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The pathway was not long, and it linked three courtyards. The sides of the staircase were filled with cobwebs that swayed in the air, and they reflected the silver moonlight with every sway.

Meng Fuyao silently looked at this average-looking palace. It felt familiar yet foreign, as though she had seen it before, but it was not familiar to the point that she knew it by heart. There were just some details of certain places that tugged at her heartstrings and evoked strong emotions within her.

Very slowly, she walked along the pathway. As she stepped onto the dried leaves, sounds of "cha, cha, cha" were created as the leaves cracked, and the sound resembled mumbles she had heard in the past that were hard to understand.

Like a drifting ghost, Meng Fuyao went up the winding corridor, and she went straight for the third courtyard. Finally, she stopped in front of a small room that was locked.