Inside the room.
Jialan glanced at An Qingyu and Chen Gou, who were still chatting outside, then gently closed the door. A white figure drifted up from the ground and floated beside her.
"Jialan," Jiang Er's voice came through the earpiece in Jialan's ear, "I took a look around nearby just now. Other than a few broken radios, there isn't any electronic equipment in this village—not even a single phone."
Since Jiang Er's ghostly state was far too frightening, and knocking on villagers' doors in the middle of the night while carrying a coffin hardly made them look like normal people, An Qingyu had hidden Jiang Er's coffin in a cave outside the village beforehand. He had also borrowed a caregiver from Lin Qiye to guard the coffin and prevent anything from happening to Jiang Er.
With the range of Jiang Er's Spirit Channeling Field, even with her coffin inside the cave, she could move freely throughout the Fishing Village in the form of a magnetic field.
"This place really does seem rather backward." Jialan's gaze swept over the dilapidated house before finally settling on a peeling wall.
Several old-fashioned picture frames hung on the grayish-brown wall. Inside were yellowed old photographs, their backgrounds showing the coastline of this Fishing Village. On a tiny, battered boat, a middle-aged man stood with a boy of seven or eight, each carrying several large fish and smiling happily.
The middle-aged man in the photograph was the fisherman outside, Chen Gou, in his younger days.
"He doesn't look that old in the photo, does he?" Jiang Er mused. "His son should only be in his twenties now, right?"
"More or less."
Jialan shifted her gaze from the photograph and began examining the other details of the house.
As Jiang Er helped, she hesitated for