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Chen Mufeng returned from the Central Hall to his residence, only to find that his wife, Madam Li, was sitting in the courtyard. Seated at the head of the hall were two elderly men.
One of them wore a brown robe, with the empty sleeve of his severed arm appearing stark against the air. His hair was withered, his eyes sunken, and his entire being exuded the aura of someone nearing the end of their life.
The other elder had a much steadier presence. A longsword rested on his back, and he wore a light gray robe. His posture was slightly hunched, as he leaned against a wooden chair.
Chen Mufeng recognized these two faces all too well. Years ago, when he had been entrusted to Li Qiuyang by Old Master Chen, he had sat respectfully before these very same elders. Without hesitation, he immediately bowed deeply and said solemnly, "Mufeng greets master and elder."
Li Qiuyang’s aged face remained heavy with contemplation. Once a farmer, he was now one of the highest-ranking elders in the clan, yet his expression remained unchanged from the past.
He had once held the reins of the horses for Li Xiangping...
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