Chapter 125 "Hmm..."

Xue San lay on the ground, bringing his nose close to the grass, inhaling deeply with a look of intoxication.

Beside Xue San, A Ming silently reopened his wine flask and drank the last mouthful of blood inside, while asking:

"The scent of nature?"

"No, the smell of sheep dung."

"You have a good appetite."

Xue San shook his head and said, "Do you know what else I can smell?"

"Didn't you just say?"

"Not just that, I can also smell that the sheep here are strong and healthy."

"That's a good skill, admirable."

"It has to be."

"In the future, if the master's son gets sick, you can help taste his… stuff to show your loyalty."

"Why would I want to eat the master's son's… thing?"

"You don't want to eat…." A Ming frowned slightly and said, "Let's end this topic, it's too disgusting, makes me want to regurgitate."

"You're something else, not staying in the city but insisting on coming out here with me? The workshops haven't started yet, production hasn't caught up, you're not sleeping in your ice cellar but running outside, what's the point?"

"Fun," A Ming said.

"Your hands are itching? Oh no, your teeth are itching?"

"Partly for that reason. Before, on the battlefield, I had to stand next to the master and block arrows for him."

"Like a tool."

"Yeah, so I couldn't let go, couldn't have fun. And the master has bad luck, always getting shot by stray arrows on the battlefield."

"I understand. What's the other reason?"

"The other reason is that after my screening and comparison, I found a kind of blood that is still delicious even if the strength isn't high, and that's the blood of ***."

"What blood?"

"The blood of ***."

"No, I'm saying, why are you still censoring yourself when you're talking to me face-to-face?"

"Just a habit." A Ming pointed to the space diagonally above his head and said, "Back when we were in comics, shouldn't there be a dialogue bubble here when we said something?"

"Yeah, so what?"

"Wouldn't some unspeakable words automatically turn into censored text? Like taking the 'di' off 'diu' becomes **."

"So whose blood is it?"

"It means I can't tell you."

"Why?"

"I'm afraid you'll snitch."

"Really that serious?"

"Yeah, I know you're holding a lot of anger in your belly right now, I'm afraid you'll drag me down with you."

"I'm wronged."

"Aren't you."

A Ming smiled and retied his empty wine flask around his waist. In front of him and Xue San was a tribe.

The tribe's territory was large, and there were many livestock, but there didn't seem to be many people.

This was the western part of Deep Pool, originally the territory of the An Yang tribe, but the An Yang tribe had already been annexed by the Naiman tribe. According to Snow Plains tradition, the An Yang tribe's people would be reduced to the lowest level of slaves in the Naiman tribe and moved back to the Naiman tribe. Then the Naiman tribe would send its own people to take over the pastures that originally belonged to the An Yang tribe.

This was a kind of digestion and division, and the most common tribal development rule in the Snow Plains.

But the newly divided sub-tribe was undoubtedly still very weak and needed a period of development and recovery.

"Remember the first time I went on a long trip with the master, it was about the same situation, but back then, the master and I were in the camp; now, we're outside."

Before, they were ambushed; now, they were going to ambush others.

"Did you figure out the situation?" A Ming asked.

"Didn't you come with me?"

"Oh."

"You didn't think I could smell the enemy's troop deployment from sheep dung, did you?"

"Can't you?"

Xue San opened his nostrils wide and looked at A Ming.

"Are you serious?"

"I think you can develop in that direction more."

"Hehe, our skill points are all set, they're just grayed out now. You can't trick me into changing my skill tree."

"Following the same old routine to recover is pretty boring, too. Why not try something new this time?"

"Hiss…"

"What's wrong?"

"I suddenly think you're very enlightened."

"Thank you."

Xue San stood up, shaking his three legs a few times, doing warm-up exercises.

"This tribal village was breached by the Naiman tribe earlier, and it hasn't been repaired yet. It's actually full of holes. See that place ahead?

There are two towers there; let's just call them towers for now. And over there, there's a horse patrol at night. You pick one."

"The horse patrol, I guess."

"Okay, then I'll take care of the towers. Let's set a time in our minds, one hour?"

"Sure."

"Has to be silent."

"Need you to teach me that?"

"Hehehe." Xue San smiled, clapped his hands, and then, nearly a hundred black figures appeared behind them. "Follow up in two hours. Dai Li, notify the troops in the rear to charge the camp on time in three hours."

