In the south of the Cloud-Dream Realm.
There lay waters fifty thousand li across, their mist reaching the heavens, their shores nowhere in sight.
Cultivators called this place the Fifty-Thousand-Li Great Marsh.
A rather outlandish tale about the origins of this great marsh circulated throughout the Cloud-Dream Realm.
Legend had it that over a hundred thousand years ago, this place had been an unbroken sea of parched earth, a thousand li of scorched land where not a blade of grass grew.
Then a destitute scholar carrying a battered wine jug passed through. Unable to bear his thirst any longer, he tipped his head back and turned the jug upside down.
Only a few drops of leftover wine came out.
The scholar sighed and casually smashed the jug against the ground.
Who could have known that, as the jug shattered, endless torrents of water would surge wildly from its fragments?
They flowed for three days and three nights without stopping, flooding that sea of parched earth into fifty thousand li of waterways.
Before leaving, the scholar used his finger as a sword to carve a doggerel verse into a cliff face.
"A jug of leftover wine pours without end; I borrow your parched earth to make a pool. For fifty thousand li, waves stretch away; whether I float or sink is mine to rule, not Heaven's."
Thus came the Fifty-Thousand-Li Great Marsh.
By now, this great marsh had become one of the most prosperous gathering places in southern Cloud Dream.
Islands dotted its surface like stars in the sky and pieces on a chessboard, with trading markets everywhere.
Human cultivators came here seeking water-aspect spiritual materials, while demons and other creatures cultivated by drawing in and expelling the moisture here.
Fish and dragons mingled, and people of every creed and calling