The Witch Temple before her left Sang Que somewhat astonished.
She had just come from the Deserted Forest; all the way, there was not a hint of vitality, the earth cracked, the trees withered, ashes scattered freely, and there were always whispers around, unnerving her.
But this Witch Temple seemed to be a dreamlike Taoyuan, untouched by decay, with green bricks and white walls, small windows looking outward.
Grass was lush beneath the walls, peach blossoms filled the trees in the courtyard, fragrance pervaded the air.
The entire Witch Temple was cloaked in a layer of soft light, like the imagined abode of immortals, starkly contrasting the deathly silence outside, delivering a strong impact to Sang Que.
She had been outside for fifteen minutes and now could only go in to evade the eerie mist.
Sang Que pushed open the door and walked in, passing through the outer small courtyard, reaching the temple hall inside where the Divine Statue was worshipped.
