He no longer knew how many times he had stood on this city wall, but once he stood here full of ambition, today only desolation remained.
He did not fear death; for every general, the best fate was to die on the battlefield.
But he feared defeat, because if they lost, it wouldn't just be him who died, but many, many people.
Today, many people were destined to die. Once, he could remain indifferent because he had the belief in certain victory. For victory, many deaths were worth it.
But today, defeat was inevitable, and to know this yet still have so many people die—was this not a very tragic thing?
Enough blood had been shed; why shed more?
So now a choice laid before him—surrender!
He didn't actually need to speak!
