(Merging two into one, missing words will be counted as taking leave to sort out the state, a chapter will be added on Wednesday)
Ten thousand miles underground, within the illusionary canopy formed by interwoven arrays.
The great sun blazes, the stars of the heavens twinkle, storms swirl,
then in the midst of the sky.
It seems there is a river, a river apparently confined within a thousand-mile canopy, yet within sight, infinitely broad and infinitely long.
The river is composed of countless threads, but the appearance of the threads is not clear. Upstream of the river, there seems to be palaces,
and in the blurred, illusionary great river, there is a Profound Yellow Waterfall surging upwards, far above the river, supporting a palace—the Eight Sceneries Palace.
Most people do not know what river this is.
But some do know.
"Time, the years, history...."
Li Xiuyuan murmured, with the purest, uncontrollable dread on his face.
Beside him, Cui Linglong softly asked:
