Zhang Yu sensed for a moment, then withdrew his gaze and looked down again. He saw all manner of hair and fish-scale-like things drifting in the golden river before him, along with a strange fragrance.
As if they could sense his arrival as well, the hair and scales gathered of their own accord into a raft, seeming to intend to ferry him across.
He had initially planned to ignore it as he had before, but his heart stirred slightly. He had a feeling that stepping aboard now would be best.
He did not dwell on it. A cultivator's senses were mysterious and unfathomable; sometimes, it was better to follow them. So he gathered his aura and stepped onto it. The raft sank slightly, then carried him toward the opposite bank.
After drifting to the far shore, he stepped onto the level ground and followed a flight of stairs until he arrived before the temple. At this moment, the sensation of divinity grew even stronger.
He adjusted his breath briefly before entering the hall. It was a splendid, brightly lit palace, its soft radiance reaching every corner. The floor was covered in intricate yet orderly colored patterns spreading outward in spirals, while murals of all kinds of strange creatures adorned the surrounding walls.
Upon the divine throne sat a man wearing a tall slanted hat and a long robe woven from silver threads. He held a stone tablet in his hand and seemed to be intently tracing something upon it. Countless other stone tablets floated in the air around him, circling him as they turned.
What this man displayed was not some outward manifestation of divinity. His body itself looked like this. He was a deity possessed of flesh, yet rather than seeming frail, he appeared more vivid and complete than