Qi Chenghan only then remembered, the man in front of him, although of humble origin, was a Wang Wuzheng, in plain terms, killing him would be as easy as slaughtering a chicken, confronted by Liu Wentian's icy gaze, sweat beaded on his forehead, and he dared not speak further, but his eyes were filled with a thick and unresolved resentment.
The commotion suddenly escalated—
suddenly, outside the door came a rush of footsteps, followed by a group of soldiers equipped with rifles appearing before everyone.
They were well-trained, it seemed someone had briefed them on the situation before they came in. In an instant, about twenty soldiers aimed their rifles at Liu Wentian.
A man in a military uniform, with two bars and three stars on his epaulettes, a middle-aged man, ran to Qi Shihong and saluted respectfully, saying, "Reporting, commander, the enemy is surrounded, should we shoot to kill?"
