The thick mist at the edge of the space dispersed.
Lin Wan Yi stood at the end of the black soil. Originally, this was an impassable white barrier, but now it had blown apart like a light veil, revealing an ancient altar covered in moss.
She climbed the stone steps. In the center of the altar stood a half-person high blank stone tablet.
Her palm rested on the rough stone surface.
A warmth spread from her fingertips. The previously smooth surface of the tablet began to reveal countless golden scripts.
The characters seemed to be alive, following her fingertips, directly entering her mind.
"37th Generation Descendant of the Lin Family, Lin Shuanghua."
An ancient memory laid out before her eyes.