"Yes, sir."

Dai Li started running back to relay the message, and the others slowly disappeared into the surrounding darkness again.

A Ming said:

"The name Dai Li is really unique. Did you give it to him?"

"His parents gave it to him. I just kept using it, for good luck."

"Where did you see the good luck in it?"

"Anyway, I can't fly in this era."

"True."

"Alright, let's go. I've been holding it in for too long. You don't know, the day before yesterday I castrated a subordinate with sticky fingers and fed him to the dogs. Only smelling that bloody scent could I sleep a little more soundly."

"Disgusting."

"I'm disgusted by the smell of blood, but you, damn it, drink blood!"

"Good-looking people are called flirtatious; ugly people are called perverts."

"You damn personal attack!"

A Ming took half a step back,

bowed,

arms hanging down,

full of etiquette,

and said:

"Farewell, my Third Master."

After speaking,

A Ming straightened up, turned around, and walked away.

Xue San pointed at A Ming's back and said:

"I thought you'd disappear into a bloody shadow after showing off, but it turns out you still have to use your legs."

A Ming waved his hand, ignoring Xue San.

Xue San turned his body to the side, and his whole person disappeared into a shadow, advancing toward the camp in front.

……

Inside a large tent,

the Third Prince of the Naiman tribe was sitting in the tent, enjoying the company of a beautiful woman while reading.

There was nothing special about it.

Because the Third Prince was indeed reading.

The woman serving beside him, wearing a red dress, with a beautiful face and exquisite accessories, was named Wu.

She came from a prominent family in Jin, knowledgeable and reasonable, and her husband was originally a county magistrate in the area.

After the barbarians entered the pass, the county magistrate defended the city and died when the city fell. Wu was captured and became a slave. When she was sold to the Snow Plains, the Third Prince of the Naiman tribe bought her for fifty sheep to be his concubine.

The Third Prince had a tranquil personality. Unlike other barbarians, he loved poetry and books.

In the words of the Naiman tribe chieftain, who was also the Third Prince's father,

even he, the father, didn't expect to raise such a thing.

If it weren't for some of the Third Prince's facial features being very similar to his father, the Naiman King would really have thought that he had been cuckolded by some scholar.

The Third Prince's reading was not just for show. He even composed poetry, and his level was quite good.

When the Barbarian King rose up, he praised him as the Wenqu Star (star of literature) on the Snow Plains, a seed for a prime minister.

This was partly praise and partly an attempt to win him over.

But the Naiman tribe chose to wait and see and did not place a bet.

The Third Prince had tried hard to persuade his father to send troops to help the Barbarian King, but he had not succeeded.

Later, as the Barbarian King was defeated and almost all of the barbarian main force that had entered the pass was wiped out in Jin, the Naiman King even scolded his son, saying that he did not understand the situation.

The Third Prince's brothers and the elders of the tribe praised the Naiman King for his far-sightedness.

Later, as the Naiman tribe annexed the An Yang tribe, the Third Prince was arranged by his father to come and manage the An Yang tribe's pastures.

The An Yang tribe was too close to the Naiman tribe. Princes who were truly valued would be assigned to pastures far away from home, giving them enough space to develop and expand their tribes. The Third Prince was essentially being watched under the Naiman King's eyes, helping him "graze."

"Your Highness, would you like some soup?"

"I'm not hungry. By the way, I told you, don't call me Your Highness. Just call me by my name."

Originally, there was only one Barbarian King on the Snow Plains. His father was the chieftain of the Naiman tribe. Later, a prince of the Yan kingdom came to the Snow Plains and brought an imperial edict, conferring his father with the title of king.

His father became king, and they were all called princes.

His father was very happy about this and held a banquet for three days.

The Third Prince was not happy, because the Yan people had not given anything of value. The Naiman tribe and other Snow Plains tribes had not received a single sheep, a single horse, or a single slave. They just sat by and watched as the Snow Sea Pass was occupied by the Yan people. Later, this even led to the Barbarian King's main force being trapped south of the Snow Sea Pass, unable to return to the Snow Plains and being annihilated by the Yan people.

"Your Highness's status is noble. This concubine dare not overstep."

"Hehe, don't say such things. I'm just a barbarian on the Snow Plains."

