"Uncle, in good health, how can you speak such dispiriting words," Zhang Xiu said discontentedly, holding considerable respect for this uncle of his.
"Hahaha." Zhang Ji laughed heartily, though he could not conceal a trace of melancholy in his eyes. He knew his own health was failing, strong outside but frail within. While he lived, the camaraderie of the four generals of Xiliang endured. Under his protection, Zhang Xiu remained unharmed, but if he were to die, who could say whether others might covet his private troops once that familial bond was severed?
This was precisely why Zhang Ji had decided to bring Zhang Xiu this time. The battle was a stage prepared by Zhang Ji for Zhang Xiu, a fight they were certain to win. Zhang Ji hoped his nephew would demonstrate his worth in this clash so that, after his death, so long as he allied with a magnanimous lord, Zhang Xiu might enjoy a lifetime of peace.
