Chen Mu neither cared nor concerned himself with the discussions outside the formation barrier.
By then, Long Yi had led them to a secluded village.
A hundred mu of fertile fields stretched out before them. As a breeze blew, ripples swept through the green rice, while beside the wooden houses, waterwheels slowly turned...
The sight before them could certainly be described as picturesque.
To Chen Mu, living in such a place, free from worldly strife, seemed a fine choice.
Something worth considering in the future...
"My lord, this is where our clan chief lives," Long Yi introduced, coming to a stop.
Seeing Chen Mu nod, Long Yi pushed open the courtyard gate and led him and Ye Qingcheng inside.
Just as they entered the courtyard, the house door opened. A frail old man with white hair and a hunched back slowly emerged, leaning on a cane with one hand while other members of the Half-Dragon Clan supported his other arm.
Chen Mu could tell at a glance that this man did not have long to live. His lifespan had reached its limit.
Seeing that he intended to kneel and pay his respects, Chen Mu spoke first. "No need."
He worried that once the old man knelt, he might never get up again. After all, even his steps were unsteady.
"Thank you, my lord." The clan chief, Long Qingyang, bowed his head slightly and glanced at the stone table and stools nearby. "Please, have a seat."
They sat down.
"May I ask what brings you here, my lord?" As Long Qingyang spoke, his eyes, narrowed until their pupils were barely visible, remained fixed on the black dragon perched on Chen Mu's shoulder, never straying for an instant.
He could sense that this black dragon possessed dragon blood of the utmost purity.