"This is the place. Fellow Daoists, please come in." The Fire Dragon Boy gave the two of them a smile, then swaggered forward.
As he approached the pavilion's entrance, Han Li casually glanced inside and was momentarily stunned.
The interior looked exactly like an ordinary tavern. Not only was it packed with guests eating and drinking, but several waiters were shuttling between tables carrying platters of fine dishes and premium wines, the clink of cups rising in a steady stream.
Beside the pavilion's entrance hung a wooden sign roughly a foot in size, bearing bold black characters that read: "This establishment has been privately reserved. Outsiders are not permitted to enter."
"That old fox Tian Jing, pulling this illusion trick again — honestly!" The Fire Dragon Boy muttered a few words under his breath but paid the whole scene no mind whatsoever, striding straight inside.
At his words, Han Li's mind stirred. He swept his spiritual sense lightly through the interior, and a peculiar expression crossed his face. Without the slightest hesitation, he followed on the Fire Dragon Boy's heels.
The instant the three of them crossed the threshold, the light before them dimmed. The figures of guests, waiters, and everyone else inside the pavilion dissolved like soap bubbles into nothing, and the clamor cut off abruptly.
Han Li glanced around. The space was completely empty, wreathed on all sides in a faint gray mist. In the center sat a single worn wooden table, upon which rested a bronze oil lamp. Behind the lamp sat a kindly-faced Daoist in gray robes, roughly fifty or sixty years of age, smiling warmly at the three newcomers.
"I didn't expect Brother Lan to come in person, let alone bring along Fellow Daoist Lu. And this Fellow Daoist in the green robe — my eyesight is poor, but I don't believe we've met before. Could you be a newly ascended Nascent Soul fellow?" The gray-robed Daoist smiled and greeted the three with genuine warmth, ensuring none of them felt slighted. His amiability was the sort that naturally inspired a degree of goodwill.
"Brother Tian Jing, I've brought two uninvited guests. You won't turn us away, will you?" The Fire Dragon Boy's small face wore a seemingly innocent smile, but his tone was decidedly aged and worldly.
"Not at all! All fellow cultivators are welcome here. Besides, Fellow Daoist Lu and I are old acquaintances. It's only this one here…" The old Daoist spoke with a laugh, his gaze lingering on Han Li for an extra moment.
"I am Han Li of the Moving Cloud Sect. I have only recently advanced to this stage, and I hope Real Master Tian Jing will offer me his guidance in the future." Han Li stepped half a pace forward and clasped his fists in salute.
"So you're Fellow Daoist Lu's sect-brother! My, my — you look quite young for your age. Your future is sure to be boundless." Real Master Tian Jing beamed, offering his praise with characteristic affability.
"Enough, old friend. The others should be mostly here by now. The three of us should head up and take a look." The Fire Dragon Boy was clearly on very close terms with Real Master Tian Jing and spoke without any pretense.
"Heh! Brother Lan, always so impatient. About seventy or eighty percent have arrived. Some of the more eager ones have probably already started trading up there. Here are two Wuling Masks — take them, fellow Daoists. Brother Lan, do you need one?" After addressing the Fire Dragon Boy specifically, Real Master Tian Jing turned both hands over, and two flashes of white light passed, each producing a mask carved from dark wood, faintly inscribed with rune patterns — clearly no ordinary objects.
"Hmph! It's not as if you don't know — who doesn't recognize my figure? What good would an illusion do to disguise my shape? Who could it possibly fool?" At this, the Fire Dragon Boy puffed out both cheeks, looking thoroughly disgruntled.
"Fair enough. Fellow Daoists, please go on up. I'll join you shortly." Real Master Tian Jing smiled, unbothered, and tossed the masks to Han Li and Lu Luo. At the same time, he flicked a white spell seal into the mist behind him.
The mist immediately receded, revealing a stone staircase glowing with a soft luminescence that led upward to the second floor.
The Fire Dragon Boy didn't stand on ceremony. Without another word, he circled the table and headed straight up.
Lu Luo and Han Li bowed, then followed.
By now Han Li had noticed that the two masks were identical — he couldn't tell any difference between the one in his hand and Lu Luo's. Without further hesitation, he pressed the mask to his face the moment he set foot on the stairs.
The mask adhered to his skin with a faint coolness. It was soft, yet so light it felt as though he wore nothing at all — surprisingly comfortable. Han Li found himself a little taken aback.
He turned his head to look at Lu Luo.
A cold, wooden carved face greeted his gaze. Lu Luo had donned his mask as well.
Han Li smiled faintly.
In that brief interval, the three of them had already climbed from the stairwell to the second floor of the pavilion.
The interior was brilliantly lit. Embedded in the ceiling and walls were over a hundred moonstones the size of fists, bathing the space in a light as bright as midday.
What truly surprised Han Li was that this second floor appeared several times larger than the ground level — and this was the exact opposite of the pavilion's exterior shape, which had been narrow at the top and wide at the bottom.