Feng Miao Jun’s words interrupted Yun Ya’s thoughts. He shrugged: “More or less.”

“Then I must see it even more,” she tilted her head slightly, her eyes full of willfulness. “Mountains of corpses and seas of blood—I’ve seen countless such scenes.” Her experiences in life were already beyond what few people in this world could match.

In her eyes, he saw his reflection and smiled: “Very well, you’re asking for this yourself. Hold me tight.”

Her face reddened slightly, but she still extended her snow-white arms to embrace his neck. What did Yun Ya mean by those words?

He was more straightforward, picking her up in one motion. His toes lightly touched a large rock, and he leaped into the lake with her!

Just as the “splash” sound reached their ears, the characteristic coldness of lake water enveloped their bodies.

Feng Miao Jun stared with wide eyes and found that the man above was also staring at her intently. His peach blossom eyes appeared even more misty due to the backlighting, yet she couldn’t discern his expression.

At that moment, the world seemed so lonely, as if only the two of them remained.

Didn’t this resemble a suicide pact by drowning? Feng Miao Jun even had a strange feeling that quietly finishing the second half of life like this might not be so bad.

Of course, this absurd thought only flashed by, so quickly that even she paid it no mind.

But then a vermilion hue filled her vision, and the lake water retreated from around them. From below came sounds:

“Bang! Bang! Bang!”

Like knocking on a door, urgent and heavy, carrying a murderous aura.

Had they already transitioned to Yun Ya’s dream?

Feng Miao Jun’s pupils quickly focused, and she realized she was looking at a ceiling—broad and majestic. The caisson ceiling in the center had the most intricate patterns she had ever seen. The outermost design was the Eight Trigrams, while inside were alternating perfect circles and squares, possessing the geometric beauty of square regulations and circular perfection. Just by visual estimation, she could determine that this caisson ceiling reached a height of at least five zhang (sixteen meters). Looking up from below, it had a layered, concave structure. The main colors of the carvings and engravings were gold, blue, cyan, and red—the gold was simply gold, but the other colors were inlaid with corresponding precious gems—at least a hundred thousand gems, the epitome of luxurious splendor.

Just this caisson ceiling alone was of inestimable value, not to mention the pattern at its center—

Though abstractly drawn, Feng Miao Jun immediately recognized it as a small forked tree. This time, leaves adorned the branches, made of translucent emeralds.

Moreover, this pattern was already very familiar to her.

Feng Miao Jun steadied herself by pressing on Yun Ya’s shoulder as she stood up, only to discover that they were standing on a crossbeam of the ceiling. The beam was at least fifteen zhang (nearly fifty meters) from the ground.

In that case, this palace where they currently found themselves was truly… magnificent!

She took a light breath. Certainly, compared to this, even the main hall of the New Xia royal palace in Wu Se’er City fell far short.

“Where is this?” There was a bustling crowd below, countless people running quickly, but no one inclined to look upward. Large groups of people were blocked at the entrance of the hall—which trembled under external impacts as if it would be breached the next moment.

It seemed there was also an army outside, attacking the gates, trying to break in.

Feng Miao Jun frowned: “What place is this?” From the moment she saw the mark in the center of the caisson, she knew this place wasn’t somewhere Yun Ya had imagined out of thin air.

“A divine temple,” he pointed at the deity statue below. “That is the statue of the Boundary God worshipped here.”

Feng Miao Jun was startled and immediately lowered her head to observe.

The so-called Boundary God had the appearance of a middle-aged man with an expressionless face. His bulging muscles would make even Miao Feng Xian somewhat inferior by comparison. He was leaning against a large rock, seemingly resting with closed eyes. The ground had deep furrows rolled out by the rock, and on both sides of these furrows were small houses—

Truly small houses, placed beside the human figure and the large rock, looked like miniature landscapes. The man would crush them to bits with just one lift of his leg.

What content was this scene trying to convey? Feng Miao Jun wasn’t certain. Was it to contrast the enormous size of the Boundary God, making earthly houses appear like toys before him? Judging from the difference in scale, if the houses were the same size as the current dwellings of common people, then the Boundary God’s true height should be… over sixty zhang (more than two hundred and ten meters).

That would truly be a sky-reaching giant.

In her original world, Feng Miao Jun might have considered this artistic exaggeration. But on this continent, the appearance and proportions of all deity statues were strictly supervised by special personnel from the Hao Li Empire—death to those who privately made deity statues, an iron law! Not to mention such a large statue displayed in such a magnificent hall.

So, the Boundary God might truly have been that enormous.

She had recently walked around Spiral Float Island, and Fu Ling Chuan had even brought back the entire island. Thus, such colossal creatures did indeed exist in the world. Compared to that giant sea snail, the Boundary God’s size wasn’t exaggerated.

She remembered Yun Ya mentioning before that the Boundary God was a deity guarding a realm but had long since vanished without a trace. Why was his statue still preserved in this great hall?

She turned to stare at Yun Ya, enunciating each word: “Where exactly are we? There is no such magnificent hall in the present world, nor would there be such a statue!”

“You’re wrong,” once she was steady, Yun Ya slowly folded his arms. “They still exist, just… not in the form you see now.”

Feng Miao Jun faintly heard what seemed like screams coming from outside. She tilted her head to look through the high windows of the hall and was astonished to see a world of blood and fire outside.

That color, she was too familiar with it.

War.

This place was at war. Outside, many buildings were already engulfed in raging fires. Civilians were running and shouting, while soldiers from both sides were killing fiercely, though the outcome seemed nearly decided.

She had never seen the attire of all the people inside and outside the hall, including the specifications of the army’s armor and weapons.

“But after the Hao Li Empire, no country ever built temples again,” she slowly sat down. “Yun Ya, is this Ying Shui City?”

“Yes,” his voice drifted from behind, without hesitation this time.

She turned back in shock. Ying Shui City indeed still existed on the continent, even within New Xia’s borders, though now it had become an abandoned capital. The scene before her eyes must be from many, many years ago.

She felt it incredible: “Is this a scene you’ve imagined, or did you experience it?”

“It’s merely my imagination,” Yun Ya’s expression was calm. “I never personally experienced the battle when the temple was breached, but I’ve read many complete accounts and often dream of it. You also know—” he said leisurely, “—dreams don’t always reflect reality; they mostly reveal your heart’s desires.”

Dreams are often infused with various elements by the dreamer, making them the least objective world. She murmured: “This is too realistic.”