The Third Prince put down the book in his hand, shook his head, and then summoned a subordinate serving outside. After the subordinate came in and knelt down, he asked:

"Have the envoys from the Ge Meng and other tribes arrived?"

"Third Prince, they have arrived. They passed by here before nightfall. They should have reached the king's tent by now."

"Mm, I understand. You may leave."

"Yes, Prince."

"Sigh."

The Third Prince sighed.

"Your Highness, the tribal envoys have all arrived. Why are you still sighing?"

"What use is it just for the envoys to come? The Yan Earl of Pingye at Snow Sea Pass has already announced to the Snow Plains that he will attack my Naiman tribe. If my Naiman tribe cannot quickly gather its own warriors and those of allied tribes, how can we resist the Yan cavalry?"

Saying this,

the Third Prince couldn't help but stroke his forehead and said with emotion:

"After receiving this news, my father didn't make up his mind to exchange pastures and cattle for the Ge Meng and other tribes to send troops to help as soon as possible. He actually thought about uniting many tribes to put pressure on the Yan people, hoping to resolve this dispute without bloodshed.

Father, is really…"

The Third Prince didn't say the words that followed. Having admired Chinese culture since he was a child, he still understood the principle that a son should not speak ill of his father.

"Your Highness, will the Yan people really attack so quickly?"

"The Yan people's style of doing things has always been swift and decisive. The Earl of Pingye at Snow Sea Pass, judging by his style, dared to lead a lone army deep into enemy territory and launch a surprise attack on Snow Sea Pass. Furthermore, he is young.

When this person does things, he either doesn't do them, or he does them neatly and decisively. He will never just talk about it.

However, Snow Sea Pass should be short of troops. If my father could gather allied troops early, maybe things could turn around.

If the worst happens…"

The Third Prince looked at Wu, reached out and took her hand, and said:

"You can go home."

"Your Highness, this concubine dare not think of it. This concubine only wants to stay by Your Highness's side and serve Your Highness."

"The wind of the Snow Plains will wrinkle your face, and the cold of the Snow Plains will age your voice. Jin is truly a place that nurtures people.

I told you a long time ago that if you want to go back, I will agree. This is not a reversal, nor is it a lie. I am sincere."

"Your Highness, this concubine no longer has a home. Even if I return to Jin, how should I live?"

Hearing these words, the Third Prince sighed and said:

"The home is still there. Otherwise, why would those Jin slaves in the tribe all want to escape to Snow Sea Pass?

Alas, in the end, my eldest brother acted too arrogantly. He should have just chased the escaped slaves properly. He actually killed those slaves and piled them into a jingguan (mound of corpses).

The Yan people have been victorious in foreign wars in recent years, breaking Qian, swallowing Jin, killing Chu, and driving away my holy race. How could that young Yan Earl tolerate such humiliation?

In fact, in the end, I am too useless and not up to the task. Otherwise, when Wang rebelled, even if my father disagreed, I should have led a group of subordinates loyal to me to kill my father and several brothers first, and then asked Wang to send troops to help me control the Naiman tribe."

A flash of murderous intent appeared in the Third Prince's eyes.

Wu immediately said:

"Your Highness, if Your Highness went, you might, you might…"

"Are you afraid that I will die south of Snow Sea Pass? Hehe, in fact, it's all just losing. Don't look at how glorious my Naiman tribe is now. It's just losing a little later.

In my opinion, the reason why the Yan people have not taken the opportunity to attack the Snow Plains is first, because they need to recuperate, and second, because they need to guard against Chu.

But when the Yan people are ready, they will definitely send troops to the Snow Plains. Earl of Pingye, Earl of Pingye, the Yan emperor bestowed the title of Snow Sea Pass Commander, and the intention is actually very clear.

That is now...

If I could really be useful,

I should have united with the Yan Earl of Snow Sea Pass before my eldest brother made a mistake and asked him to help me rebel against my father and control the tribe.

In this way, although my Naiman tribe would become a dog led by the Earl's iron chain, it would still be better than becoming a dead dog."

"Your Highness, these words of yours today…"

"Since reading, there is one thing that I have come to understand more and more. Do you know what it is?"

"Your Highness, this concubine does not know."

"Heh, that is: A scholar is useless for anything."

Wu did not dare to speak.

The Third Prince then slammed the table heavily.

