At the end, he looked at the two long spears standing to the left and right of the tent curtain with a look of sympathy on his face. One of the spears was adorned with a rat-patterned mask, and the other with an ox-patterned mask. Both men were tensely stiff, their eyes not straying...
He silently sighed, shook his head, and with the warm water jug in tow, strode away.
An hour later, he hurried back to the military tent, lifted the curtain, and bent down to enter.
But before he could speak, he saw Yang Ge gesture to him with a wave of his hand.
Yang Ge beckoned towards the Cold Moon treasure sword hanging in the tent, and the next second, the sword, which had been quietly lying in its sheath, shot out like lightning, turning into a streak of blade light that Zhou Fu could only see as a blur, piercing through the tent curtain and flying out.
The next second, a muffled grunt could be heard not far away.
