This was a sealed-off realm of time and space.
It existed nowhere in The Present World, yet it could exist anywhere in The Present World.
It was a phantom of time and space, a hall of illusions, and also a place that truly existed.
People sought it, drew close to it, yet could never truly possess it.
Like that blazing sun at heaven's edge—merely a projection from infinitely far away. The more fiercely it burned, the more illusory it became.
There were mountains here, soaring ten thousand fathoms high.
Stone steps wound upward, a perilous stairway to heaven.
Someone was climbing toward the sky.
He wore a freshly washed long robe and an utterly ordinary bamboo hat. Heavenly Wind pressed the broad robes tightly against his body, making him look somewhat gaunt and frail.
Yet his steps were steady. He kept his eyes lowered to watch the path—apart from that first glance at the mountain's foot, when he looked toward the utmost height, he never raised his head again throughout the climb.
He possessed an almost clumsy certainty.
As though, so long as he kept his head down and walked onward, he could reach the end of the heavens.
Heavenly Wind would interfere. Packs of wild dogs would bark madly. There would always be those setting up barriers and checkpoints, sparrows with unruly tongues, black hearts and black livers... These things everyone knew seemed not to exist in his mind.
Head lowered, he walked each step well.
"This is a nation the world cannot abide."
"It perishes at any moment, and is reborn at any moment."
A voice sounded from halfway up the mountain, distant and detached, as though it came from beyond the world, swaying vaguely without ever settling anywhere real.
"Time here is exceedingly meticulous. Even aging and