「Imperial Capital, Military Headquarters.」
Xiao Xuan stood before his desk, wielding his brush and splashing ink.
Ever since Lin Mu defeated Shen Lang and rose to the pinnacle of Huaxia, Xiao Xuan had often indulged in this practice.
After flourishing his brush, he would let out three hearty laughs.
He wrote a line of characters that writhed like dragons and snakes, then carelessly tossed the ink-soaked brush aside.
"Old Kong, what do you think of my calligraphy?"
Beside the desk, Kong Lin was leisurely sipping tea. He had rashly accepted Lin Mu's resignation last time, which subsequently led to his own out of guilt. Now, unburdened by official duties, he had ironically become the most idle man around.
"Golden lances and iron horses, brimming with the spirit of war. It certainly fits a commander's status," Kong Lin commented.
Xiao Xuan replied disdainfully, "Old Kong, I've noticed you've become quite the smooth-talker since you retired."
