"Perhaps she just wandered a little too far while playing. She should be found soon."
Ning Fengzhi took a deep breath, suppressed the agitation in his heart, and cupped his hands. "Thank you for your help, Your Holiness."
He knew there was no use worrying now. He could only place his hopes in Spirit Hall's efficiency.
Four hours slipped quietly by. Group after group hurried in to report, their faces filled with anxiety and helplessness.
Yet their reports were all the same: they had searched every corner of Martial Soul Holy City, but there was still no trace of Ning Rongrong.
Ning Fengzhi sat in his seat, his fingers unconsciously rubbing the rim of his teacup.
His usually gentle eyes were now bloodshot, and the anxiety between his brows was almost spilling over.
Rongrong was the flesh of his heart, and the hope of his sect. How could her sudden disappearance not make his heart clench?
He abruptly rose to his feet and looked at Bibi Dong beside him, his voice carrying a barely perceptible tremor. "Your Holiness! This situation-"
Before he could finish, overwhelming worry choked the words in his throat.
Bibi Dong sat upright, her magnificent papal robes lending her an air of grace and majesty.
She coughed twice, swept her gaze over everyone in the hall, and finally settled on Ning Fengzhi. Her tone was calm, yet carried an unquestionable force. "Ahem! Sect Master Ning, please be patient. Heaven watches over the fortunate, and Rongrong will surely be all right."
"Spirit Hall's people are still searching. With our capabilities, we will certainly find her today, so please set your mind at ease."
Although Ning Fengzhi knew Bibi Dong meant to reassure him, her words still settled his heart somewhat.
He drew a deep breath and nodded, though