Northwest, the cold wind was piercing.
Song Lingzhao's nose was somewhat itchy, and his ears turned redder, but he dared not be disrespectful or impolite as he faced the super bigwig of the Northwest Army.
"How old is Huaijin this year, sixteen, right?" Grand Marshal Liu gazed at the dark-skinned yet undeniably handsome young man, his eyes sparkling.
Song Lingzhao stood up, clasped his hands, and replied, "In response to Grand Marshal, this young one was born at the beginning of the first lunar month, so in two or three months, he will be a full sixteen."
"A full sixteen, indeed. We often count the virtual age, meaning you're almost seventeen, and at such an age, a man should already be a father."
Song Lingzhao was a bit confused. Wait, why was the subject so heated?
