"A Centurion General commands a hundred men. Even with an edict or a handwritten order from the Prefecture Lord, who gave him permission to just take his men and go?"
"Even if it's a matter of exercising discretion in an emergency, don't tell me the Prefecture Lord's order carries more weight than mine."
"Even if it was for his own father, it wouldn't be allowed."
As Zhang Qing watched Luo Daocheng stand with his hands on his hips, gazing contemptuously at the setting sun, an imposing aura washed over him. Zhang Qing's heart tightened.
"Yes, sir!"
Then, he heard Luo Daocheng ask a question, his tone somewhere between serious and nonchalant:
"By the way."
"That old woman with the young lady—what did she ask you when she invited you over yesterday?"
Zhang Qing was a bit dazed.
"I... I don't know."
"I passed out as soon as I entered the room. I don't know anything that happened after that..."
