"Refugees from Fengxian?"
Hearing this, Chen Mo raised an eyebrow, as if he had guessed what was happening. After considering for a few moments, he waved his hand and started walking down the hill, saying, "Let's go take a look."
When Chen Mo reached the village entrance, Zhang He was leading the Divine Brave Guard to stop the group of ragged refugees outside the village.
Out of the several hundred members of the Divine Brave Guard, over a hundred were wearing armor and holding official sabers. The rest were holding firewood knives or hoes. With days of training and access to ample food and meat, they were not afraid of this group of refugees at all.
"Brother Mo."
"Immortal Master Chen."
"Immortal Master Chen."
"..."
As soon as Chen Mo arrived, Zhang He and others greeted him one by one.
The refugees were stunned to see that the person in charge was a young boy who still smelled of milk, inevitably looking down on him somewhat.