This prince, who had a barbarian face but a scholar's air about him,

at this moment, with red eyes, said word by word:

"But originally, my holy race, had a chance to win!"

……

Ever since he was beaten up by the master, Xue San had been in a bad mood, a very bad mood.

For the past few days, he had been reflecting;

why had he, so clever, so cute, so dashing,

made such a low-level mistake?

He couldn't figure it out,

the more he couldn't figure it out, the angrier he got,

so,

when he stabbed the dagger into the Naiman soldier's neck, he deliberately stabbed it a few centimeters deeper and stirred it around.

This was a big taboo for assassins, because it could cause more noise or more blood to splatter.

But Xue San felt that the depression in his heart seemed to dissipate a little because of this,

so,

after sneaking up to another Naiman soldier,

he once again stabbed the dagger fiercely into the other's chest.

Hu,

much more comfortable.

Two corpses were thrown aside, Xue San looked up at the two soldiers who seemed to be dozing off above, and climbed up at an extremely fast speed.

These two people were indeed dozing off.

Back to back, they were already sound asleep and snoring.

This made Xue San a little dissatisfied. Your Grandpa toiled so hard to sneak over to kill you, to pull out the nail, and you treat your Grandpa's efforts like this?

Your night watch is hard, but please respect my labor, okay?

So,

Xue San reached out and woke them up,

and after they opened their eyes,

two daggers were accurately stabbed into their necks, and the two struggled, their eyes widened, staring at Xue San in extreme horror, unable to make a sound.

Xue San just stared at them like this, enjoying the feeling of this eye contact,

until,

they lost their breath.

"Hu…"

Comfortable.

Xue San pulled out the daggers, stood up, his steps were a little unsteady, and his body was a little shaky.

He looked up,

at the clear, bright sky on the Snow Plains,

this was himself,

the life he wanted.

Third Master even wanted to sing a song, but it wasn't the right time.

He could only go down the tower and sneak to another tower, quickly solving the two Naiman soldiers below, and then climb up the tower.

This time, Third Master was quite satisfied; the two Naiman soldiers on the tower were not sleeping.

But their vigilance wasn't very high either.

One was leaning against the railing, seemingly thinking about a girl in someone's tent.

The other was sitting on the wooden planks of the tower, weaving a garland.

A very melancholy style, coupled with this starry sky, should be accompanied by soothing violin music to make the atmosphere more prominent.

Third Master felt a little pity for this scene,

and silently hung himself on the edge of the tower, "sharing a drink with them as three people", enjoying this literary tone together.

He didn't know how long it had passed,

anyway,

because his efficiency was too high, the previously agreed time still had a lot of leeway.

But the soldier weaving the garland on the tower stood up and shouted down, probably responding to his companions below.

So,

the peaceful and serene atmosphere ended,

just as people can choose to immerse themselves in this kind of tranquility for a short time, but in the end, they still need to look up and face reality.

A hidden crossbow was aimed at the soldier holding the garland. At the same time as it was fired, Xue San's body also flew over, sending the dagger into the neck of the soldier who was staring into the distance in a daze.

The two people died quickly and neatly.

Xue San silently sat down,

now, there were still three people.

But the feeling seemed different.

Xue San got up, and put the soldier who had been looking into the distance back into his previous pose, using very precious silk thread to fix him in place.

The other one was posed in a cross-legged sitting position, with the half-woven garland placed on his knees.

After doing this,

Xue San leaned against the railing,

slowly closed his eyes,

Mm,

this was the feeling.

……

While Xue San needed to be quiet because he was close to the camp,

A Ming was able to move more freely because the horse patrol he needed to deal with was farther away from the camp.

The other party had eight people, aimlessly wandering around the periphery.

They seemed to be patrolling, but from afar, you could feel the undisciplined attitude emanating from them.

Even though the Snow Sea Pass Commander, Earl of Pingye, had already issued a decree to all the tribes of the Snow Plains to attack the Naiman tribe,

the people of the Naiman tribe didn't seem to realize that war had already arrived.

On one side, there was the unwavering dispatch of troops and generals. The newly arrived barbarian soldiers hadn't even rested before being transferred over, and an extremely detailed battle plan was made.

On the other side, it seemed they were still leisurely enjoying the rare beautiful season on the Snow Plains.

