At the sharp corner where the river makes a right angle, Li Fan caught sight of a seven-story Daoist tower at first glance. It was adorned with brown tiles and black floors, with flying eaves and arches. The railings were aglow with countless banners, while alcoves were draped with thousands of silver bells.
Atop the tower, there was an enormous night pearl, glowing with an azure light, suffused with Daoist energy. From afar, it resembled a thirty-zhang iron mace, as if plunged upside down from the clouds into the mortal realm, seemingly cleaving the great river in half with brute force.
