Watching the curling smoke rise, Fang Zhou felt a mix of complex emotions. This wasn't just incense burning; it was three years of his life expectancy.
Without delay, bolstered by the incense, Fang Zhou's courage grew significantly. Standing outside the door, he looked into the stone house illuminated by the lantern light. He could almost make out the entirety of the small space inside, approximately just a dozen square meters. In the corner, there was a dilapidated wooden bed, and something built from broken stones, possibly a stove or a heat source furnace, was also there. Due to years of disrepair, the wooden bed was rotten and riddled with holes, and the stone-built stove had already collapsed.
"Huff—"
Fang Zhou couldn't help but sigh in relief. He was mentally prepared to discover either Nalan Shuo's or Lou Huixiang's body inside the room. Fortunately, nothing of that sort had happened.
