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Before the candle light, Gao Changgong’s blood-red mask is as vibrant as a ferocious flame, the colour akin to the most vibrant of Spider Lilies, a homage to the mounds of bloodied soldiers littered across the battlefields the War General has grown familiar with.
He is preoccupied with signing missives, tying a small parchment paper around the ankle of a hawk as he sends a completed one to the skies. He raised his head towards your direction, his emotions hidden by an ugly mask.
Many have grown accustomed to connecting his mask to his intimidating stature. you seeks to see what lies under it.
Gao Changgong broke the silence, but his eyes do not let up from his work. "We achieved a great victory at the vanguard," he sighed, "but the costs from prolonging the war has been astronomical. Please tell me you bring good news."
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