Arriving at the lush, flowering area, Zoya seemed to exhale a deep sigh of relief. The large white dog, which had been crawling tensely, transitioned to walking upright.

Though it didn't move quickly, the sense of alertness that had gripped it previously seemed to have significantly slackened. I surmised that perhaps the very fact that vegetation could thrive here meant there wasn't overwhelming danger, as potent electrical currents would surely have scorched the plant life.

With both mind and body relaxed, our pace quickened considerably. As we pushed through a curtain of shoulder-high flowering vines, the scenery ahead abruptly underwent a dramatic transformation.

This sudden shift left me momentarily stunned. The previous brilliance of the golden hues within the grand hall had vanished, replaced by a sheer, obsidian wall.

Dotted across this black expanse were hundreds—no, at least a hundred—of luminous beads embedded in the surface. The intensity of these beads varied, and against the deep black curtain of the wall, they resembled a vast, scattered firmament of stars.

I observed that the arrangement of the beads was not entirely random; the closer a bead was to the center, the brighter it shone, while those near the edges were dimmer. Though chaotic at first glance, it possessed a distinct visual layering.

This wall, inlaid with glowing orbs, was framed by dense blossoms and creeping vines, with a thin veil of mist swirling around, lending the entire scene an air of deep mystery. Seeing that no passage remained to the left or right of this wall, I turned to Zoya amidst my astonishment and asked, "Is this what you meant by the mural?

I can't make anything out here." Zoya didn't answer immediately. She walked slowly until she was less than a meter from the wall and instructed, "Come and look closer." I approached with curiosity and, even before Zoya prompted me further, had already noticed something peculiar.

On this wall, beyond the luminous beads, a thin groove connected every pair of adjacent beads, grooves precisely sized to allow all the beads to shift freely. I hypothesized that this wall was more than just a static barrier; it was likely a mechanism wall.

If the beads were moved in a specific sequence, some kind of device would undoubtedly be triggered. At that moment, Zoya produced a frayed piece of parchment from seemingly nowhere and unfurled it before me.

I looked at the parchment; it was covered entirely in dense clusters of tiny dots. Comparing the small black dots on the paper with the wall before us, I instantly understood: this was a schematic of the wall's configuration.

Following the diagram on the parchment by manipulating the beads on the wall would surely activate the mechanism. But where had this diagram come from?

I wondered, though the question remained unspoken. Given that Zoya had resided here for decades, possessing an old parchment was hardly surprising.

Zoya then pointed to the black dots on the map and explained, "Only by arranging them in the sequence shown here can the mural be revealed." I nodded in affirmation. "Good, let’s begin then." Just then, Long Jia interjected, "Granny Zoya, this pattern of lines—doesn't it look like the Male Script from the ancient shamanic language?

Could this be connected to the origin of the Shamans?" Zoya nodded. "Indeed.

I believe the fundamental design principle of this mechanism originated in early sorcery. However, I already attempted to decipher it, but found nothing coherent—just a jumble of meaningless characters." Long Jia frowned slightly and asked, "How did you try to decipher it?

Did you copy all the lines and then try to break the code?" Zoya shook her head. "Certainly not.

I tried to decipher this image." Long Jia studied the pattern on the parchment closely, then conceded with a nod. "You are right, this diagram yields no immediate answers.

To decipher the Male Script on the wall, there are simply too many lines; some would need to be filtered out." Zoya nodded slightly. "You come from a lineage of Great Shamans, after all.

You understand Shamanic script far better than I do. Since these lines are fixed, you should be able to determine how many valid interpretations exist, shouldn't you?" Long Jia offered no definitive answer.

Since the floor was paved with gold, she couldn't use a stick to draw on the ground, so she extended her index finger and began sketching in the palm of her right hand. After sketching for a while, she frowned.

"There might be around seven possible interpretations here, and drawing them all out would likely consume a significant amount of time." That’s when I cut in, "No rush; take your time solving it. Let's focus on assembling the layout shown in the diagram first." Zoya agreed.

"Right, let's start now. But you should be prepared: it took me a full fortnight to align this pattern correctly back then." I smiled faintly.

"You needn't worry about that. I've tackled puzzles of this intellectual caliber countless times before." With that, I shifted the very central bead onto a groove and moved one of the beads immediately above it into the vacated position, completing the first step.

Actually, moving the hundred-plus beads on this wall was neither overwhelmingly difficult nor entirely simple. The mechanism was somewhat analogous to the game Huarong Dao (Chinese Sliding Puzzle): to move one bead, you first had to shift the bead occupying its destination spot, and then slide the original bead in.

This meant one had to constantly consider whether the bead temporarily moved into a holding groove could still be slotted into another empty spot later. Therefore, this wall was slightly more challenging than Huarong Dao because the puzzle game starts with an empty space allowing misplaced blocks to be temporarily stored.

On this wall mechanism, every bead had a corresponding socket, and no empty sockets existed. A careless move meant the displaced bead might find no place to go.

The beads had three distinct levels of luminosity: brightest, moderately bright, and standard illumination. These corresponded to large, medium, and small black dots on the parchment, making them quite easy to differentiate.

However, staring at them for too long became disorienting, precisely because the arrangement of the dots seemed utterly without pattern. In truth, the optimal solution for such mechanisms is often to partition the entire wall into zones and solve them sequentially, but that path would prove tremendously time-consuming.

My approach—starting from the center to create maneuvering space for the large ring of surrounding beads before slowly expanding outward—was more intellectually taxing, but significantly faster. When Zoya first saw me start at the center, she regarded me with a look of faint disdain.

But as I systematically pushed the beads into their correct positions, her expression shifted to surprise, and then to a hint of admiration. By the time the task was nearing completion, she clearly felt she could no longer offer assistance.

Calculating mentally while manipulating the beads, I spent perhaps only half an hour before only the final bead remained out of place. At that instant, both Zoya’s and Long Jia’s gazes focused entirely on my fingertips.

I slowly pushed the final bead into its proper location, and immediately, the entire wall responded with a series of clicking and whirring sounds as the mechanism engaged, initiating a marvelous transformation.