The Myriad Demon Marsh was called a marsh, but it was not all mud and mire.
Three thousand li to the south.
The terrain rose sharply, and the miasma gradually thinned.
There stood a ridge called Perched Phoenix.
Though Perched Phoenix Ridge lacked towering heights that pierced the clouds, it made up for that with abundant spiritual energy, wreathed in billowing clouds and rosy mist all year round.
Great swathes of red maples blazed like fire across the mountain, burning half the sky a translucent red.
Set against the snowy white mist all around, it was truly an abode fit for immortals.
This was the Lu Clan's ancestral home.
At that moment, however, streaks of surging light kept crossing the sky above Perched Phoenix Ridge and descending upon it.
Clearly, something was about to happen today.
Two streaks of light landed, revealing an old man and a young man.
The young fellow had barely touched down before he complained to the elder, "The Lu Clan sure is lucky. Not only did they get to claim this precious spot, they even get the cultivators around here to obediently come hand over their money."
The old man shot him a sidelong glance and sneered. "Luck? How naive."
"What, did I say something wrong?"
The elder shook his head. "Claiming this precious land and getting the surrounding cultivators to accept their Treasure Gathering Fair-how could that be down to luck alone... The Lu Clan had its glory days. They supposedly had a formidable ancestor who cultivated the Incense-and-Fire Golden Body. Back then, never mind the southern Great Marsh-even across the entire Eastern Region, he was a name that rang loud and clear."
"A pity wealth rarely lasts beyond three generations. Cultivation is much the same. Once that ancestor died, each generation of the