When Feng Hao arrived, he was truly taken aback by how plain the City Lord's Mansion was.
The simple decorations were one thing, but as he walked, he didn't see a single guard or servant. It completely shattered the image Feng Hao had of what a City Lord's life should be like.
He followed a gravel path overgrown with weeds until a quaint little pavilion came into view. Inside, at a stone table with stone stools, sat the white-haired Old City Lord, leisurely sipping hot tea. Wisps of steam drifted up, giving the scene an ethereal quality, as if it were both real and an illusion.
"Ah, you've come, young man?" The Old City Lord's eyes crinkled with a smile, his ancient, wrinkled face exceptionally warm and kind.
Feng Hao dared not be disrespectful. He bowed deeply and stepped forward. "Feng Hao greets the Old City Lord. Thank you for your assistance."
"Heh," the Old City Lord chuckled. "There's no need for such formalities."
