"It’s impossible that you still can’t tell by now that I’m not from your era, right?"

Upon hearing this, the elderly man stood dumbfounded, carefully observing Wen Yan, who appeared too tender and smooth-skinned compared to people of this era, as well as his clothing.

After a few seconds of silence, he let out a long sigh.

"Have I already died?"

"That’s what I’ve heard."

"What about Jianjun?"

"When I knew him, he was already over fifty years old."

"Did he marry?"

"Yes, his wife is very nice."

"Does he have children?"

"Records show he does, but I haven’t met them."

"Are you really from Fuyu Mountain, or did you join the Scorching Sun Department?"

"I’m really from Fuyu Mountain. I’m not part of the Scorching Sun Department; I’m considered a special consultant for them."

Wen Yan took out his phone, scrolled through the photo album until he found his ID photo, and showed it to the elderly man.

The old man took a look, then lightly stomped his foot. Wen Yan felt the restrictions and seals dissipate, and the chains he saw vanish into the ground.

"Did something happen?"

"Old man, do you believe me now?"

"Judging by your appearance, you really shouldn’t be seeing me. I should have died before you were born."

Wen Yan now realized the place might be extremely dangerous.

This old man, during the initial years of the Spiritual Qi Resurgence, when there weren’t many ghosts, was already formidable. Whatever caused his downfall surely wasn’t trivial.

Moreover, he had just noticed a peculiar detail that might be considered a bug.

This era was indeed several decades ago, but the pace of the Spiritual Qi Resurgence seemed to be synchronized with the current world.

This means that if the events of several decades ago occurred again here, the impact might be far greater than it was originally.

Wen Yan thought for a moment, then recounted how Wang Jianjun returned to the village at someone’s behest to take Wang Jianjun away, mentioning in passing that Wang Jianjun had become a Witch Priest.

The old man listened quietly, holding his pipe and lighting tobacco, hearing Wen Yan talk about these things.

By the time Wen Yan finished speaking, dawn had broken.

The old man knocked the ashes out of his pipe, his eyes becoming sharp.

"Oblivious brat."

Just then, a door opened and a small child with a big head and skinny body walked out, looking bewildered. Upon seeing the visitors, the child immediately retreated, leaving the door half-open, peeking through.

The old man beckoned to him, and the child, somewhat wary, circumvented to his side and hid behind him.

Wen Yan rummaged through his pocket, pulling out a pastry and offering it.

"Here, try it. Mung bean cake, it’s tasty."

The old man accepted it for the child and, upon touching it briefly, scrutinized the pastry, perceiving the peculiar power within.

"Thank you," the old man expressed sincerely and handed the pastry to the child: "Eat it."

The child took the pastry, examined it, then broke off half and stuffed it into the old man’s mouth. After considering the other half, he carefully offered it to Wen Yan.

Wen Yan chuckled, took the pastry, and ate it.

Old Wang appeared simple and somewhat malnourished when young, but was well-mannered due to the old man’s teachings.

Wen Yan took out some candies, handing them to the child, instructing him to eat one per day, not more.

Once again, the old man accepted on his behalf, and only then did the child dare to receive.

The old man didn’t rush into action, informing the child that there were leftovers in the pot, advising the child to eat when hungry, as he had matters to attend to outside today.

The old man returned to his room, dragging out a box containing the Feather Robe, a bizarre mask, and various odd trinkets resembling unknown animal bones, some unidentified skulls, and ancient staffs stained with blood that had dried over time.

After gathering his belongings, he locked the door tightly, and went out with Wen Yan.

Not long after they left, people came knocking at the door.

The village team, along with individuals wearing armbands, arrived at the door, one shouting.

"Old Man Wang, something’s happened, open the door."

"Confession brings leniency, resistance brings severity, understand the policy."

Along with the shouting, a young man’s face tinged with green, and a malicious glint appeared in his eyes.

"Why be cordial with him? This guy dabbling with spirits and superstitions, still dares practice these mystic arts!"

"Exactly, some family reported him for conjuring spirits!"

The young men’s eyes filled with hostility, while a ghost perched on one’s neck continued to instigate them.

Finally, unable to resist, one young man took an axe and broke the lock.

As they entered the door, the entrance felt like a huge mouth, instantly swallowing the ghost perched on the young man’s neck, vanishing without a trace.

The young man stumbled, hitting the side wall with his head, resulting in a three to four centimeters long wound where skin peeled back, revealing bone beneath.

Seeing the blood incited the young men further into madness.

The mysterious power left by Old Wang here had little effect on them, as they charged into the courtyard, pushing doors open, searching for Old Wang.

They only found the small child at home, with two steamed yellow buns in the kitchen pot.

...

Dawn broke, Wang Jianjun awoke, packed his things intending to first visit his grandfather’s grave.

As he prepared to set off, he finally met the person helping guide him, an old farmer with graying hair and a long ugly scar on his forehead.

The old farmer told Wang Jianjun that it had been too long, many people had forgotten, and without anyone tending to it for such a time, only a few involved in the arrangements back then might know where his grandfather’s grave was.