The territory of the Mingjiao Clan.
This land lies at the heart of the Blackwater Marsh. Legend has it that this place was not originally called the Blackwater Marsh but the Blackwater Plains—until the Mingjiao Clan migrated here. With incessant rainfall over the years, it gradually transformed into its current state.
Above the marsh stretch vast pavilions and towers. Were it not for their exaggerated size, one might almost mistake the scenery for the Jiangnan region.
The Mingjiao Clan are cultured demons who have studied in the Central Divine Continent—unlike those uncouth bumpkins.
Today, the clan’s territory is bustling with activity.
Every aquatic creature in the Blackwater Marsh with even the slightest connection to the Mingjiao Clan has gathered here, for today is the Selection Assembly where the clan competes for the Divine Jade.
As everyone knows, the Mingjiao Clan rules the Blackwater Marsh, and they alone possess the right to enter the Hanging Temple.
A lavish banquet is laid out by the lakeside.
Demons of all kinds clink cups and chatter noisily, creating a lively atmosphere.
Among them, one can spot crab clansmen scuttling sideways, shrimp clansmen with their heads still armored, river mussel clansmen seated in their shells, and...
A foreign Mingjiao riding a human?
This Mingjiao clansman is actually perched on a human’s shoulders!
Moreover, his transformation is nearly flawless, with only faint traces of his demonic features remaining.
"Where would Father and Mother be?" Murong Xiao wondered aloud, scanning the surroundings.
"Our clansmen are seated at the inner banquet," Wu Dameng said, pointing toward the pavilion at the lake’s center.
The Mingjiao clansmen and other powerful demons were seated in the pavilions closer to the lake’s heart, while the lesser demons, there merely for the spectacle, feasted in the outer areas.
As they passed, curious gazes and murmurs followed them.
"Shrimp Boss, why didn’t you bring your son this time?"
"Don’t even ask. On our way here, a bird clan snatched him away. Now, my lineage is reduced to just me—a lone shrimp-headed man."
"Ah, those avian clans truly bully us too much!"
"Well, last time the Heavenly Divine Jade was seized by the Roc Clan. Who’s to say it won’t happen again? It might not even land in our aquatic clans’ hands."
"How so?"
"Haven’t you heard? The Qingluan Clan has birthed a goddess."
...
The Qingluan Goddess...
While Li Mo felt a flicker of relief, his thoughts couldn’t help but drift.
His mind conjured an image of the icy beauty—wings unfurled, soaring across the sky, her clear, luminous gaze softening ever so slightly as she looked his way. Her jade-like face, cold as frost, would warm just for him as she extended a fair hand, lifting him into the heavens...
She would surely go to the Hanging Temple.
"Brother Li," Huang Donglai’s voice snapped him out of his reverie.
"Hm?"
"You’re about to pull my hair out."
"...My apologies. Bear with it for now, Brother Huang. I’ll make it up to you later."
Li Mo cleared his throat.
They proceeded unimpeded to the inner banquet, where Mingjiao clansmen and other formidable demons with fierce auras dominated the scene. Amidst the crowd, their group hardly stood out.
Murong Xiao’s eyes darted through the throng, but his parents remained elusive for now.
"This is Wu Mo, a clansman returned from beyond the Southern Border," Wu Dameng introduced to a few familiar faces.
"Oh? Our kin exist outside the Southern Border?"
"And the one beside him...?"
"Ah, that’s Brother Mo’s mount."
"Wha—such audacity?!"
The Mingjiao clansmen gasped, quickly offering flattering remarks before resuming their feasting and chatter.
"Have you all heard of that Qingluan Goddess?"
"Rumors say she not only possesses pure Qingluan bloodline but also carries the blood of the Divine Phoenix?"
"It must be true. Even the Xiangliu Young Clan Leader suffered a crushing defeat at her hands—lost one of his heads."
"What?! Even our clan’s Heavenly Mingjiao pales in comparison to the Xiangliu Young Clan Leader."
