Ding Yu thought for a moment, quickly went to the table, lifted his weak hand, arduously took some paper, grabbed a charcoal pen, and began writing the secret codes of the Golden Wing Pavilion.
Yes, the Songhe Temple was previously under the Golden Wing Pavilion and also had its own set of special cipher symbols.
This set of codes could only be recognized by the people of Songhe Temple; to others, it was just a bunch of scribbles, smeared like the useless waste paper of a child's handwriting practice.
A few minutes later, Ding Yu wrote more than a dozen copies, carefully rolled up the papers, and placed them in his sleeve.
Then he got up and pushed the door open to leave.
Over the past few days, he had observed that outside the stone room was a corridor, and beyond the corridor was a network of underground stone halls.
This stone hall connected the rest of the underground space.
None of this was important; what mattered was the wind blowing from the stone hall over there.
