Hooves clattered amid the silence, but it was Yuan Zhaoxu, galloping toward them with his robes fluttering loudly. Despite his urgent stance, he looked as cheerful as usual.
"Open the door," he ordered in a clear voice that wasn't loud.
"You've gone mad!" Yan Jingchen jerked his head around, yelling. "We'll die!"
Yuan Zhaoxu looked up with a shallow smile while twirling the rein between his fingers. He wasn't interested in having a conversation with Yan Jingchen.
Zhan Beiye, on the hand, laughed. "You'll be a fool if you don't open it. Who's going to get thrashed in a fight between 80,000 overpowering imperial soldiers and 50,000 gearless city guards? Open the door, and you can join forces with the gunmen, bringing the battle into the palace. There's lesser space for the guards to utilize their weapons, and they aren't as familiar with the layout as your people. Won't the outcome be less definite that way?"
