Helian Zheng ignored Hongji Le, lifting his liquor and calmly sitting back in his chair.
"Uncle Hotega." Helian Zheng said warmly, once again changing his tone.
"Uncle Hotega," Helian Zheng repeated unhurriedly, quietly refilling the man's cup. "Thirty years ago at the Winter Battle of Green Sea, Da Yue advanced into the steppe up to Quenga River. Da Yue attacked during the night and countless lives were lost on those banks. My father was just a private at the time, and when he could not walk on his broken leg, you carried him thirty miles to safety. Father King always remembered this great kindness and remains grateful even in his grave."
Helian Zheng calmly lifted the filled cup and offered it. Hotega looked down at the cup with complicated eyes, not moving to accept it, but Helian Zheng remained unperturbed, not pulling his steady hand away.
Silence fell over the tent.
