The beggar was in rags, his upper body leaning against a wall. A foul stench emanated from him, and many of his wounds had already rotted, making him look as though he did not have long to live. Though he bore numerous wounds and his clothes were tattered, one could still tell that he must have led a life of luxury and abundance in ordinary times.
His skin was very white, his palms free of calluses, and his fingers slender, bearing no trace of having ever done heavy labor.
People who did hard labor in the countryside tended to have thick, short fingers and rough skin.
He was clearly not a countryman.
Chen Shi's gaze flickered. "Situ Tiangong, is this beggar from your town?"
Situ Wen stepped forward, inspected him closely, and shook his head. "I don't recognize him. I haven't been back for many years, and there are many people in town I don't know... Aunt An Xiu, do you recognize this person?"
An old woman walked over. Her spirit was still quite robust. She cast a glance at the beggar and said, "I wouldn't dare claim to know him offhand. He looks rather unfamiliar..."
Suppressing the pain at the back of his head, Chen Shi smiled and said, "Then he's a refugee from elsewhere?"
Inside the wooden cart, Black Pot suddenly noticed that the Heaven Measuring Iron Ruler beside it was quietly floating up, along with the West King's Jade Seal, which was currently rising slowly as well. Bound up like a zongzi and unable to move, Black Pot could only roll its eyes, watching as one prehistoric pattern after another on the Heaven Measuring Iron Ruler gradually lit up, as if thunderous light were flowing beneath those markings.
At the same time, in the little shrine at