Whether it was genuine carelessness or confidence,

A Ming felt that he liked the attitude of those eight Naiman sentries very much.

So,

A Ming didn't sneak around, but chose to stand on the ground where they were about to pass by, standing there, motionless.

The sentry team came over, and the leader used the moonlight to quickly spot the figure standing in front.

It had to be said that even though they were undisciplined, they still remembered what they were doing outside late at night. Immediately, two Naiman sentries drew their bows and shot at A Ming without hesitation.

"Pfft!"

One arrow missed, and one arrow hit A Ming in the chest.

Then,

A Ming fell down.

Immediately, the eight sentries rode over, surrounding A Ming lying on the ground.

One of them had a very good habit; even though the arrow-struck A Ming was lying on the ground, motionless, he still drew his bow and shot another arrow at A Ming's body.

It was a pity that Zheng Boye wasn't here, otherwise he would have definitely given a thumbs up to this behavior of delivering the coup de grace.

"Pfft!"

This arrow hit A Ming in the abdomen.

A Ming was still motionless.

But because the clothes A Ming was wearing didn't look like those of a slave, the leader still signaled a subordinate to dismount, pick up A Ming's "corpse", put it on horseback, and planned to take it back to the camp for a closer look.

They began to return.

If this was a game of Russian roulette, the first lucky contestant had already come out.

And coincidentally, he fell at the very back of the team.

This lucky barbarian knight only felt a gust of wind behind him. Then, he sensed that his neck had been bitten.

What was it like to be bitten by a vampire?

If it was a low-level vampire, it would be very painful when bitten, no different from being bitten by a dog.

But high-level vampires were different. After all, at their level, they had already begun to enjoy the atmosphere when dining and began to understand respect for food.

So, when A Ming's fangs pierced into the Naiman soldier's neck, the Naiman soldier didn't scream, and his face showed a look of intoxication, as if he was enjoying this feeling.

That itch, that sourness, that comfort,

was like a dream, dreaming that he was flying in the clouds.

Then,

in this state, he lost his life.

Immediately,

A Ming jumped up and jumped onto the horse of a Naiman knight in front, his fangs piercing in.

Then,

he followed suit.

Because A Ming's figure was as light as a ghost and his movements were extremely smooth, he resolved five barbarian knights in this way without being discovered.

If the leading barbarian hadn't turned his head to say something and saw that his subordinates were all lying prone on their horses, A Ming could have really sent them all back to the embrace of the stars in silence.

But,

it was alright if he was discovered.

A Ming's figure directly ejected over and landed behind another barbarian, his fangs piercing in. However, this one was not a lucky one, and he didn't enjoy the mental spa before death like his previous companion. A Ming raised his neck and directly snapped the neck of this brother.

Eight sentries, only two were still alive.

The leader drew his knife. Faced with this bizarre scene, he didn't choose to escape, but actively charged towards A Ming.

A Ming jumped up to meet him.

"Pfft!"

The blade pierced into A Ming's chest almost without resistance, but the inertia of A Ming's body caused him to slide forward along the blade and come in front of the leader.

The leader of this sentry team could even feel the feeling of his hand holding the hilt of the knife inside A Ming's body.

Not hot, very cold, very icy!

"Buzz!"

A gleam was released from the leader's body. Obviously, he was a martial artist.

A Ming didn't know how high his level was, and didn't need to know.

Because in a real fight, in addition to absolute strength, there were actually too many external conditions that could affect the true result of the duel.

For example, when the leader's body had just lit up,

A Ming's ten fingernails,

had already pierced into this brother's chest.

"Crack!"

With a stir,

the other party's body convulsed, blood flowed from the corner of his mouth, and he was directly cut off from life.

The only survivor didn't have the courage of the leader. This one, was the barbarian brother who had the good habit of delivering the coup de grace earlier.

It was precisely because he personally "delivered the coup de grace" that he was sure that A Ming was really dead, but this dead person had come back to life and killed his superior and other companions. This directly crushed his mind.

Escape, escape, must escape!

This was a demon, a demon!

A Ming didn't chase,

but silently pulled out the bow and arrow hanging on the leader's saddle,

drew the bow and nocked the arrow,

aimed,

the whole set of actions was completed in one go.

Because he was often used by the master as a target for practicing archery,

A Ming had long been accustomed to and proficient in the art of archery.

