The victorious and defeated soldiers are unexpected, and Bao humiliation is a man.

The children of Jiangdong are talented, and their comeback is unknown.

This is a poem by Du Mu "Wujiang Pavilion" hanging in Dong Xingbang's study. Roughly speaking, victory or defeat is unpredictable, but being able to endure defeat and shame is the real man - endure calm for a while, take a step back and open the sky, and sometimes, bowing your head does not mean admitting defeat.

This is a poem written by Du Mu when passing by Wujiang Pavilion, which can be said to be a poem criticizing Xiang Yu, the overlord of Western Chu.

The sky gradually darkened, and there was no way to fish, so Dong Xingbang let the bodyguards deal with the fish he caught, and then pulled Yan Murong into his study.

"Murong, do you understand the meaning of this poem?" Dong Xingbang asked with a smile.

"Understood." Yan Murong nodded, looked at Dong Xingbang and said.

"That's good." Dong Xingbang nodded with satisfaction, walked to the wall, personally took down the painting from the wall, rolled it up and put it in Yan Murong's hand, and said. "Since you understand, I will give you this letter, hang it up when you go back, and don't take the road of the overlord of Chu."

Yan Murong was sweating profusely.

This old man actually compared himself with Xiang Yu, the overlord of Western Chu, which is too.

But when you think about it, it's a bit like that.

Xiang Yu has been strong all his life, but he is not good at listening to other people's opinions, not good at employing people, and not knowing how to forbear and endure humiliation.

Xiang Yu is like this, and Yan Murong is the same, but Yan Murong has not yet reached the level of Xiang Yu.

Yan Murong understood that this was Dong Xingbang reminding him that he should bear when he should forbear, and take a step back when he should take a step back - even if you have a hard fist, you can't rush up with your fist when you encounter anything. What if you can hit ten at a time? What if you can fight a hundred? Didn't someone give you a shot and you had to stand up?

"This-Grandpa Dong, isn't this a little too valuable?" Yan Murong grabbed the calligraphy and painting in his hand and asked with some hesitation.

Dong Xingbang is an elder, he is a junior, it stands to reason that he should bring gifts to Dong Xingbang. However, this goods came empty-handed, and asked Dong Xingbang to give him a gift.

"What is precious and not valuable." Dong Xingbang smiled and waved his hand. "I'm not a calligrapher and painter, and this poem is not written by me, so if there's anything valuable, take it."

"Okay then, thank you Grandpa Dong." Yan Murong smiled and thanked him, but he was thinking in his heart. Even if this old man is not a calligrapher and painter, what if everyone? If he writes a few words -- no, just write a random word and put it up for auction, I guess a lot of people will have to go crazy.

Just like in "Tang Bohu Dots Autumn Fragrance", Tang Bohu asked his subordinates to throw out a basket of garbage, which would make people go crazy.

This story tells us that when a person's rights or talents reach a peak state, let alone a word or a painting, even if he throws out a pair of stinky socks with holes, someone will snatch them.

As he spoke, there was a knock on the door of the study, and an old man with gray hair and a slightly rickety body stood at the door, looked at Dong Xingbang and said. "Master, the eldest young master, the eldest young grandmother, the second young master, and the third young master are all back."

"Speechless?" Dong Xingbang looked at the old man and asked.

"Sir, miss, he doesn't answer the phone." The old man said with some embarrassment.

"Forget it." Dong Xingbang sighed, looked at the old man and said. "Lao Wang, you go down first, I'll go down."

The old man nodded, turned and walked out.

"This is my butler." Dong Xingbang looked at Yan Murong and said. "The butler who has been with me for more than forty years."

Yan Murong didn't speak, and looked at Dong Xingbang a little strangely, not understanding what he meant by introducing a housekeeper to himself. But since he said it, it had his meaning, and Yan Murong had no choice but to wait, waiting for him to continue.

"He's amazing." Dong Xingbang continued. "At least I've lived so many years and seen the most powerful man, forty years ago, forty years later - I don't know how far he's got."

"Does he know kung fu?" Yan Murong asked in surprise.

After the old man who was called Lao Wang by Dong Xingbang just now came in, Yan Murong also glanced at him. With gray hair and wrinkled face, he is about the same age as Dong Xingbang, but he looks older than his normal age, and his body is rickety, his eyes are a little cloudy, whether it is from his walking posture or his eyes, Yan Murong can't see that this housekeeper who has been with Dong Xingbang for forty years knows kung fu, and Dong Xingbang also calls him a master.

Master? How powerful is it to be called a master?

"Hehe, he will." Dong Xingbang said with a smile. "Lao Wang is not only my butler, but also my bodyguard."

"And how good is he?" Yan Murong asked curiously. His kung fu was passed on by the old man, and he didn't know how powerful the old man was, but he knew that at his current level, he could take up to five moves under the old man. After five moves, although he will not be defeated, he will be beaten by the old man and have no power to fight back.

"It's amazing." Dong Xingbang said. "I don't know exactly how powerful it was - all I know is that he saved my life when we were surrounded by a dozen gunmen - and that all the dozen gunmen died."

Yan Murong was shocked.

It's no wonder that Yan Murong was surprised. If he had been surrounded by a dozen gunmen, he would have been able to escape, if not easily.

But if he wasn't allowed to run, but let him kill the dozen gunmen while surrounded, he thought to himself he couldn't do it. It is estimated that before he could do it, he was already beaten into a sieve.

And this one looks like a housekeeper and bodyguard of a dying old man, but he can do it.

Yan Murong thought that if he encountered such a situation, unless he was possessed by Chao or Spider-Man, he would be able to kill all the dozen or so gunslingers.

"He's been with you for forty years?" Yan Murong asked in surprise.

"Forty-two years, three months and twenty-seven days, to be exact." Dong Xingbang said with a smile.

"Then he-"

"I don't know." Dong Xingbang shook his head, he had already guessed what Yan Murong wanted to ask. "I don't know where he came from, I don't know what his name is, from the first day I knew him, I only knew that his surname was Wang."

"It's weird." Yan Murong shook his head and said.

"There's nothing strange about that." Dong Xingbang smiled and suddenly said to Yan Murong. "Later, will you go and meet him?"

"See whom?" Yan Murong asked suspiciously.

"Lao Wang." Dong Xingbang said.

"Why?"

"Because he wants to see you."