...
Fang Che and the other seven arrived at a quiet rear courtyard of the Guardian Hall.
A few old geezers were already sitting there, with the fragrance of wine and dishes wafting over.
Each and every one of them had a straight, upright figure, voices like great bronze bells, eyes shining with sharp light, their heroic spirit soaring to the sky.
Completely different from the kind of lifeless, withered old men Fang Che had imagined.
The "after we come, we'll hear all sorts of reflections on life, endless sighs, laments, and so on..." he had imagined never showed up at all.
Instead, what they had more of was curiosity about the work of the eight-man Life and Death Patrol Team, all kinds of suggestions, and various ideas on how to carry out the work in the future.
When asked about the past battle records of the few seniors,
what they showed instead were proud smiles.
"Worth it!"
