Wu Zheng and Qing Rui treaded cautiously through the surreal landscape, their footsteps muffled by the soft earth beneath them. The sky above was unnaturally vibrant, with clouds drifting lazily in a way that seemed almost too perfect. A distant river shimmered under the sunlight, snaking its way through the idyllic scene, while towering mountains stood proudly, their snowy peaks piercing the blue sky.
But something was wrong.
Qing Rui glanced around uneasily, her hand brushing against the invisible walls that hemmed them in whenever they strayed too far from the path. Despite the open vista, it felt suffocating. "It doesn't make sense," she muttered, her voice barely more than a whisper. "We're still inside the mountain.
Wu Zheng remained silent, his brow furrowed in thought. He kept his eyes fixed ahead, but there was no mistaking the tension in his posture. His sharp gaze darted over the landscape, searching for clues, any sign that could explain the impossibility of their surroundings.
"This is all wrong," Qing Rui continued, her voice wavering. "There's no Qi… no energy flow. How can there even be an illusion if there's no Qi?"
Wu Zheng's silence stretched on, his thoughts racing. It's too perfect. Too real, but not real at all. The absence of spiritual Qi gnawed at him, but it wasn't just that—it was the stillness. The oppressive quiet. He finally spoke, his voice low and deliberate. " It's like we're being shown this deliberately.
Qing Rui shivered, wrapping her arms around herself as if to ward off the growing unease. "But shouldn't we feel something? Some kind of disturbance?" She stumbled slightly as the ground seemed to shift beneath her feet. "It's like it's too… clean."
Wu Zheng nodded but didn't reply. They continued forward, their pace slowing as the minutes stretched into an hour, the endless scenery unchanged. The mountains stood frozen, the river shimmered as if suspended in time. It was too much. Too quiet.
Suddenly, a massive door appeared in their path, standing alone, without walls or a frame. Just a door, looming, heavy, its presence jarring in the otherwise seamless illusion.
Wu Zheng stopped abruptly, his eyes narrowing as he stared at the door. He didn't speak for a long time, letting the unsettling feeling settle in his bones.
"What is it?" Qing Rui asked, her voice shaky. She stepped closer to him, instinctively reaching out to him for some reassurance.
"Wait," Wu Zheng said, his gaze still fixed on the door, but something flickered in his eyes. "Don't you think… this is strange?"
Qing Rui hesitated, then blinked, the realization slowly dawning on her. "The Zihar clan…" she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. "They were half an hour ahead of us. We've been walking straight for over an hour now."
Wu Zheng's expression tightened as her words hung in the air.
"We should've seen them by now!" Qing Rui's panic flared, her voice rising. "We're on the same path, and we didn't see this door until just now… How could that happen?" Her breathing grew faster, her hand clutching her cloak as fear tightened around her chest. "What if… what if they already know we're here?"
Wu Zheng's jaw clenched. He turned to face her, his voice calm but firm, cutting through her growing panic. "That's not the main problem." He let the weight of his words sink in before continuing, his tone steady. "Think about it. The mist—when we started, we could see it behind us. But halfway through, it disappeared. Now we're standing here, and we can see the mist again. But we didn't sense any Qi fluctuations."
Qing Rui froze, her face pale as her mind struggled to process what he was saying. Her heart pounded against her ribs, her thoughts spiraling. "You mean… the illusion changed? And we didn't even feel it?"
Wu Zheng nodded, his eyes narrowing as he considered their situation. "Exactly. That's what's worrying me."
Her throat tightened, and she fought to steady her breathing. "This… this doesn't make sense," she stammered, fear making her voice small. "How could something this powerful… not leave any trace?"
For a moment, Qing Rui's legs felt weak, her knees threatening to give way. She glanced back over her shoulder, half-expecting the Zihar clan to appear behind them. Her fingers tightened around the hem of her sleeve, her nails digging into the fabric.
"Should we… should we turn back?" she whispered, her eyes wide with fear.
Wu Zheng's answer was immediate, unwavering. "No." He moved toward the door without hesitation. "We go forward."
The cold, heavy door groaned as Wu Zheng pushed it open. Qing Rui followed, her steps shaky, her palms clammy with sweat. On the other side, a narrow passage stretched out before them, leading to a flight of stairs. But these weren't ordinary stairs. They were smooth, gleaming metal, their surface reflecting the dim light in distorted patterns that twisted with every step.
Qing Rui swallowed hard, her heart hammering in her chest. "This place… what kind of place is this?" Her voice barely carried in the thick air, her fear now an almost tangible weight pressing down on her.
Wu Zheng stepped forward, placing his foot cautiously on the first stair. As soon as his foot made contact, the entire staircase began to shift beneath them.
"What…?" he muttered under his breath, his eyes widening in surprise as the stairs moved of their own accord, carrying them upwards.