Chapter 267: Meeting the Qiu Clan Ancestor.
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.
He could sense the formidable presence that lingered within the manor.
When they finally reached the entrance, Qiu An stepped forward and knocked three times, each knock measured and respectful.
Then he folded his hands behind his back and waited patiently.
Several minutes passed.
Suddenly, the ancient wooden doors creaked and swung open on their own, without a single hand touching them.
Qiu An and the clan master did not flinch.
They merely exchanged a glance and entered the manor with light, careful steps.
Inside, the atmosphere changed entirely.
The wild, untamed feel of the outside world was gone. Everything here was immaculate, spotless, and filled with an aura of tranquility.
A willow tree grew at one side of the courtyard, its branches swaying as though in greeting, though there was no wind.
Mo Jian’s eyes swept over everything.
He maintained his calm demeanor, but inwardly, he noted how unusual the environment was.
"Ancestors," Qiu An called out, bowing deeply, "These juniors have come to request your help in a matter that concerns the future of our clan."
The clan master quickly followed suit, bowing low with great respect.
From deep inside the manor, a voice rang out carrying immense authority.
"Little An, what matter compels you to disturb our rest?" the voice asked slowly. "I hope this truly is important. If not... I won’t hesitate to spank the both of you."
Mo Jian raised an eyebrow. The speaker was clearly a woman, her tone sharp yet teasing.
Qiu An and the clan master, however, both shivered at the words. Almost unconsciously, their hands drifted behind them to rub their rear ends, as though recalling painful memories.
Mo Jian’s lips curled in amusement. So even these old men have been disciplined like naughty children before. Interesting.
Qiu An caught his glance and shot him a glare out of the corner of his eye, silently warning him not to laugh.
The voice came again, this time impatient. "Fools! What are you standing around for? Do you need another beating to set your brains straight?"
"Ah—yes, Ancestor!" Qiu An answered quickly, straightening his robe before striding forward in large steps.
The clan master followed immediately behind him, while Mo Jian walked with his usual unhurried calm.
They passed into a courtyard, where an elderly woman sat waiting.
She wore a violet robe embroidered with faded cloud patterns.
Her long white hair was tied neatly into a knot, and her face was heavily wrinkled, resembling the bark of a weathered tree.
Yet her eyes... her eyes were piercing, sharp as an eagle’s, and they locked on the three figures the moment they entered.
Her gaze lingered on Mo Jian.
"So, you’ve brought a boy with you," she muttered. Her voice was quiet, but it carried undeniable weight.
"He is not of our clan."
"Yes, Ancestor, you are correct. He is not one of us," the clan master quickly explained.
His tone was humble, almost hurried, as though afraid she might lash out at them for keeping secrets. "In fact, he is the reason we have come to seek your guidance."
Qiu An added swiftly, his words precise, careful not to irritate her.
"This is Mo Jian, the young master of the Dust Valley Sect and the founder of the Thousand Wealth Chamber."
Mo Jian cupped his fists and bowed politely. "This junior pays his respects."
The old woman did not immediately reply. Her expression remained cold, unreadable.
Qiu An’s palms grew damp with sweat, but he quickly reached into his spatial pouch. "Ancestor, please take a look at this."
He presented a folded newspaper, his hands trembling slightly as he passed it over.
Despite having visited the ancestor many times before, he had never felt pressure as suffocating as he did at this moment.
The old woman finally shifted her gaze, lowering it to the paper in her hands.
Silence fell over the courtyard.
Everyone held their breath, as though even breathing too loudly would invite disaster.
Only Mo Jian remained composed, his eyes calmly observing the old woman.
He noticed, however, the subtle twitch of her brow as she looked at the life-like images and clean, bold characters.
Time seemed to stretch.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the ancestor spoke.
"Where did you obtain such a treasure?" Her voice had changed, now tinged with curiosity.
She raised her sharp gaze to Qiu An.
"Ancestor," Qiu An said hurriedly, "This was not obtained. It was created. This young man’s chamber is the one behind it. I have already confirmed it through my daughter’s report."
He then quickly recounted everything he knew about Mo Jian, the Dust Valley Sect, and the rapid spread of the newspaper in the southern region.
The ancestor listened in silence, her expression betraying nothing.
When Qiu An finished, she turned her penetrating gaze upon Mo Jian.
"Is this true?" she asked.
Mo Jian inclined his head slightly. "Yes, Senior. What you see is but the surface of what we can achieve."
Then, without hesitation, he reached into his spatial pouch and produced a small jade box. With both hands, he presented it respectfully.
"Senior, please accept this humble gift from this junior."
"Hmm?"
Qiu An and the clan master stiffened, their eyes widening.
Neither of them had expected Mo Jian to bring a gift, let alone offer it so boldly.
Does he even know what our ancestor likes? both thought in alarm.
The old woman studied him for a moment. Then, for the first time, a faint smile tugged at her lips.
"Such an understanding junior," she murmured.
She accepted the jade box and slowly opened it.
The moment the lid lifted, a rich fragrance spread through the air.
Inside were carefully preserved spirit leaves, their dark green hue glowing faintly under the moonlight.
"Hmm?"
Even without tasting them, everyone present could sense they were extraordinary.
The old woman snapped the box shut, her eyes glimmering with delight.
"Hahaha! What a pleasing young man!" she said, her laughter echoing warmly.
She gestured for him. "Come, come, sit beside me."
Then her smile vanished as she turned to glare at Qiu An and the clan master.
"What are you two standing around for? Get lost!"
With a casual wave of her hand, an invisible force swept them up and flung them out of the courtyard.