The moon was bright, and the stars were sparse.
It was not until midnight, at Zi Shi, that the old man finally put down the notebook in his hand and sighed wistfully. "I can see that, little brother, you have read quite broadly. I wonder, do you have any insights into the underworld?"
The underworld?
Jiang Qiao's first reaction was the phrase neither human nor ghost.
However, judging by the old man's expression, saying that aloud might offend him. He might even turn hostile and start a fight on the spot. So, after considering his wording, Jiang Qiao slowly said:
"The underworld? By and large, it's full of orphans without homes. Pretty pitiful, really."
He lowered his head and glanced at the notebook.
The notebook in his hands happened to have opened to a story that took place in the underworld. It told of a village where, whenever a child was born, the child's biological father would die on the spot. Ten years later, the mother would die as well.
Yet the child would gain a supernatural ability at birth and another at the age of ten.
Basically, it was a case of sacrificing both parents to gain boundless power.
That was the gist of it.
But then.
One day, something happened.
In one household, after the child was born, all the relatives and friends gathered, waiting for the feast to begin. But after waiting and waiting, no food was served. The father was still jumping around full of life, without the slightest sign of dying.
Just as everyone was discussing the matter and wondering if a miracle had occurred,
news suddenly came from outside.
The old man of the neighboring Wang family had inexplicably died in bed, despite being perfectly healthy. The cause of death was a mystery.
And