Zhang Wuji looked at Zhao Linger with deep affection again: "My dear sister, are you really okay? Please don't lie to me."

Zhao Linger said: "Young Master, didn't I tell you a long time ago that I am fine. Even if I can't defeat Zhao Min, it won't be that easy for her to hurt me."

"Sister Zhou has just examined me. Don't worry. I guarantee that I will give birth to a son for you in eight months."

Zhou Zhiruo rolled her eyes at Zhao Linger again: "Son? It might be a daughter."

Zhao Linger quickly said: "Good sister, a daughter is not possible. If it is a daughter, I will continue to give birth. If it is a son, one is enough."

Zhou Zhiruo was once again speechless with anger.

It was not until this time that Zhang Wuji found out that Zhao Linger was already two months pregnant.

…

Today, Zhou Zhiruo really didn't want to talk about children and pregnancy anymore.

Even though Zhang Wuji was still immersed in joy, Zhou Zhiruo had to pour a bucket of cold water on him.

Zhou Zhiruo said: "Now the war is imminent. Our casualties today are 20,000 to 30,000 more than Zhao Min's. If we continue to fight like this, even if we can win, it will be a miserable victory. We should think carefully about what to do next."

Zhou Zhiruo's words made Zhang Wuji fall into deep thought again.

"Zhou Zhiruo is right. If we continue fighting like this, even if we can defeat Zhao Min, there is a danger that our entire army will be wiped out."

Zhao Min's fighting style at this moment is equivalent to using the strategy of besieging Wei to save Zhao on herself.

However, the strategy of besieging Wei to save Zhao was a strategy that countless military strategists throughout the ages had been unable to crack, not even Pang Juan, let alone himself.

Zhang Wuji sighed helplessly: "Oh..., what should I do?"