Li Feng breathed a sigh of relief, assuming he had successfully persuaded this man — Gu Yun had become wiser with his actions in the past few years, very understanding of the current affairs, not easily blown up with just the slightest touch like before. His neither light nor heavy opposition just now was perhaps only an overreaction from hearing the words 'Lou Lan'...

Lou Lan... Gu Yun had been staying there for more than five years. His feelings must be deep; this was not incomprehensible.

With such a thought, Li Feng's heart became softer. He intended to reach out and help Gu Yun up.

Unexpectedly, his hand was not yet extended, but Gu Yun had already straightened up and said calmly:

"Your Majesty, Lou Lan is small, but they have always remained great friends with our court. That year when countless Western Region countries rebelled, our army was besieged in the golden sand dunes for more than twenty days. The only side who secretly sent information and supplied us with rations and medicine was Lou Lan. Later, many countries, such as the Western foreigners, Western Regions, and Tian Zhu...signing the Silk Road treaty with Great Liang, Lou Lan had also served as an—"

Li Feng's hand hung stiffly in the air, stunned by Gu Yun's words; he then immediately turned furious, loudly shouting: "Enough!"

"Aiming at other countries' natural resources, invading and taking siege, that is inhumane; throwing away old favors, betraying one's promise, that is unjust!" Gu Yun did not seem to have had 'enough' in the slightest — each word like a blade, clashing onto the floor of the pavilion.

Li Feng shook with rage: "Shut up!"

He turned his hand over the table, swept the papers onto the floor, immediately picked up an ink container, and violently threw it — Gu Yun did not hide either, letting the container strongly hit the shoulder of his Light Armor, the sound of the impact echoing. The still wet ink dripped down from the chest of the Marquis of Order's formal attire.

Li Feng: "Gu Yun, what do you want to do?"

Gu Yun slowly forced out each word: "An inhumane and unjust army is no good fortune. Black Iron Camp's 50,000 soldiers, although not afraid of death, we do not dare to accept this command either. Your Majesty, please recall your order."

The brazier outside the West Warm Pavilion would automatically add charcoal after a period of time. The large gears the size of a bowl were interlocked. Whether it was changing charcoal or letting out smoke, all were carried out in an orderly manner. A stream of white smoke emitted from behind, occasionally letting out noises that resembled a sigh.

Inside the pavilion, the ruler and the subject — one kneeling, one standing — clashed in a tense argument. Li Feng's hand clasped the edge of the wooden table carved into the design of a dragon, rows of blue veins popping up, grumbling out each word: "You say it again."