In the grand hall sat four middle-aged individuals, two men and two women, cross-legged on the carpet in the center.
The immaculate white carpet was thick and soft, and they sat at the four corners, their expressions solemn and serene.
In the center of the carpet was an easel, with a scroll lying horizontally on it.
The scroll was two meters long, emitting a deep luster and permeating an ancient feel.
Chu Zhiyuan's gaze fell upon the scroll, causing him to involuntarily frown.
Super Sense couldn't penetrate it.
An invisible force enveloped the scroll, as if shrouded in a thick mist, vague and unreal.
It seemed like a scroll, yet not a scroll, a vast outline looming faintly.
This outline appeared to be a door.
He felt a sudden sense of familiarity, as if he had encountered this power before.
He closed his eyes, searching through his mind.
With a photographic memory, once seen, a sense of familiarity returns upon seeing it again.
