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The shimmering waters of the Yangchun River lay silent and majestic, rendering human strength utterly insignificant before it.
Wisps of cooking smoke rose, carrying the rich aroma of meat.
Giant stew pots were lined up along the riverbank, one after another, stretching to the end of the line of sight.
Colonels in cloud-patterned ink robes, or draped in Fierce Wolf Cloaks, had never carried out such an order before. Without wine, they simply had to eat the meat heartily.
As for the source of the meat.
Three fierce dragon heads of the Jiao Clan were hung high, their hundred-yard long bodies coiled on the riverbank. Though they had been dead for a while, they still maintained their appearance from when alive, without any signs of decay. Colonels with some cooking skills carved meat with treasured knives, then stewed it over high heat, sprinkling fine salt to make it palatable.
The old general, clad in profound armor, sat at the forefront, with a small table before him.
