wontons have the taste of home."

The down-and-out swordsman was silent.

The old man added:

"Everyone has their own path. Because of an identity, everyone has their own destiny. Tell me, from the time I found you until now, have you ever regretted it?"

"There's nothing to regret. It's all our fate."

"Yes, it's all our fate. I don't like the Zhao family."

"I don't like them either."

"But I'm a Qian person. It doesn't make sense that they're willing to give their lives for Great Qian, but the two of us can continue to be carefree and unrestrained. It doesn't make sense, it really doesn't make sense."

"It doesn't make sense."

The Secret Intelligence Division hadn't stepped forward to arrest them yet,

When the couple looked at each other and smiled, black blood flowed from their eyes, ears, nose, and mouth. Their bodies had no life left.

Obviously, they had poisoned the wontons they had given themselves.

They might have been Silver Armor Guards lurking in Yan for a long time, but recently they might have discovered that something was wrong with their superiors and subordinates, leading them to be prepared for their fate.

Blood had already dripped into the bowl of wontons, rippling out, and the clear wonton soup spread with blood.

The old man in the distance,

Took a deep breath,

And blew it out,

It had that flavor.