This was a pale green world.
That shade of green flowed like a gentle stream on a spring day, yet also resembled distant mountains after rain—translucent and faint, filled with an ethereal purity.
Looking up, the vast, clear sky held no sun or moon, nor any starlight. Only a boundless, radiant clarity suffused the six directions. It was neither as dazzling and fierce as the blazing sun, impossible for living beings to gaze upon, nor as pristine and chilly as moonlight, so still and silent.
It was vast as flowing water, yet clear and pure as glass, its light swirling through myriad forms as it spread.
Beneath the green vault of heaven, a boundless sea of clouds surged.
Cloud-covered peaks rose in rugged ranks, like mountain ranges rolling in waves. They concealed countless Immortal Palaces, winding far into the distance. Jade trees and pearl towers dotted the view; every inch was flawless, without a single imperfection.
The entire world was perfect and tranquil, like a painting brought to the height of perfection, yet brimming with immortal vitality and the aura of eternity.
This was Qing Quan Realm Heaven!
A hazy glow drifted across the endless sea of clouds.
Among several especially massive, towering cloud-wreathed peaks, palaces lay hidden, and no jade trees could be seen. Amid the white expanse of clouds, a lone figure in a straw rain cape and bamboo hat sat cross-legged atop the clouds.
Immortal and ethereal, with a far-reaching presence, the figure's hand emerged from a wide sleeve. Its skin was pale blue-white, and it had seven fingers. Beneath the bamboo hat, fangs gleamed like blades.
He sat motionless, gazing quietly at a small pond several yards across before him.
Blue mist curled through the air, as though endless mountain ridges stretched away, grand and imposing.