The door pulsed with pale light, its arched frame carved in ancient runes only half-familiar. You stepped in without hesitation, the cold brushing against your skin like a whispered warning. When your eyes adjusted, you were standing in the Circle of Doors once again—each one suspended in midair, spiraling in impossible directions. But this time, you didn't hesitate. The eighth door was directly ahead, almost as if it was waiting.

You walked toward it.

As your hand touched the handle, a chill swept through your palm, crawling up your arm like frostbite. Then—click. The door swung open with a deep groan, revealing an overcast sky, grey clouds swirling like slow-moving beasts above jagged mountain peaks.

You stepped into a highland temple nestled on a misty plateau. Stone lanterns lined the cracked path, their lights flickering weakly against the biting wind. The scent of incense clung faintly to the air, blending with the earthy musk of moss and stone. Snowflakes drifted lazily around you, though they melted before touching the temple grounds—as if the realm itself decided which rules to break.

And there, at the base of the steps leading to the temple’s gate, stood four figures.

Your breath caught.

One of them turned. Ling Jiushi. You hadn’t seen him in ages—at least not like this. The hood of his ash-grey hoodie was pushed back, revealing his slightly tousled hair, and he wore white jeans completely inappropriate for this cold. His eyes widened when he recognized you, but he didn’t smile. Not yet.

Beside him stood a trio zaozao the superstar along with dongyuan and ruan lanzhu