Mo Han reached faster than others.
The instant he crossed the threshold, the world shifted — light bent, sound warped, and for a heartbeat, the feeling of weightlessness seized his senses. Then, with a low hum, the new world came into focus.
He stood beneath towering trees, their trunks wide enough to shelter carriages. The air was rich with vitality — heavy, warm, and thick with the fragrance of herbs, flowers, and damp soil. The spiritual energy here was pure and dense, forming visible threads that swirled lazily through the forest like mist. Every breath carried the taste of medicine and power.
All around him, the forest buzzed with noise.
Disciples were everywhere — darting between trees, cutting vines, or kneeling beside glowing herbs that pulsed like living jewels. A few groups fought off minor beasts, their roars echoing through the thick foliage.
"Spirit lotus here!" someone shouted in the distance. "Two-leafed, fully matured!"
