What made an immortal palace lay neither in lofty mountains nor deep waters, neither in splendid houses nor beautiful dwellings, nor in mysteries upon mysteries.
Amid the swirling mist, only a courtyard was faintly visible. Within it stood a small building open to the breeze on all four sides, and three houses arranged in a triangle. Beside the small building was a shallow pond, with a rockery beside it. Along the pebble path by the rockery grew three or five unidentified spirit plants, and farther in stood a pavilion.
It could hardly be called exquisite. Even looking down from the neighboring mountaintop, one could see little magnificent scenery.
Yet immortal mist wreathed it, lending it a lingering air of immortality.
It inspired a sense of vastness and breadth, of grandeur and magnificence, and thus was called a "palace."
That was how it appeared to ordinary cultivators, but not what he saw.
All he saw was an "abyss" woven entirely from black and white, countless times more complex than the rules within the Little Cang Realm!
An immense quantity of rules constantly flowed in and out of this abyss toward its surroundings.
It was a place that made even his Primordial Spirit tremble.
Only after a long while did he finally withdraw his gaze and let out a long breath.
He tested his surroundings. Here, he could no longer leave the ground. Like the other cultivators, he was constrained by the rules of this place.
He felt a little regretful.
Then, shifting his gaze slightly, he discovered that entering this immortal palace required descending more than a hundred stone steps from the mountaintop.
At this moment, those descending steps and the path leading to the courtyard gate were already packed with cultivators.
Shoulder rubbed against shoulder, leaving scarcely room to plant