Qin Tian's virtual figure slowly moved along a narrow corridor, the ground beneath him made of unknown material, silent underfoot. Only the gray mist around him flowed gently with his movement, as if guiding the direction.
After advancing about several hundred meters, the gray fog suddenly dispersed, revealing a grand and ancient door ahead—its panels carved with intricate mythological patterns, including Western deities and Eastern immortals and Buddhas, the dark golden sheen flowing between the patterns, exuding a sense of weight that transcends time and space.
Qin Tian steadied himself and gently pushed the door open with his hand.
"Creak—"
The light sound of the door hinges echoed in the emptiness, and the scene behind the door suddenly opened up.
A magnificent hall came into view, its high dome embedded with countless light spots like stars, casting a soft yet dignified glow.
