Deep within the ancestral borders of the Shen Clan Domain.
Floating islands of ancient, moss-covered white jade hovered silently above mountain peaks that pierced the upper stratosphere, anchored to the tectonic plates only by heavy, glowing chains of spatial arrays.
On one of these floating sanctuaries, surrounded by a dense orchard of night-blooming spiritual weeping willows whose silver leaves softly hummed a melody of absolute stillness, sat a small pavilion.
Inside this pavilion, Ling Luochen, Ning Xueli, and Feng Yanmei sat on intricately carved stools of profound polar ice, slowly drinking cups of premium Nine-Transformation Snow Lotus Tea.
The steam rising from the liquid didn't disperse; it curled in the air, forming intricate geometric runes before dissolving into pure, unadulterated spiritual energy that saturated their pristine dantians.
