Mi Tianzheng was furious, roaring, "What if someone from above comes? Does my injury not matter?"
The old man, looking troubled, hurriedly tried to dissuade him, "Young Master, your injury is of course the most important. So please, Young Master, quickly heal. If any sequelae are left, it would be troublesome."
After speaking, he looked at the defeated soldiers and reprimanded, "Bastards, how did you protect the Young Master, letting him get so seriously injured? Take them down and punish them."
"Vice General, spare us, Vice General, spare us..."
The defeated soldiers knelt on the ground, begging for mercy.
"You failed to protect the Young Master and still have the face to beg for mercy. Take them down and each of them gets a hundred army sticks," the old man said angrily.
The defeated soldiers trembled in fear. They were already injured, and a hundred army sticks would be enough to kill them.
"Vice General, spare us, Young Master, spare us. We know our mistakes."
