Yan Daiqing, with dark circles under his eyes, was pouring a potently strong tea into his mouth, the resentment emanating from his entire body so intense that even Xiao Zhi had to keep a distance of three feet, not daring to speak directly to the man.
These days had confirmed a painful truth: dealing with internal politics was a tormenting affair.
The grand designs of the world, the recruitment of soldiers and talents, the provisions for logistics—all required meticulous planning. It was tedious and difficult work, each with its unique hardships compared to that of war generals at the front.
Right now, there was no ongoing war; the armies marched forward with ease; generals trained troops, exhilarating!
Princes recruited allies, thrilling!
Yet Yan Daiqing, as the logistics officer, felt murderous at heart.
His teeth clenched tight with a cracking sound.
"Do you have any idea how dismal the finances are?!"
