"You're talking nonsense!"
The short, stout general blushed.
"Concentrate your forces? Didn't you see how our brothers died?"
"With this terrain, it would be pointless to throw another 100,000 lives into it!"
"You're the one who's useless! You don't know anything about strategy!"
The general with the mustache rolled up his sleeves, looking ready to fight.
"you……"
The short, stout general was so angry he couldn't speak.
The finger pointing at the general with the mustache trembled incessantly.
The two began arguing again, neither willing to back down, and the atmosphere inside the tent became even more tense.
"Enough! Shut the hell up, all of you!"
Mu Qing abruptly stopped and shouted sternly.
He glared at the two men, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
"What's all the noise about! What time is it? You still have the mind to fight amongst yourselves!"
The two men trembled at Mu Qing's roar and immediately knelt down, not daring to utter another word.
He snatched the map from the short, stout general's hand and slammed it to the ground.
The map tumbled through the air a few times before falling helplessly to the ground like a kite with a broken string.
"Maps! Maps! All you do is look at maps all day! What's the point?"
He pointed at the map on the ground and roared.
Mu Qing pointed at the short, stout general's nose and cursed:
"You! Continue organizing the siege equipment and prepare for a full-scale assault!"
"I want to see new catapults and siege ladders within three days!"
The short, stout general meekly replied "Yes," then quickly stood up, bowed, and left the tent.
As he walked, he wiped the cold sweat from his forehead, secretly relieved that he had escaped a disaster.
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