Early morning I entered the ancient temple,
The rising sun shines on the quiet woods.
A winding path leads to a secluded place,
Zen rooms hidden deep among flowers and trees.
The mountain light pleases the nature of birds,
The deep pool stirs the hearts of men.
All sounds are hushed and silent here,
Only the voices of a hundred flowers remain.
A seamless, silvery-white skyship glided silently across the horizon.
Zhou Chen lay half-reclined on a plush, spacious bed, admiring the magnificent scenery outside.
Chapter 189