April 25th.
The camp of the An Yuan City garrison once again welcomed a group of people, and this group was here to transport the spoils of war, led by none other than Wang Sheng.
Wang Sheng arrived with three hundred soldiers and over a thousand civilians.
When Wang Sheng saw those spoils of war, the mounds of severed heads, a look of envy appeared in his eyes.
Yes, he was envious.
He too wanted to go to the battlefield, to kill enemies and achieve meritorious deeds.
But Wang Bin wouldn't allow it; he could only help Wang Bin with some logistical affairs.
Being able to come to transport the spoils of war was already quite rare for him.
"Uncle, ah, it's a pity that your nephew cannot join you on the battlefield!"
Standing in front of Yang Zhenshan, Wang Sheng spoke with a look of dejection.
Yang Zhenshan laughed heartily, "There will be opportunities in the future!"
That was the only consolation he could offer Wang Sheng.
