Fang Shu had not flown for long before arriving at the Iron Clan's territory.
Though it was already afternoon, the Iron Clan market sprawled here remained as bustling as a cauldron at a rolling boil.
A thousand sails raced, ten thousand vessels surged.
The cloudships varied in draft. Some were laden with spirit rice, others stocked with demon bones. Talismans were embroidered upon their hulls and sails; though there was no wind, they fluttered and snapped loudly.
Ships came and went without cease, most belonging to itinerant cultivators and traveling merchants who made their living on the water. Cries repeatedly rang out: "Finest green-oak stone beasts! Buy now while supplies last!"
"Drop anchor, drop anchor!" "Make way—"
In the distance, the immortal mountain occupied by the Iron Clan's ancestor loomed high above all the clamor.
The mountain was untouched by dust, its entirety suffused with a weighty golden gleam that shone brilliantly.
Auspicious clouds wreathed its mountainside, within which pavilions and towers could vaguely be seen, arranged in orderly layers. Their upturned eaves and bracket sets were exquisite, spiritual light flowing around them in shapes like flood dragons, tigers, and leopards—a sight of countless splendors.
Fang Shu lowered his cloud and landed upon the iron chains at the Iron Clan dock.
Although he had not informed Senior Brother Wu Tong or his sister-in-law beforehand, he merely displayed the token at his waist to the Iron Clan members, and they promptly ushered him into the clan's reception hall.
"An immortal master has graced us with his presence. Forgive us for failing to welcome you from afar, forgive us!"
A middle-aged steward in brocade robes wore a smile piled high across his face. Though he did not know Fang Shu's purpose, he still courteously led him inside.
Fang Shu could not help