Calling a deer a horse

"Dong, dong, dong..."

On the military camp's training ground, the drumbeats grew increasingly faint until they disappeared.

The son of Duke, known as the Young Master, in his white military attire spoke in a calm tone that reverberated across the training field.

At the same time, a group of junior and mid-ranking military officers echoed in chorus,

"Please, General Zhao, demonstrate your martial arts!"

The air tensed for a moment.

In an instant, within the ranks of thousands, countless soldiers' eyes converged on one point, their gazes filled with an odd excitement.

Zhao Douan faced the scrutiny of numerous eyes with a natural demeanor, the corners of his mouth curving into an almost imperceptible smile.

His eyes fell upon Tang Ping, who was holding an iron bow before him, and with what seemed like genuine surprise, he smiled towards the two beside him,

"Could someone explain what tradition this is?"

Mo Chou's expression was also far from pleasant.