When Han Yu opened his eyes again, he found himself in an unfamiliar place.
In front of him was a staircase made of white jade, behind him, a large terrace, and beneath the terrace—nothing at all!
Out of curiosity, Han Yu went to the edge of the terrace and looked down, and for a moment, he was stunned by the scene before him.
Mists and cloud seas, dreamlike and illusory.
Graceful and ethereal, like a celestial realm.
This is in the sky!
In a daze, Han Yu found himself at a loss for words, unable to describe the absurdity he felt inside.
"Don't make a fuss."
The old Daoist grinned as he patted Han Yu's shoulder. Living in the sky, what's the big deal about that?
Han Yu, however, was like a country bumpkin, unable to regain his composure for a long time, until Mu Zili intervened. A chilling sensation, like a basin of cold water, drenched him, and he realized there were two people behind him waiting for him all along.
"Ah... this..."
