The vast Snowfield, where the ancient wind and snow never cease through the years.
At the very heart of this bitterly cold land stands the Holy Land where ten thousand Buddhas pay homage—the Great Snow Temple.
Here, year-round, Brahma chants lie in stillness, incense is restrained within, a scene of pure quietude of the Buddhist Sect.
Yet today, the entire snowy Buddhist domain is thoroughly roused to uproar; above the mountain gate auspicious clouds cluster, fragrant winds fill the sky, guests come and go in an endless stream, Buddha light flows everywhere—an unprecedented spectacle.
In the distance the Cloud Sea surges, cold mist wrapped with water vapor spreads through the high heavens.
A procession with scales flashing in streams of light and water mist coiling around their bodies steps upon the clouds, its momentum vast and mighty—none other than the water clans of the White River Dragon Palace.