The idle Mingjiao at the table exchanged grim looks, their words tinged with concern for their clan’s future.
After all, whether Roc or Qingluan, avian clans naturally despised the Mingjiao.
"Brother Mo, what do you think?" Wu Dameng couldn’t resist asking.
"I don’t just think."
"???"
"With but a slight effort, she’d stand no chance against me."
Li Mo’s tone was utterly nonchalant.
"Brother Mo dares to challenge the Qingluan Goddess?!"
The Mingjiao present sucked in a collective breath, drying the humid air slightly.
This wasn’t just a challenge—he claimed she wouldn’t even resist!
Such was the courage of a dragon crossing the river! Whether confidence or arrogance remained to be seen...
"Hmph, ignorant fool." ×2
From a nearby seat, a gloomy youth exuding a faint stench—originally three-headed but now down to two—snorted in disdain.
His remaining heads marked his identity: the Xiangliu Clan.
Among calamity beasts, the Xiangliu’s reputation far outstripped the Mingjiao’s, and their individuals were far mightier.
Alas, Xiangliu reproduction was exceedingly rare, their lineage always singular. Had their numbers been greater, who ruled the Blackwater Marsh might still be contested.
"Make the Qingluan Goddess powerless to resist?"
"He has no idea how terrifying she truly is!"
The youth had two heads—one shrouded in gloom, the other burning with fury.
"Young Clan Leader, this is the territory of the Mingjiao Clan," the shrimp-headed attendant hastily advised. "Once he witnesses your true divine power, he’ll realize just how feeble he truly is."
Only then did the two-headed youth snort and relent.
At the same time, not far away, Murong Xiao’s gaze sharpened.
The elders of the Mingjiao Clan emerged amidst the congratulatory cheers of numerous aquatic beings. Among them were a man and a woman—the woman bore horns like a flood dragon, though her attire otherwise resembled that of a refined young lady from a noble human family.
Beside her stood a man with a long beard cascading down his chest, exuding an air of dignified elegance. His features bore a striking resemblance to Murong Xiao’s.
The Mingjiao elders took their seats on the stone platform below.
"......"
Li Mo felt an odd sense of déjà vu, as if watching judges take their places in a talent show.
Soon, he realized it wasn’t just his imagination.
The woman stepped lightly across the water, arriving at the center of the lake.
She declared in a clear voice, "We, the aquatic clans of Blackwater Marsh, have always stood united. By now, you must have guessed why we’ve gathered you all here today."
"That’s right—we aim to select five individuals of superior bloodline and strength to represent us at the Hanging Temple!"
"This isn’t just for the Mingjiao Clan, but for the glory of all Blackwater Marsh!"
"To restore our honor is our solemn duty!"
"This open selection is for everyone—even the humblest of spirits has a chance to bring pride to our kind!"
Whoosh—
The crowd of spirits erupted in excitement, their fervor palpable.
This meant any of them could earn a place at the Hanging Temple.
"......"
Li Mo felt his perception of the Mingjiao Clan being overturned.
Weren’t they supposed to be terrifying calamity beasts?
He’d heard Murong Xiao’s parents were pressured—he assumed it was due to the taboo of human-spirit romance, but it turned out they were just being nagged to have a second child.
He’d also heard the Mingjiao Clan’s internal struggles over selecting candidates for the Hanging Temple were complex, expecting some intricate web of schemes and rivalries.
But it was just... a talent show?!
Had he been projecting human cunning onto the spirits all along?
"Brother Li, this is actually quite normal," Wu Dameng chimed in.
"Oh?"
"Think about it. Spirits are innately stronger than humans. If they were also scheming, would they have been driven to the Southern Frontier?"
"......Fair point."
Li Mo nodded, though a question still lingered.
"Why call it an ‘open selection’?"
"Because if you follow this lake’s main current downstream, it leads straight to the Southern Sea. Didn’t you know, Brother Mo?"
Wu Dameng explained, casting a sympathetic look at Li Mo.
Poor Brother Mo, separated from his clan—he’s never even seen the sea.
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