Shi Yao's eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, all he could see was the soft glow of light spilling into the room. His surroundings were familiar—too familiar. The intricate wooden carvings on the walls, the faint scent of incense lingering in the air…
"The mystery house," he muttered under his breath, sitting up slowly. But this time, something was different. The oppressive darkness that had once engulfed the place was gone, replaced by a gentle, warm light. It illuminated the room in a way that made it feel almost… alive.
Pushing himself to his feet, Shi Yao walked cautiously to the door.
The door was intricately designed, embedded with delicate gold patterns that shimmered in the dim light. Strange markings lined its edges—symbols he had seen before, yet their meaning remained elusive. It wasn't just a doorway; it was a puzzle, a gateway meant to guard something valuable.
Shi Yao scanned the room, his gaze drifting across the elaborate wooden panels and the meticulously crafted mechanisms carved into the walls. Each gear, each engraved pattern told a story—an enigma waiting to be unravelled. As his fingers traced the familiar grooves, recognition dawned on him.
This was no ordinary room. It was a box. The same box that had led him to that world… and now, here.
The realization sent a shiver down his spine. The markings on the walls mirrored the designs on the box—the patterns seamlessly interwoven into the room's architecture. Every inch of the space had been deliberately crafted, a grand mechanism waiting to be activated.
Shi Yao took a steady breath and began assembling the parts. He turned the gears, aligned the shifting panels, and pressed his palm against one of the symbols. The room responded—walls groaned, wood scraped against stone, and slowly, methodically, they began to move, revealing a passage.
Beyond the shifting walls lay a vast hall, stretching endlessly with towering pillars and intricate carvings depicting scenes of an era long past. The high ceiling was adorned with golden latticework, catching the last remnants of daylight that filtered through the arched openings above. The air carried a lingering sense of history, of whispered secrets lost to time.
But what truly caught Shi Yao's attention were the people.
A group of individuals, all dressed in modern clothes, stood scattered across the hall, engaged in animated discussion. Their voices overlapped, creating a low hum of conversation, echoing softly against the towering walls. It was a stark contrast to the grandeur of the setting—a bizarre juxtaposition that only deepened the mystery.
Shi Yao frowned, stepping into the hall. Who are these people? And why are they here?