The fight on Fulong Mountain lasted for nearly half a day. All the people in Wuyingmen were killed, and some of the shadow guards were also injured to varying degrees. By the time the scene was cleaned up, it was almost dusk.
Meng Yuan stood on the edge of the cliff with his hands behind his back and looked far into the distance. The mountains in front of him were like the sea, the setting sun was like blood, and the afterglow of the setting sun reflected on him, making his silver hair dyed with a warm color, but he still couldn't resolve it. His eyes were cold.
"Brother Yuan, look, this thing looks like the imperial decree of the father." Meng Tianlin flew towards Meng Yuan and showed him a roll of bright yellow silk on his hand.
Meng Yuan turned his head to the side when he heard the words, the bright yellow silk embroidered with the golden dragon pattern on the back was indeed quite similar to the imperial decree.
