Entering the night, Yan Shun came to the camp to seek an audience with Yang Zhenshan.
Seeing Yang Zhenshan again, his emotions were much more stable, although he was still not certain of Yang Zhenshan's identity, the behavior of Yang Zhenshan's soldiers had greatly reassured him.
Everything was so organised and orderly, no one disturbed the military households under his jurisdiction; simply based on this, Yan Shun felt that Yang Zhenshan must be an upright person.
A dim candlelight flickered inside the tent, while Yang Zhenshan sat behind a desk, writing and drawing.
Yan Shun entered, and Yang Zhenshan did not look up, merely saying, "You sit first, wait for me a moment!"
"Yes!"
Yan Shun sat somewhat stiffly on the stool next to him, while Yang Zhenshan wrote for a good while before putting down the pen and taking a sip from the already cool teacup.
"Ah, it seems like the situation here is not very good," he sighed lightly.