The keen perception of the blood clan was infused into the arrow,

even the wind speed, had already been considered.

"Buzz!"

The arrow was shot,

directly piercing the neck of the last survivor, who fell off his horse.

A Ming reached out and wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, and then pulled out the knife that was still in his stomach and threw it on the ground casually.

The injuries to his body were healing at a speed visible to the naked eye.

If you could stand close to A Ming,

you could even hear the slight cracking and squirming sounds made when the flesh and blood were repairing, like a damaged sweater, with the threads of the damaged part being removed and starting to be re-knitted.

A Ming took out a small bottle from his arms, opened the stopper, and inside, was black blood.

Yes,

it wasn't just Xue San who was playing with blood and doing experiments.

The demon kings would actually do nothing and ask each other for blood to do research.

In the past, it would have been really difficult to find so much novel blood, but fortunately there were a lot of raw materials on the master's side, making it convenient to borrow.

Today I'll ask you for a few hundred milliliters, and tomorrow I'll give you back a few hundred milliliters. Easy to borrow, easy to return, not hard to borrow again.

This bottle,

contained the blood of the Pixiu.

Yes, that's right, it was the Pixiu under Zheng Boye's crotch.

When A Ming showed his fangs and walked towards it, it could only lean there very aggrievedly, letting A Ming take some of its blood very quietly.

In order not to let the master discover that his beloved mount had been artificially bled,

A Ming also specifically chose to bleed it from the Pixiu's abdomen,

and then, when that Pixiu obediently rolled over on its side to let him harvest,

A Ming found that there were already many openings on its belly, proving that a group of animals had come before him!

At this time,

while his wounds were healing,

A Ming poured the Pixiu's blood into his mouth.

The blood clan's power came from blood. The classification of the blood clan's levels and strengths, which was also the essence of bloodline levels, was the level of power contained within the blood.

Truly powerful blood clans, even if they had only one drop of blood left, could rely on the power contained within that drop of blood to start repairing their bodies.

So what A Ming was doing now was trying to see if he could find another way to increase his strength horizontally if he couldn't improve his grade.

Then,

Hiss…

The wounds that were healing in the abdomen suddenly began to be disordered. The yarn that was being woven suddenly lost its sense of proportion and began to tie knots randomly.

This kind of pain could not be described by torture.

A Ming's arms hugged the warhorse under his crotch tightly, and the warhorse was also affected by A Ming's aura and became very well-behaved, not daring to toss around.

For a long time,

A Ming raised his head with a pale face,

reached out and touched his abdomen,

the wound had not completely healed, and it was even more empty in his body because of his previous tossing.

"Is this the shackle that Blind Man often talks about, the shackle between us and the master?"

Whether it was vertically or horizontally,

you simply could not obtain the possibility of increasing your own power from channels other than the master.

A Ming opened his mouth,

and made a few self-deprecating laughter,

"Hehe…

In the end,

I still have to go back and keep licking the master."

"What, you still want to rebel?"

Xue San's voice appeared beside A Ming. Then, he walked out of the shadows and said with a look of disgust:

"I'm saying, do you vampires love to show off so much? Can't you just show off your strong self-healing ability without giving yourself some color when fighting?"

Immediately,

Xue San sniffed with his nose,

and he smelled a familiar smell,

and immediately shouted:

"Damn, this is Pixiu blood. You actually dare to secretly bleed the master's treasure mount!"

"Heh." A Ming was too lazy to pay attention to him.

Because he didn't believe that Xue San hadn't bled it too.

"How should I say it, if you want to do experiments, I'll build a small laboratory, and we can do it together, what do you think? If you do it yourself like this, it's easy to cripple yourself. This is too unsafe."

"If I let you do it, I'm afraid I'll be gone directly."

"Look, look, that's not a nice thing to say. Sigh."

Xue San stopped arguing and looked to the other side, where hundreds of black shadows were already infiltrating the barbarian tribal camp, following the routes that he and A Ming had cleared earlier. The scythe of the god of death was already raised high under the cover of the night.

"Actually, the simplest and most practical method is also there. It's just two words."

Xue San said, jumping up and patting A Ming on the shoulder, and continued:

"Do you know what those two words are?"

Xue San pursed his lips,

spit on the ground,

and answered himself:

"Acceptance."

————

Good night, everyone.