Deep within the Qiu clan's vast territory lay the ancestral ground, a sacred place reserved for the clan's most powerful experts.
The area was shrouded in an aura of forgotten time.
Tall ancient trees stretched toward the heavens, their canopies blocking much of the moonlight.
Overgrown grasses brushed against one's legs, while the calls of night birds and the hum of insects echoed in the still air.
Small spirit beasts scurried about, unbothered by the presence of intruders.
At the very heart of the ancestral ground stood a lone, ancient manor.
Its wooden beams were darkened with age, yet its presence radiated majesty and authority.
Qiu An and the clan master both gazed at the manor with expressions full of reverence.
This was not merely a residence, it was the dwelling place of their clan's true pillars, the ones even they dared not offend.
Mo Jian's expression remained calm and unreadable, though he too recognized the significance of this place.
