The first peak of Yuanmang.
Rows of wooden palaces sat at the center of the mountain peak.
Today the weather was fine and the sun shone brightly; a warm breeze blew gently, making one want to lazily find a spot to enjoy the scenic beauty of the summit.
Standing atop the highest peak of Yuanmang, one could overlook the smaller mountains below and gaze down upon the more beautiful peaks nearby, clearly seeing the mist curling around the valleys and ravines.
"Once every three years, here I am again."
Han Ting beamed with a smile, her eyes brimming with eager interest.
Pang Jian surveyed the surroundings silently.
He noticed that on the smooth, flat rocks of the summit, there were many mats arranged for seating.
In front of each mat, there stood a wooden stand for displaying items.
Between the numerous wooden stands and mats, there were also several wooden towers, with loyal women dressed in white of Cao sitting atop the towers that were several zhang high.
