Northwest of Fu City lay barren mountains and untended graves in every direction. Normally, no one would come here at all.
Yet at that moment, a car stood parked at the foot of a mountain. A tall woman got out and tilted her head back to look up at the steep peak.
The end of the year was approaching, and the air was filled with the smell of burnt paper ashes, incense, candles, and firecrackers.
Usually, hardly anyone came here, but around the New Year, people came and went to pay respects to their ancestors and tend their graves. Wrapped in down jackets, they brought their families along and threaded through the smoke and dust.
Zhong Xueran was expressionless. She had not come to worship her ancestors or sweep their graves.
Instead... she had come for the Taoist temple here.
Northwest of Fu City stood Little Chongyang Temple. It had once drawn a steady stream of worshippers, but had recently fallen into disuse.
It had been abandoned because there was no one to take over, for the people in charge of Little Chongyang Temple bore the surname Zhong.
This place... could be considered the Zhong Family's ancestral grounds.
Zhong Xueran pulled her trench coat tighter around herself and began climbing the mountain without a word.
Little Chongyang Temple stood halfway up the mountain. There was no main road leading to it, and vehicles could not reach it. The only way up was on foot.
The wind grew stronger as she climbed. But when Zhong Xueran reached the temple entrance, she saw a sight completely different from what she had imagined.
Why was Little Chongyang Temple no longer dilapidated?
Zhong Xueran frowned slightly as she looked at the clearly renovated temple before her, puzzled.
Shrouded in hazy smoke, the ancient temple