"Thank goodness nothing happened to the Rear Hall..." someone whispered.
Not everyone knew the truth about Lower River City God. They only cared that the ancestral tablets of the Three Households in the Rear Hall were unharmed.
"Looks like we'll have to send someone to consult Master Tang about this..."
Members of the three families began talking all at once...
"Ah, one disaster after another. Not long ago, every deity statue cracked, and now lightning has struck. Doesn't it all seem eerie to you?"
"Exactly. I heard they dug up something unclean in the back courtyard. Could the feng shui here have gone bad...?"
The younger members of the three families, unaware of what had happened, whispered among themselves. Rumors flew everywhere.
Those who understood the situation were even more worried. The situation was far worse than they had expected!
Lower River City God was the foundation of their three families. The Ghost Gods of the City God were their ancestors, the ones who had blazed trails through thorns and brambles to open up Lower River.
Back then, the Three Families of Xiajiang had been nothing more than minor lineages in the Central Land. If they had not been driven to it, who would have left home, crossed the sea, and abandoned their country? Who would have come to this godforsaken wilderness to clear land and farm it?
And how could that have been easy? In those days, the average lifespan among the three families was only twenty-five. Every year, hundreds died from miasma, poisonous insects, or attacks by native tribes...
The three families had paid with the lives, blood, and sweat of countless descendants. After more than a century, they had finally established Lower River City—though at the time, it was a tiny town less than five hundred paces