When the sky was dim, the fire had long lost its heat. Jinghong hugged his sword and tapped his head down like a chick pecking at rice. He was suddenly woken up. His first reaction was to pull out his sword and sized up his surroundings.
Seeing that there was no danger, he heaved a sigh of relief.
"I actually fell asleep after saying that I had to keep watch." Jinghong rubbed his stiff neck in self-reproach and turned to greet the ancestor. When he passed by Madam Ah Shu's tent, he vaguely felt that something was wrong.
"Madam Ah Shu," he called softly from outside.
There was no reaction from the tent. The uneasiness in Jinghong's heart was magnified. He hesitated for a moment, gritted his teeth, and used the hilt of his sword to lift the tent to take a look. In the end, he was dumbfounded.
"Not good—not good—Ancestor—Madam Ah Shu is missing—" Jinghong scrambled to the outside of Sikong Ye's tent.
