At the end of the Spring Corridor, the passage gradually widened.
The pale light around them began to take on a faint yellow tint, while abstract reliefs slowly emerged on the walls to either side. They seemed to depict scenes of ancient people hunting monsters, every stroke steeped in a primitive, savage air.
Through certain features of the statues—such as fangs, bat wings, exaggerated skulls, charcoal droppings, and so on—Zheng Qing could vaguely identify those monsters.
But only vaguely.
He had no way of knowing the hunters' true identities.
The hunters in the murals all looked more or less alike: one head, two arms, and two legs. The difference was that some were enormous, as large as small mountains, yet looked nothing like giants. Most of the hunters were very small, clustered around the larger figures, reminding Zheng Qing for no reason of the little people clinging to the Buddha's seat in temples.
After crossing an arched pass decorated with crimson drapes and two Laixian Fires alongside Jiang Yu, he officially arrived at the main venue of tonight's ball.
It was an exceptionally spacious hall, yet it lacked much of the luxury Zheng Qing had imagined. Instead, it carried an air of simplicity and antiquity.
Slender threads of light drifted across the ceiling, giving off hazy yet clear starlight, like flying dragons roaming the distant heavens. Flower buds shaped like long umbrellas hung suspended from above. Whenever guests passed beneath them, the buds gently bloomed like umbrellas, revealing clusters of bright flame curled within their overlapping petals and scattering light along the way.
On one side of the venue stood a long buffet table laden with all kinds of dishes for the evening banquet. Around it were scattered little tables of uneven sizes, where guests could rest and eat.
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