The messenger seemed to be a little surprised and confused, he had never seen anyone refuse the invitation of the Great Vramatar without hesitation.

"I am invited by the Great Vramatar, he is the brain of the state, the servant of the servants of the god Ahura, you envoy, do you want to insult our country and the gods?"

Alexander snorted and laughed, shook his head helplessly, and said, "Open your eyes and see, I am a Roman, a Roman nobleman." It is even possible to say in your words, I am the nobility of the Roman aristocracy. Go back and remind you of the 'slaves of the gods', we Romans are gods ourselves, and we Romans want to negotiate, come and meet me!"

The messenger's face turned pale, "You are too arrogant!" Alexander looked irritably at the empty wine glass, raised his left wrist, and glanced at the gold watch on his wrist. Hand display, 7 o'clock.

At this time, a servant observed the words and brought a tray of wine with three glasses of red wine. "Do you need wine?"

Alexander frowned in satisfaction and took the entire tray and placed it on the stone fence. He drank one of them, put down the empty cup, and picked up the second, and was about to have another pleasure, when he noticed a burnt yellow note on the bottom of the cup, which fell off the plate and fell to the ground flutteringly.

Alexander frowned, leaned over and picked up the yellow paper.

"Good evening, Elder Lu!"

The content on the yellow paper has no front and back, no skin and no face, I don't know what to say. The characters are written in charcoal, and I don't know who started this pen, but it has become popular in Peshawar.

Alexander's pupils constricted as he looked back at the servant who had delivered the wine, but he was gone.

"It's finally there!" Alexander smiled contemptuously at the corners of his mouth, and drank another glass of wine.

When he picked up the third glass, several Sassanids walked briskly towards him, and Alexander sighed, rolled his eyes to the sky, and put down the glass in his hand.

"Can't you let me rest for a while, Great Vramatar Hazarpath?" he said with his hands outstretched, shrugging his shoulders, almost breathlessly.

Hazar Path, a shrewd man, came with a small jar of wine in his hand, and when he saw Alexander, he immediately returned to his seats, leaving only one guard to stay a little farther away.

"I have here a jar of the finest wine, which is said to have been made by the former Roman emperor Nero himself, and some were given to the Sassanid royal ancestors. Our king was wise and generous, and I was rewarded with an altar for a small merit. I am willing to take it and enjoy it with my most worthy friends. ”

He walked over to the stone fence, looked at the two empty cups, poured two cups, and brought one of them to Alexander. "Please try it!"

Alexander hesitated, then indifferently put down the red wine in his hand and took the glass from Hazar Pat. He took a sip with an appreciative expression, "Nero is the best at enjoyment, his wine is really strong, there is a whiff... How to say it... The smell of fire!"

Hazarpata laughed out loud that Nero had burned the city of Rome and that Alexander was making a joke about his country's history.

"In our country, the king is a god and must not be joked with, and from this the spirit of the Romans is enviable and admirable. ”

Hazarpata added: "But I also have a little disagreement, assuming... Just suppose, if you are the emperor, can you accept this kind of joke from others to your face and not care?"

Alexander didn't answer directly, but suddenly poured out the wine in his hand slowly, and then drew a drunken waterline between the two.

"You see, I know the price of this wine, and it means more than money, and if anyone spoils it, you will ask him for compensation, right?" asked Alexander.

Hazarpata looked at him with some confusion and replied, "Probably!".

"But what should I compensate you, money or something else?" Alexander smiled and leaned closer and said, "Fortunately, it's me, whether you want money or meaning, I can give it to you." ”

This is equivalent to admitting his identity, the old fox Hazar Paert suddenly looked at him, took advantage of the lack of attention, slightly stroked his chest and bowed, "I didn't expect it to be you, I hope I didn't have any rudeness before." ”

"Give me another glass of wine, and I'll say anything!"

"Of course, of course!" Hazarpata immediately filled the empty cup. "It's really an honor, I didn't expect you to deign to come here as an envoy with such an identity. May I ask you why?"

"Why?" said Alexander, as if he had just begun to think, "I just want to see the special scenery." ”

"Look at the scenery? You can see some scenery here. But Rome is a thousand miles away, isn't it?"

"I said the word 'special,' didn't I? Here, for example, look!" Alexander raised his chin and glared at the audience, the banquet hall was full of noise and the smell of food and wine, some were just enjoying the food, and some were looking at the eagle with no understanding of the taste.

"It's like a fire that keeps me warm. He said.

"But you can't let the fire burn you, so you drink here, and let the wine separate you from the fire, which is the wisdom that a monarch deserves. ”

"But the fire is coming, isn't it?" said Alexander, pointing his finger at Hazar Path, looking helpless.

Hazarpatha laughed, "It's always pleasant to talk to smart people." ”

Alexander also smiled, "Say it, what do you want?"

He asked directly, and Hazar Path replied directly: "We want Persia." ”

"Then what are you doing here? This is not Persia, this is India, the end of Alexander the Great of Macedonia. ”

"There are many things we want here, there are Parthian allies Kushan, there are cowardly and incompetent emperors, there is a strong army that does not know who the master really is, and there are floating hearts. Hazar Path bowed to the chamber, and Minarsega was talking privately to Lord Taha.

This Taha lord is the leader of the forbidden army in the capital, holds military power, and is one of the key figures in the political situation.

"We hope that Kushan will declare war on Parthia and attack from the east, and if we are lucky enough to have the help of the powerful Romans, then Parthia will inevitably be caught in a war on both eastern and western fronts, and we Sassanid will give it a fatal blow from the south, then Parthia will be eaten by us like a piece of cheese. ”

"And then you Sassanids get the biggest piece of cheese of these, and the Roman army begs you for the last piece like beggars, and then returns to Jerusalem in disgrace, isn't it?"