Beyond the enormous bronze doors lay not the treasure hall piled with rare wonders Han Li had imagined, but a boundless "sea of stars."
Solid streams of silver light lay beneath his feet, like a road paved from a river of stars, winding into unknown depths. On either side and overhead, countless stars slowly revolved, flickering in and out of view. The nearest seemed within arm's reach, while the farthest vanished into profound darkness. There were no walls here, no vaulted ceiling, only an endless starry expanse and a vast, ancient rhythm of spacetime flowing slowly through it, bringing tranquility even to his soul.
Stellar power was so dense that it had condensed into tangible mist, wreathing the "star road." With every breath, Han Li felt incomparably pure stellar essence seep into every limb and bone, nourishing his parched, fractured meridians. His nascent soul, poised on the brink of collapse, was like drought-stricken land receiving sweet rain, greedily drawing in that pure energy. The cracks across its surface spread noticeably more slowly.
Yet this stellar power was too immense and pure. With his strength exhausted like oil in a dying lamp and his meridians damaged, he dared not absorb it freely. He could only guide tiny strands into himself and slowly refine them, afraid that his weakened body could not bear such nourishment and would instead suffer an energy rampage.
He staggered along the "star road." It seemed endless, yet each step also seemed to carry him a thousand miles. The stars around him shifted, and spacetime displayed a peculiar elasticity here. Perhaps he had walked only a hundred paces; perhaps a hundred years had passed. His perception of time grew blurred.
At last, at the end of the "star road," a "solitary island" appeared, suspended in the center of