Once the army had finished forming up, Tian Wujing did not rush to give the order to charge. Instead, he glanced at Zheng Fan and asked, "Do you understand why?"
Zheng Fan replied, "There is no need to discuss family matters with outsiders."
Tian Wujing reached out and stroked the Pixiu's mane.
He nodded. "Very well."
It was not a long way, but riding the frenzied horse, Angda felt as if a very long time had passed. The fluttering of the Black Dragon flags still echoed in his ears, as if he had never truly escaped the shadow of those flags.
Until Quemu's shout came, "Angda!"
Angda lifted his head and looked ahead. The gazes of numerous wild people warriors were filled with contempt.
The scene of him kneeling to the Yan people had obviously been witnessed by them; he had been branded a shameless coward.
Quemu, however, approached him, patted Angda on the shoulder, and said, "Angda, you did your best."
