Chapter 172: Han Spirit Unbroken, We Are the Fuel, Honoring It Through the Ages!

Su Ming's words fell silent.

The once hot and fervent private room's atmosphere instantly dropped to zero, freezing like ice.

Outside, cold gray raindrops hammered the glass, tireless.

Tick‑tock, tick‑tock…

At this moment, between heaven and earth, only this sound existed.

"Sima the old thief!!!"

Fa Zheng let out a low roar, a towering blaze of anger igniting in his chest!

Yet in the next instant…

It was snuffed out by his own hand.

Revenge?

Revenge against whom?

Even that damn Jin that stole the Han family's throne has long since turned into a mound of yellow earth.

His hatred, before this fucking river of time…

Not even a fart!

He is merely a powerless rage.

On the other side, Jiang Wan's gentle, scholarly face had completely lost its color.

He can understand the rise and fall of dynasties.

…

"Two‑legged sheep…"

This Grand General, who has devoted his life to stabilizing the nation and caring for the people, could not help but tremble violently as he muttered those three words.

The image in his mind kept refusing to disperse.

During those darkest years known as the Five Barbarians Turmoil.

Countless subjects he once swore to protect were corralled, slaughtered, and cooked like livestock…

That blood‑soaked scene pierced his patriotic heart more than any flash of swords.

"We…"

"What exactly… are we protecting?"

Jiang Wan's voice was hoarse and dry.

Three Top-level Advisors.

Three heroic souls who once stirred the winds of an era.

Faith, at this moment…

Stumbling and stumbling!

They have fought their whole lives for it, bearing a thousand‑year grudge…

Before the harsh facts of history, they are crushed into fragments.

Pang Tong neither cried nor roared.

He just sat there blankly.

Those Phoenix Eyes that could pierce all things lost all their luster for the first time, terrifyingly hollow.

Dead silence!

For a long while.

Pang Tong slowly lifted his head; those unfocused eyes stared fixedly at Su Ming, his lips trembling.

"The dynastic name may change, the realm may be altered…"

"Lord…"

"The people's hearts, and the spirit…"

"…still… exist?"

Swish!

Fa Zheng and Jiang Wan looked up simultaneously, their blood‑red gazes falling on Su Ming like knives.

Su Ming did not answer immediately.

He stood, silently lifted the bottle of modern‑crafted strong liquor.

First he gave Fa Zheng a new cup.

Then he filled each of the three.

"Exist?"

Su Ming raised the cup, finally speaking, his expression indistinct.

"More than just existence!"

"I ask you, what is the Han Spirit?"

Without waiting for their reply, Su Ming continued on his own.

"It is Huo Qubing's sealing of Wolf's Den, the resolute shout 'If the Xiongnu are not destroyed, how can we claim a home?'!"

"It is Chen Tang's ten‑thousand‑mile raid, the arrogance of 'Those who offend our mighty Han, even if far away, shall be punished'!"

"It is you! It is Mr. Wolong!"

"It is the countless ancestors who shed the last drop of blood for this land, the solitary bravery of doing the impossible!"

Su Ming's voice, each sentence more resonant than the last, each more scorching than the previous.

"The dynastic name may change, but this resolve, this arrogance, this solitary bravery—have they changed?!"

"No!"

Su Ming heavily set the wine cup down, spilling the wine.

"Just not long ago, when facing foreign foes, the warriors of this nation would say—"

"Pure love, only for this land!"

"Today's children still proudly thrust out their chests and tell the whole world—"

"Those who offend our Dragon Nation, even if far away, shall be exterminated!"

"Frontier warriors still will defend every inch of the ground beneath their feet with their lives, telling all enemies—"

"The place where I stand is the Dragon Nation!"

"In this life I have no regrets entering the Dragon Nation; in the next life I will still be in the Flower‑planting family!"

This…

The few sentences, like rolling thunder, struck hard into the depths of the three conspirators' souls, causing their Dao hearts to tremble.

The grief, bewilderment and ash on their faces gradually faded…

"The place where I stand is the Dragon Nation?!"

This…

"How similar this is to their steadfast defense of every inch for the Han family back then!"

Su Ming also fell silent for a moment, a little dazed.

He thought of Chen Beixuan, and of those agents whose equipment he had stripped.

He couldn't say he had much goodwill toward those guys.

He would not attach himself to any so‑called faction.

Not even to the Official.

Yet the land beneath his feet is his own home.

He was born here, grew up here.

That's a whole different matter!

He can disregard spirits and gods, and can not fear the powerful.

But he will never forget where his roots lie!

Su Ming raised his cup again.

This time, his expression was exceedingly solemn.

"Though the state name may change, the bloodline continues!"

"Attire may change, but spirit and integrity endure!"

"What you fight for has never been just a single 'Han' character, nor a Liu family's realm!"

"It is the ever‑living people on this land!"

"It is the unyielding souls within the long river of civilization!"

Su Ming's voice suddenly rose, his eyes blazing as he stared at the three.

"Three gentlemen…"

Su Ming lifted his wine cup.

"Would you be willing to follow me, and once more ignite the Firewood for these millennia?!"

Firewood…

The two words made the three conspirators shudder all over again.

"Firewood passes down!"

The flames in their eyes reignited, brighter than ever before.

"Han is dead."

"But the Han Spirit is not extinguished!"

The three stared at each other, seeing relief and determination in each other's eyes.

The next moment.

Pang Tong, Fa Zheng, Jiang Wan, the three heroic souls of Shu Han, rose simultaneously.

Facing Su Ming, they bowed deeply once more.

This bow was no longer the ritual of subject bowing to ruler.

It was a meeting of kindred spirits, entrusting a lifelong pact!

"I am willing to serve the lord!"

"For these ten‑thousand generations, to ignite… once more!"

…

4 a. m.

In the elegant room, the scent of wine rose to the heavens.

The atmosphere had long shed its previous heaviness, becoming lively and bold.

Su Ming also drank to a slight tipsiness, leaning against the chair back, feeling completely at ease.

He listened as Fa Zheng, eyes shining, asked him how to use that thing called "oil" to create a treasure far fiercer than the flames of Shangfang Valley.

Hand‑knead Great Yiwan!

He listened to Pang Tong, his face fanatical, holding two chopsticks as counting rods, muttering incantations.

Trying to deduce the trajectory of the "intercontinental missile" he just mentioned!

He listened to Jiang Wan, full of emotion, probing about modern "household registration", "taxation", and "compulsory education".

He smiled.

He laughed boisterously.

It's been a long time since I've been this relaxed!

He knew, from tonight onward.

These three top‑tier old comrades finally became the people whose backs he could truly entrust to.

Unconsciously, fatigue rose.

Su Ming lay on the table and fell into a deep sleep.

The other three weren't any better, tilting and swaying.

Jiang Wan rested his arm as a pillow.

Even while asleep, they kept murmuring.

"Madam, this is your pension…"

Night Color Bar was deep, Gray Rain still fell.

No one could detect it.

Su Ming's Golden Mark in his pupils was, unbelievably, slowly rotating unconsciously.

A strand finer than a hair, almost impossible to be observed, Golden Silk Thread, quietly seeped from his eye corner.

It pierced the window, silently stabbing into the endless gray rain curtain outside.

The other end of the thread…

…connected to the as‑yet‑unknown, void‑dark Sky Vault!