"Lord, last time we talked things through very well, why with the Martial Saint of the Southern Frontier exerting pressure, does Dashun not lower but instead raises its guard?"
"Could there be some inside information we are unaware of?"
"Has Dashun truly become so powerful in just seventy years of its founding?"
"Shut up! Don't unsettle yourselves!"
The seven members of the diplomatic mission left the Dashun military tent, trudging through the relentless wind and snow, with snowflakes as large as salt grains sticking to their beards and taking a long time to melt.
Hearing the advisors' noisy, worried whispers, the head of the mission suddenly turned around, glaring, and cursed fiercely.
Silence in the snow.
Only the fierce wind remained.
The envoy glanced around, with frustration at the lack of resolve, and scolded, "It's all just for show, nothing but deliberate busyness!
