Three thousand Falling Stars intertwine and dance up and down, a starlit waterfall spanning tens of thousands of meters crosses the entire sky, weighty yet silent in its grandeur, and silent yet deep in its mystery.
Such a scene, a mere glimpse by a mortal would spell the end for their soul.
"It seems the Celestial Gate is no longer defendable."
A heavy voice full of sin resounded in the void, even the stars trembled unceasingly because of the mere sound.
There was a shadow flickering within the starlit waterfall; upon closer inspection, it was a young man in white garments, heavily imbued with scholarly air, with fine features, supporting the starry sky above with one hand, standing upon the pitch-black river with his feet, as if an eternal presence, timelessly existing in this place.
"So what? Whether defendable or not, what difference does it make?"
The "Scholar" spoke with indifference, showing no expression or emotion like a cold jade.
