A single eye looked up at the helm on his comrade. Zhang Liao was a man of few words. What he did say was simple and to the point. It was a trait that Xiahou Dun wished more of his fellows had. Much of his life would be easier if his men weren’t prone to mindless chatter and just said what they wanted out front.
From what Xiahou Dun could guess from the Warrior’s previous statement as well as his gesture, there was an issue with his helm. Perhaps it was too big or even not big enough?
”Debating a change of pace in armor?”
“Indeed,” he confirmed with a slight nod, and with such an inquiry along the lines of his own thoughts, Zhang Liao lifted his head to spy Cao Cao’s right hand before him, jaw clenching in what seemed to be an internal struggle as his gaze shifted away.
