"Yang Yan, though you are a formidable adversary with profound strategies, you are ultimately trapped by the crumbling ship of the imperial court, constantly hampered. As for me..."
He gently tapped the vast area of Daizhou and Hedong, a hint of cold arrogance playing on his lips. "There's still room for maneuver in terms of offense and defense. This game has only just begun. We... have a long road ahead."
Outside the window, the sky over Daizhou is high and clear, already carrying the bleak air of early winter.
The war drums in the north grew increasingly urgent, the undercurrents in the west surged, and the calculations and games in the east quietly escalated amidst this tense atmosphere.
A larger and more complex storm is rapidly brewing.
......
Xiangzhou, the headquarters of the General Who Conquers the North.
The central command tent of Ma Zongliang has now been completely transformed.
The original luxurious decorations inside the tent were removed, leaving only the necessary military maps, sand table, and command flags.
The air was filled with the scent of freshly applied tung oil and ink sticks, cold and solemn.
Yang Yan sat upright on the commander's seat, not wearing dazzling bright armor, but only a black iron armor, with a dark cloak draped over his shoulders, and the emperor's sword, symbolizing the power of life and death, hanging at his waist.
His face was thin and refined, but his eyes were like an ancient well, deep and unfathomable, as he slowly swept over the assembled generals under his tent.
Most of these generals were former subordinates of Ma Zongliang.
At this moment, everyone had a complex expression, some showing awe for the new commander, some feeling lost about the future, some instinctively resisting the strict military discipline, and some feeling ashamed and resentful as a defeated general.
"This is Yang Yan, Commander."
He spoke, his voice not loud, yet like the clang of metal, clearly piercing the slightly oppressive air within the tent, "Entrusted by His Majesty in this time of crisis, I have been appointed to oversee the military affairs of Hebei. Today I have summoned you all to speak of only one matter—military discipline!"
He offered no pleasantries or inspiring slogans, cutting straight to the heart of the matter. His cold gaze carried immense pressure, intimidating every general.
He picked up a roll of names, still damp with ink, from the table, and his voice suddenly turned cold, like the north wind in the dead of winter:
"Zhang Kui, Colonel of the Left Battalion of the Vanguard Army!"
As he uttered the name, the tent fell into a deathly silence, so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
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