As Han Yu observed the place he sensed something.
Each flower seemed perfectly cultivated and each rose radiated a faint energy. Han Yu did not reach out to touch them. He simply observed.
'Certainly her tastes,' he thought.
There was something almost obsessive about it. The density, the precision, the sheer variety. It was not merely decoration. It was an extension of identity. A domain shaped by preference.
A reflection of its master.
Han Yu continued forward, his footsteps quiet against the soft ground. The deeper he went, the more he became aware of the complex nature of the environment. This was not just a forest. There were arrays woven into the very soil, hidden beneath the roots and petals, forming an intricate network that he could not fully decipher.
He could feel them.
But he could not understand them.
And that made them dangerous.
