Peace Order

Chapter 1758 - 70: Toasts, Chess, Thirty Matches in Thirty Years

Ye Zhongdao put down the letter, picked up the wine flask, calmly removed the wax seal. The wine was of a pure, flawless color, looking extremely enticing. Ye Buyi calmly poured himself a cup.

Zhou Xianping gave a carefree laugh: "A real man, able to campaign in all directions, to march on the plains, and in the end, die for his country— isn’t that also a fine way to go?"

"Though as a subject one speaks of loyalty and duty."

"Yet in this world there is still a vast, upright righteousness— to give one’s life for justice... and this is such a moment."

Zhou Xianping put down the secret letter left by the Emperor and poured himself a cup of wine. He sniffed it; this was precisely the fine wine once prepared for the Turkic Great Khan. Looking at Ye Zhongdao, commander of the Night Rider Cavalry opposite him, the two men raised their cups.

They had yet to drink, but it was as if they were already drunk.

"Come, Ye Zhongdao, the world is in chaos, it’s been too long since we drank together."

Zhou Xianping raised his cup, a faint smile on his face:

"To the Night Rider Cavalry— three thousand armored riders, galloping through the chaos to shatter the Tiger Barbarian Cavalry."

Ye Zhongdao sat ramrod straight, clinked cups with Zhou Xianping, and said in a low, steady voice:

"To the Hooked Scythe Spear troops— discipline as unshakable as a mountain, spearpoints sweeping away the Turkic Iron Cavalry."

"To the founder of our Great Chen— comrades in a chaotic age, tearing the realm asunder."

"To the Divine General of our Great Chen, Chen Tianqi— wherever his long spear points, he drives deep into the enemy ranks."

"To the Taiping Duke!"

"To the Divine Martial King!"

"To Lu Youxian!"

The two drank deep, their cups clinking. At last they burst into loud laughter, drained the two flasks of poisoned wine, and lay back. In the end, the remaining drops in their cups fell to the ground. The two Divine Generals collapsed there, never again to jest and chat.

...

Hurried footsteps sounded. Ye Buyi all but stormed, half-mad, into the place where his father was. Zhou Liuying followed right on his heels. When the two of them learned that Chen Dingye had created an opening for others to withdraw, they also realized that their own fathers had been left behind.

Their hearts both gave a heavy thud.

Bad!

Ye Buyi and Zhou Liuying’s faces both turned ugly.

They had only had time to report to the front, and then immediately sprinted back at full speed.

Thoughts surged through their hearts, one after another flashing through their minds.

Whether their fathers had been made sacrificial pawns, hidden pieces, or something else entirely, all of it made their hearts curl up tight. No one knows a son like a father; yet as sons grow up, they also gradually learn their fathers’ stubbornness and silence.

They knew all too well what those old men would do!

Ye Buyi and Zhou Liuying chose Li Guanyi and the others because these young people themselves carried blazing dreams— and these old men too had once carried such blazing dreams in their youth.

Only now, that once-beautiful, blazing thing had rotted.

The ideal they had pursued had not been like this from the very beginning.

When that white moonlight, that beautiful dream begins to rot, can one still cast it aside?

To discard that youthful, high-spirited swagger, that fierce martial vigor of their prime; to abandon the comrades and brothers who had died along the way before the dream had yet decayed— sometimes, even when a man knows the road he walks is wrong, he has no room left to turn back.

Cannot, will not, dare not, cannot bear to.

Zhou Liuying was practically carrying Shi Dalin over his shoulder.

Nearly ten years had passed; this former Qilin Army Seven Old Ghosts had already become a little old man with graying hair, a small medicine chest in a sling bag on his back. That medicine chest had been made for him by none other than the all-capable Lei Laomeng, who personally split the wood.

A fine thing— insect-proof, fire-resistant, hardly harmed by blades or weapons.

Gripped by its strap and swung in a circle, it worked like a heavy hammer, able to smash armor.

Flick the hidden catch on the side, and it could transform into a Gongsun Crossbow, loosing twelve bolts in a burst.

Despite having such a treasure in hand, Shi Dalin was still being hauled along by this young war general as if he were a log, carried in a headlong sprint. The wind roared past his face with a loud whooshing, whipping his white hair wildly about. His vision spun; all he could see was everything around him streaking by at high speed.

Both hands clutched the strap in a death grip, yet he could still shout to comfort the two outstanding young generals of the new generation, saying: "Ah ya, Ye lad, Zhou lad, don’t worry, don’t worry, those two Generals are upright men!"

"Even if that old venomous bug Chen Dingye gave them poisoned wine or slipped them some poison, there’s no need to fret, *cough, cough, cough*..."

"Look, there’s still this!"

"There’s this!"

Shi Dalin gave the medicine chest on his back a hard slap and, as if he trusted it more than himself, said with absolute confidence: "This is a fully restored, secret little medicine chest of my late master, Mr. Hou Zhongyu!"

"You know Hou Zhongyu, my late master? The man who refined the Elixir of Immortality!"

"If he could refine the Elixir of Immortality—"

"Then these little pills for healing and Detoxification are nothing but child’s play!"

Zhou Liuying was anxious, yet he could still chatter on: "All right, all right, I know you’re impressive, old sir, truly impressive!"

"In a moment we’ll be counting on you, old master."

"You’d best put Hou Zhongyu’s medical arts and Mystical Skills to good use— you mustn’t bring shame to his name!"

His tongue was still nimble; perhaps he was using this stream of chatter to comfort himself, to calm his own heart and cover up the fear and worry within.

They rushed up to the quarters of Generals Zhou and Ye. They had clearly arrived, yet instead of going in at once, they both froze for a moment. Even Zhou Liuying was struck speechless; only Ye Buyi, after a brief silence, kicked open the tent flap and went in.

The sight that met their eyes left them all stunned.

The box was open, the letter lying there. On the table sat two flasks of strong liquor. Zhou Xianping and Ye Zhongdao were both sprawled over it. They were dead drunk, reeking of wine, but in no real danger of losing their lives.

Shi Dalin darted forward, reached out and pawed at them, then curled his lip and said: