The air was fresh, the sunlight brilliant—and of course, so was the moonlight.
This was a small space no more than ten miles across. A ring of low mountains surrounded it, streams gurgling down from the slopes; there was even a waterfall and a deep pool. High overhead hung a crimson sun and a cyan moon. Sun and moon stood together in the sky, red light and cyan light falling distinctly from above, crisp and clear, without the slightest muddle or mingling.
Lush green grass carpeted the ground, and flowers bloomed in profusion. At least several thousand strange and exotic varieties of flowers had been planted here, with only three to five of each kind. Yet regardless of what flower they were, regardless of what season they were meant to bloom in, every blossom was now flowering to its heart's content, recklessly releasing its wild vitality.
Fragrance drifted through the air, while crisp birdsong came from afar. On several large trees in the distance, dense clusters of emerald-green nests the size of fists could be vaguely seen. Tiny birds, entirely green and shaped like hummingbirds, darted in and out of the nests at astonishing speeds. From time to time, they chirped merrily, their clear calls like a fresh spring washing over the heart, leaving one with the strange sensation that even the soul had been cleansed.
Lin Qi looked behind him. They stood at the edge of this space, and behind them surged a layer of gray mist, rolling and whirling like raging waves of an angry sea. Lin Qi narrowed his eyes. He had seen this gray mist layer, seemingly pieced together from countless vortices, in Osmanthus Tree and the others' memories. It was the edge of a universe—the characteristic sight of the barrier separating that universe from the