"This should be the place."
The four of them arrived at a small teahouse. It was noisy inside, with all kinds of people gathered there.
"Waiter, bring us a pot of high-mountain jasmine tea."
"Coming right up."
According to Xiao Xinghai, this teahouse was a secret place where missions were posted. If you came here and ordered a pot of high-mountain jasmine tea—which didn't actually exist—it meant you weren't here for a drink, but were a cultivator seeking a mission.
The dragons weren't always waiting here for cultivators looking to take on missions. Sometimes you had to wait half a day before one showed up. At the worst of times, you might wait three days and not see a single dragon.
Lu Yang and the others were lucky. They had only finished two pots of tea when a dragon sent them a voice transmission.
"You four young friends, come meet me at the end of the room on the west side."
Lu Yang and the others drained their cups. They had to admit, whatever tea the waiter had brought them, it tasted pretty good.
The four of them went to the room on the west side and found it empty except for a dragon wrapped up from head to toe. He clearly didn't want them to know who he was; only the pair of horns he hadn't concealed proved he was a dragon.
In the dragons' eyes, their horns were a source of pride and should never be covered.
"Have you come to obtain dragon blood?"
"Yes. Our friend is badly wounded and needs dragon blood to heal."
The black-robed dragon snorted, taking Lu Yang's words for an attempt to win sympathy. "We're strangers who've crossed paths by chance, each here for what we need. There's no need to explain