"Yes." Zhanchi Yihui reached out and took the Teigu Shangri-La. His resolute face was as expressionless as an iceberg.

Literary Master Yi Hui didn't care about this either. Zhan Chi Yi Hui struggled in the sea of ​​blood and corpses for so many years, growing from an unknown soldier to a general step by step.

Taking on the responsibility of leading the hundreds of thousands of soldiers of the Northern Border Corps, no matter how frivolous a character is, will be polished into calmness.

"How are you handling things over there? The minister probably doesn't know about you killing Silla yet, right?"

The copyist Yihui knew that unless it was necessary to kill Chi Yihui, he would not do it.

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