Yingtian Prefecture.
The distant beacon fires have not affected the tranquility of Yingtian Prefecture; it remains in a state of peacefulness.
However, this tranquility is merely a facade.
The undercurrents are continuously brewing beneath the surface.
Beside the Qinhuai River, in a waterside elegant pavilion.
Outside the window, the painted boats are radiant with flowing lights, faint music of silk and bamboo, contrasting the blizzard-stricken Hebei frontline a thousand miles away as if they are worlds apart.
Inside the pavilion, the warm fragrance is overpowering, the brazier burns brightly, and several middle-aged men in ordinary clothes but exuding noble aura sit around, with untouched cold tea before them.
