“Well if it isn’t Zhao Wuye of Longsu’s Zhao Clan?” Before Zhao Wuye’s voice subsided, a short monkey-like man smiled insincerely. Behind him was a feminine youth who was wearing a white headscarf which covered his mouth and nose as he kept glancing at the sky with both eyes. “How is it that you’re finally willing to leave your poor neck of the woods at the Zhao Clan? Oh, which high branch did you climb up on? The Zhao Clan actually has knowledge of this opportunity?”

“Hehe, it surprises me that your Ge Clan of Jianghan actually knows about this information. I heard a few years ago that the old lord of Xichuan’s Baili Clan chose a cemetery, and your clan actually picked out a tomb for him inside a tomb. The Dragon-Vein seeking of your clan is getting worse by the generation,” Zhao Wuye immediately riposted, sneering as he replied. 

“Hmph,” the old man surnamed Ge snorted coldly. “We might be getting worse each generation, but at least we have generations to compare. Unlike your clan, which has lost the Netherpierce Eye for three generations. You bunch really do have some cheek to come here.” 

Zhao Wuye laughed darkly, but didn’t respond. Zhao Ziqi was the Zhao Clan’s genius of this generation. Although Ziqi had only started drawing qi into the body, he could just barely be regarded as initial Qi Condensation. However, the impressive nether eyes had indeed been inherited by him.

A small pond was hard-pressed to rear a golden dragon. When Zhao Wuye heard that his patron arrived with information...