The young man stepped inside and pressed the floor button.
With the buzzing roar of the motor, the elevator swiftly descended.
The numbers on the display started dropping one by one from the 70th floor.
Ding.
Until it stopped between the 18th and 19th floors.
The elevator doors unexpectedly opened automatically, revealing a passage flickering with a hazy light.
A strange, icy breath spread into the elevator.
It seemed as if the passage led to some unknown mysterious realm.
The young man did not hesitate for a moment; with a flicker of his figure, he stepped into it.
The elevator doors slowly closed behind him, leaving no trace as if they had never opened.
All around was a sea of gray.
It felt like stepping away from the modern city into a completely different world.
Where the eye could see was all mist, drifting in thin streams, obstructing the view and instilling a chill in the heart.
The ground was densely lit with countless candles.
The pea-sized flames flickered with the wind, glowing intermittently like ghostly fires dancing in the dark night.
The dim yellow light penetrated through layers of mist, barely illuminating this secluded space.
Looking up, there stood a towering ancient tree rising from the mist.
Its trunk was unimaginably thick, requiring dozens of people to stretch out their arms to surround it.
The dark brown bark was like ancient bronze eroded by a century of wind and rain, with ravines crossing each other, each grain etched with the vicissitudes and mysteries of time, and secrets deeply buried within.
The branches were like giant pythons winding, stretching arbitrarily in all directions.
In the candlelight, the lush branches cast eerie shadows on the ground,
like monsters lurking in the dark, baring their fangs and glaring at the intruder.
The young man slowed his steps, letting his gaze slowly sweep over the scene before him.
Here, apart from him, there were indeed other living beings.
Around the towering ancient tree, several elders sat cross-legged.
They appeared withered, eyes tightly closed, immersed in Sitting Meditation.
As if merged with the mysterious space, they exuded a sense of tranquility and depth accumulated after ages.
Like old sandalwood, spreading languidly, calming the hearts of those who approached.
Behind them, rows of ancestral tablets were neatly arranged.
The tablets were all made of ebony, with a heavy and simple texture.
The central tablet was the tallest, inscribed with "The Sacred Tablet of Lu Ancestral Spirit Qiwen."
The strokes were firm and powerful, outlined in gold lacquer, still glimmering in the dim light, signifying the venerated status of the ancestors.
Beneath it, on both sides, were numerous tablets arranged in sequence.
Some inscribed with "Lu Gong Spirit Tablet Certain Name," others with "Lady Lu Bi Certain Madam’s Position," all names of the Lu Family ancestors throughout the ages.
They once, in various eras, clad in armor, wielded swords across the Martial World, charging through the chaos of war, expanding territory for the family, earning prestige, making the Lu name renowned everywhere;
Or, deep in the courtyard, delicately threading needles, gracefully managing the household, nurturing and extending the family’s lineage with tenderness and resilience, allowing the bloodline to flourish and grow.
Despite the passage of time seeking to blur past memories, it could not conceal the profound legacy contained in each generation’s heritage.
The young man’s gaze swept slowly over the tablets, revealing complex emotions in his eyes.
There was reverence, remembrance, and a hint of expectation for himself.
Every time he came here, he was deeply moved by the profound family legacy.
As if traversing time and space, facing the spirits of his ancestors, listening to their earnest teachings from the depths of history.
Who could have imagined, located in the bustling city center, within a skyscraper, there would exist such a hidden and solemn family shrine.
This realm was completely isolated from the noise and prosperity of the outside world, guarding the family’s most pure roots.
"Yongquan."
A man in a black robe, sitting cross-legged, suddenly opened his eyes and looked at the young man who had entered.
"Second Uncle."
The young man slightly bowed in response.
His identity was none other than the chairman of the Jinlu Group in the East Capital, the eldest son of the Lu Family’s current generation, Lu Yongquan.