Guangcheng Palace, Crane Peak.
Quan Shifang circled around the small building in the back mountain and walked out disappointed.
The living room's table still had a half-filled cup of unfinished tea, while on the second floor's dressing table sat a delicate peachwood comb with several strands of black hair caught between its teeth.
He recognized the scent on the hair. Ning Xiaoxian liked to wash her hair with rose flower dew, a fragrance he had grown accustomed to throughout the days they spent together.
After pondering for a moment, he placed the comb into his storage bag.
After the disaster at the inheritance ceremony, he had anxiously checked the foot of Yuhu Peak, dreading to discover her crushed by the boulders. When the rockslide erupted suddenly, he was far too distant behind his master to protect her.
