Chen Jing fantasized that he was the leader of a thousand troops, that he led his army out of the encirclement, and that he repeatedly fell into desperate situations and brought those people out.

He basked in everyone's praise and enjoyed the vicious insults from his enemies.

But gradually, Chen Jingpin began to taste something.

A true hero is not portrayed that way; that's just his most glorious moment, not his true self.

How do you organize and inspire your subordinates in such a desperate situation?

How can one gain the trust of both the people and the ruler?

How can you command an army when you're completely in the dark?

Are they willing to take military risks? And where does their confidence in taking such risks come from?

Do you feel lost about the future? Do you feel confused about what you are fighting for?

Was it me, my army, or the indomitable Song people who created the miracle?

Sometimes Chen Jing pondered the problem on his own, and sometimes he would share the problem with Bai Yueyi, asking her to extract historical information and tell Chen Jing the answer.

Gradually, the illusion created by Chen Jing became more and more restrained, profound, and steady, while also concealing a domineering confidence.

With repeated adjustments to the phantom, it gradually exceeded a certain critical point, and the surroundings suddenly changed. It seemed to come alive, with shadows reflected on the wall.

He opened his dark eyes, his pupils clear and resolute.

But the figure seemed unable to gain enough power and could never take shape.

"Let it dissipate. Before the seal is broken, the power I'm currently radiating is not enough to truly bring him to life." Bai Yueyi's tone, however, lacked joy.

"What's wrong? Your tone is so low. Shouldn't you be very happy?" Chen Jing asked excitedly, "We finally succeeded."