The crevice was wider than expected. Beyond an entrance that could barely fit two people abreast lay a winding passage descending underground.
Unknown phosphorescent moss had been embedded in the walls, its faint green glow spreading beneath their feet and stretching everyone's shadows long and short.
When their fingertips brushed the rock walls, they could feel fine, dense patterns, mixed with the damp, earthy scent of soil and the faintest trace of residual spiritual power—clear evidence that this place had been maintained by someone year-round.
The younger members of the Dragon Clan followed closely behind, keeping even their breathing light. Only the green radiance of the moss swayed gently within their pupils.
After walking for roughly the time it took to burn half an incense stick, a glimmer of light suddenly appeared ahead.
Qin He withdrew his barrier and stepped lightly out of the passage, then froze where he stood.
Before them lay a small basin hidden deep within the gorge. Multicolored starlight spilled through a gap at the top of the ravine, spreading like torn ribbons of silk and coating the entire land in flowing splendor.
There was neither sun nor moon here, only stars and Aurora. It was truly strange.
Threads of purple light coiled around the wheat ears, tinting their golden awns with a pale violet halo.
Crimson streams of light swept across the earth, leaving fleeting traces of warmth upon the soil.
At the center of the basin was a neat wheat field. The full, heavy ears bent their stalks low, every grain having absorbed its fill of starlight. Whenever they swayed gently in the night breeze, they glimmered with scattered gold, like crushed diamonds strewn across the ground.
Beside the haystacks, several men in rough short tunics sat cross-legged, knees bent, hands forming a simple