The Perils of the Demonic Path

Lian Yue arrived at Taixu Temple one evening.

She climbed the long stone staircase, step by step. Above the imposing stone gate, the three vigorous, ancient characters of "Taixu Temple" carried the weight of history. The pines and cypresses of Shangqing Peak were lush, its cliffs rugged. Framed by the temple's archway, the scene looked like a sacred haven where immortals might cultivate. The sun had already passed over the mountain, leaving only its golden afterglow to fall across the slopes.

Many years later, Lian Yue could no longer remember how she had felt when facing this new environment. But she still often dreamed of that day, and of the brilliant golden light streaming through the ancient pines above Taixu Temple.