Standing on the platform looking down, the ballroom was somewhat exquisite.
But when Zheng Qing truly stepped into the dance floor of this venue, standing at the center like a small square, he was stunned by its 'vastness'—perhaps because he and Su Shijun were the opening dancers, at this moment besides them, there were no other guests in the dance floor.
Beneath his feet lay empty and clean Han Baiyu stone slabs, overhead a giant silver-white moon, with a night sky fringed with the heavy curtain of black, adorned with bright sparkling stars, and in the distant forest, tree crowns swayed as if they were sleeping Fire Dragons laying tail-to-tail.
A bit closer, each archway of Baroque architecture glowed with orange-yellow lights like the eyes of awakened pumpkin lanterns; even closer, atop the stone pillars at the edge of the dance floor, stone-carved Magical Creatures clung at the top, gazed curiously and attentively at the two small figures on the dance floor.
