The night was like water, with stars adorning the sky, calm and serene like pebbles.
Feng Zhiyong's residence.
The leader of the pro-war faction held an envelope, pacing around the room as if facing a formidable enemy, his expression a mix of hesitation, struggle, and surprise, his face flushed. It was clear that his heart was extremely uneasy at this moment.
"Colonel, you've always maintained your composure, exuding the aura of a tiger. Why are you so flustered now?" Seeing Feng Zhiyong pacing, Han Qiang, wearing gold-rimmed glasses, spoke.
Han Qiang, an advisor under Feng Zhiyong, though his strength was merely at the ordinary Bronze Tier, held authority only slightly below one person and above ten thousand, controlling the fate of tens of thousands in the pro-war faction.
At this time, only four people were seated in the room, but any one of them held significant influence in Qiaodong.
Feng Zhiyong, Han Qiang, Zhou Xian, Tian Xuefeng;
