ATOP A TOWERING palace stood a man with a robe of golden silk brocade. With his hands placed on his back, his gaze, as though reaching every corner of Da Sishen, was piercing through boundaries, with his white beard swaying in the breeze of the strong wind.
Behind him was a woman whose demeanor didn't lose to his, wearing her faint red hanfu dress. She lifted her chin and looked at the man in front of her. As her twin peaks slightly jiggled with a single move of her body, she said, "Territory Lord, no…" she trailed, shaking her head… "Father, the Annual Death Ceremony. What did you see?"
The man shook his head. Helplessness gleamed from his eyes. "I did not see any vivid images, but I know that a storm is brewing. It feels like something is going to happen out of hand. That's why we need to prepare."