After walking for only a short while, the group arrived at a teahouse established on the outskirts of the docks.
The teahouse stood six stories tall, decorated in an antique, elegant style with a refined charm. It formed a stark contrast with the passenger terminal not far away. Its business had always been excellent, with a constant stream of customers coming and going.
Yet today, at this very moment, the teahouse was incomparably empty and silent. Not a trace of noise drifted out. Every tea table and private room stood vacant.
Only at a tea table in the very center of the first-floor hall sat three people—two men and one woman, one burly and two young. Their clothing gleamed gold like the sun, extravagantly magnificent and brimming with nobility.
At their sides stood around eight servants who seemed to attend them personally. Though all lowered their brows and kept their eyes meekly downcast, each was like a slumbering ferocious beast, possessing an incomparably powerful aura linked to heaven and earth. They were all innate martial artists.
When Meng Zhao and his group pushed open the doors and entered the first-floor tea hall, this was the scene that greeted them.
The two men and one woman, who had been idly drinking tea and chatting, all stopped what they were doing upon seeing Meng Zhao's group enter and turned their attention to the newcomers.
The broad, powerfully built man with short whiskers, along with the swordsman carrying an iron sword on his back and radiating sharp sword qi, hurried over to the table after entering the tea hall. After respectfully saluting, they turned to the young man among the three and said,
"Master, the two of us have fulfilled our mission without disgrace. Young Master Meng has been invited."
The young man