Two days later, a fleet sailed east along the Wu River into Lingwu Outer City and disembarked at a port controlled by the Meng Family.
The one receiving them was the current General Yangwu, Lord of the Northern Meng Dragon King, Meng Zhao. At his side stood the brothers Meng Yan and Meng Chuan. The arrivals were Meng Hongdao of the Southern An Meng Family, his wife An Hui, and a number of Meng Family experts.
It had been two years since they had last met, yet Meng Zhao showed no great unfamiliarity toward Meng Hongdao. Smiling, he stepped forward with clasped hands to exchange pleasantries, lavishing praise upon them—calling his uncle mighty and his aunt beautiful. Every word rolled sweetly off his tongue.
Meng Yan and Meng Chuan, though their biological sons, seemed somewhat tongue-tied. They stood with lowered brows like quails, with none of their former wildness or imposing vigor.
Children everywhere were like this when they met their parents, especially after being away from home for a long time.
Meng Chuan was understandable enough. He had always been rather dull by nature; before Meng Zhao, he still showed some youthful sharpness and high spirits, but before his parents, he displayed more of a steady bearing.
Meng Yan, on the other hand, had been away from home for many years. Seeing his parents again, he felt joy, guilt, and a trace of fear all at once.
As Meng Hongdao and An Hui looked at the three Meng brothers, their hearts too were stirred by indescribable, surging emotions.
Of the three brothers, Meng Zhao was not their biological son, and they had spent very little time together. Yet now he had become a peerless powerhouse, commanding countless elite soldiers and experts. His achievements had already surpassed those of his