Zhou Shaoting's gaze finally fell back on Zhou Chen. He looked at his most outstanding son, at the suppressed battle Intention in his eyes, and at the sword resting at his waist. Silence. A long silence followed. Then, Zhou Shaoting spoke.
"If you go to battle, how confident are you?"
Zhou Chen did not hesitate. "A hundred percent."
This answer was too absolute, so much so that several ministers in the hall couldn't help but frown.
But Zhou Chen continued, "It is not that I am arrogant, but for this battle, I must believe I can win.
"If I don't even believe in myself, why bother going to battle?"
Zhou Shaoting stared at him for a long time before suddenly smiling. His smile was somewhat complex. It held relief, pride, and a faint trace of worry.
"Good," he said. "Then you shall go to battle."
Zhou Chen bowed. "Thank you, Imperial Father!"
"Don't be so quick to thank me." Zhou Shaoting waved his hand. "I still have conditions.
