Deep within Eastern Mausoleum.
There stands a large mountain, several peaks overlapping to form a trident-shaped range, extending outward on both sides, with the middle peak standing straight.
Few people inhabit around, almost no living beings come here.
A few thatched huts are set up, positioned on the summit of the high peaks.
Two people live here: an old man with white beard, short in stature but with a glossy face, his vitality not waning, eyes bright and sharp.
At the moment, he appears extremely anxious, one hand behind his back, pacing back and forth in front of the hut, occasionally sighing lightly, sometimes murmuring "Oh dear!"
Nearby...
There's also a little girl in a blue dress, about five or six years old, with a tender face and fair skin, appearing clean and tidy.
She lies on a giant stone, her jet-black eyes resembling gemstones, fixed on the old man pacing back and forth, muttering: "One hundred thirty-one, one hundred thirty-two, thirty-three..."
