The malicious whisper outside the window coiled around Lin Fan's neck like a cold, venomous snake, making him choke. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, and cold sweat nearly soaked through his thin pajamas.
They really had followed him! And they were planning to sneak in during the second half of the night!
Fear washed over him like a tide. He was a powerless office drone, facing several thugs who clearly meant no good. The consequences were unthinkable. Call the police? His phone was right beside the bed, but he couldn't be sure whether the police would arrive before they... Besides, if he made a scene, how would he explain the origins of the mysterious "Brother Tong Tian" beside him?
He abruptly sat up in bed, his movements stiff with tension. He stared fixedly at the window, its cheap curtains drawn, as if he could see through the fabric to the malice writhing in the shadows outside.
Amid his overwhelming fear and panic, his gaze drifted once more toward the figure sitting cross-legged by the wall.
Tong Tian remained in his meditative pose, eyes closed, his expression as still as a bottomless ancient well. The filthy words outside seemed not to stir the slightest ripple in his heart. Yet Lin Fan keenly sensed that the faint, sword-sharp chill in the room hadn't dissipated. Instead, it flowed silently like an undercurrent.
Had he... heard them?
Lin Fan wasn't sure. This "ancestor" seemed to sense things differently from ordinary people.
"B-Brother Tong Tian?" Lin Fan called softly, a barely perceptible tremor in his voice.
There was no response. Tong Tian seemed truly lost in another world, cut off from this one.
Lin Fan's heart sank. So he couldn't count on him? Well, the man was so weak he could barely stand. What could he do against several people? Lin Fan really was clutching at straws.
He gritted his teeth and reached for his phone. Whatever happened, he'd call the police first! Even if he couldn't explain things, that was better than sitting around waiting for disaster!
But just as his fingertips were about to touch the screen—
"Vmmm..."
A faint hum, like a plucked string, sounded in the quiet room.
It came from Tong Tian.
He still hadn't opened his eyes, but Lin Fan clearly saw the bony index finger of his right hand, resting on his knee, twitch ever so slightly. It was such a tiny movement, yet it seemed to pluck an invisible string. The sharp chill filling the air suddenly gathered and intensified!
It was no longer a faint presence. It had become a palpable, icy will!
"Hiss—"
Outside, the lewd whispers and snickers were abruptly cut off, as if sliced through by a blade!
In their place came several strangled gasps, as if forced from the depths of their throats, filled with indescribable terror and pain.
Then came a scramble of hurried footsteps, accompanied by the rustling of bodies brushing against the plants in the landscaping. The sounds receded rapidly, as if vengeful ghosts were chasing them.
In just two or three seconds, silence returned outside the window. Only the evening breeze rustled the leaves as usual.
It had all happened too quickly, too abruptly.
Lin Fan froze on the bed, his finger still a centimeter from his phone. He was completely dumbfounded.
What had happened?
Had those thugs... run away?
Just because... Tong Tian had moved a finger? Or was it that suddenly oppressive "chill"?
Lin Fan whipped around to look at Tong Tian.
Tong Tian slowly opened his eyes.
In the dim light, those eyes were no longer as still as an ancient well. They were like two cold stars—or a flash of swordlight glimpsed far below the deepest abyss—so sharp that no one dared look directly at them. The look lasted only an instant before his eyes returned to their usual depth and calm, but Lin Fan was certain he hadn't imagined it.
"Mere ants, making noise and disturbing my peace," Tong Tian said calmly, as if he had merely brushed away a speck of dust. He didn't even look toward the window. His gaze rested on some point in the air, carrying an indifference Lin Fan couldn't understand—the aloofness of a supreme being looking down on insignificant creatures.
Lin Fan opened his mouth to say something, but his throat was too dry to make a sound.
Ants... making noise...
He remembered how, when that invisible, icy will had burst forth, a primal shiver had risen from deep within his soul, even though it hadn't been directed at him. It was an intimidation that transcended the physical and struck straight at the mind.
This "Brother Tong Tian" was probably far more extraordinary than he'd imagined.
"They... they..." Lin Fan finally managed to speak, though he still stammered.
"They have fled," Tong Tian said curtly, closing his eyes again. It seemed even that brief effort had drained what little mental strength he had left. "They won't dare come near again anytime soon."
His certainty was absolute.
Lin Fan watched him return to his "meditation," his thoughts in turmoil.
An ordinary person could never have done that! Even those legendary martial arts experts probably couldn't scare off several ill-intentioned, fully grown thugs with sheer presence alone!
Could it be... that the things he'd said before—"all my magic power is gone," "the Heavenly Dao has changed"—weren't nonsense?
An absurd thought began to take shape, growing clearer before the iron-hard fact unfolding right in front of him. He couldn't stop it from surfacing—
The "ancestor" he'd picked up might—probably, perhaps—really be no ordinary person. He might even have come from some... world Lin Fan couldn't understand?
The thought made Lin Fan's head spin. He shook it hard, trying to suppress the outrageous idea.
"Th-thank you." Whatever else was true, the danger had passed for now, and Lin Fan thanked him sincerely.
Tong Tian didn't respond, as if he'd already sunk into his own world.
Lin Fan lay back down, but he couldn't sleep again. He'd taken in far too much information tonight, far more than the worldview he'd built over his twenty-odd years could handle. He stared at the ceiling, replaying the bizarre scene over and over, along with the occasional inhuman gleam in Tong Tian's eyes.
Only when dawn began to break did he finally drift off, exhausted, his thoughts a muddle.
It felt as though he had only just closed his eyes when the piercing alarm dragged him roughly from his light sleep.
Lin Fan struggled to turn it off. His head felt packed with paste, and his whole body ached. Rubbing his bleary eyes, he sat up and instinctively looked toward the wall.
Tong Tian was still sitting there, in almost exactly the same position as before Lin Fan had gone to sleep. Even the folds in his robe hadn't changed. It was as if he hadn't slept through the night but had been frozen in place by time. Morning light slanted through a gap in the curtains, casting mottled shadows over him and making him look even more like a lifeless statue.
"Morning..." Lin Fan greeted him out of habit, his voice hoarse.
Tong Tian slowly opened his eyes, glanced at him, and gave a slight nod in acknowledgment. His complexion seemed a little better than last night, but he was still pale, and the depth and distance in his gaze hadn't diminished at all.
Lin Fan climbed out of bed and began his usual, unchanging morning routine as an office drone—washing up and changing clothes against the clock. Throughout it all, he could feel a gaze resting on him, faint but steady, full of scrutiny and curiosity.
When he picked up his smart phone, its case worn from use after charging all night, that gaze seemed to grow more focused.
Lin Fan unlocked the screen and habitually glanced at the weather and news alerts.
Just then, Tong Tian spoke, a trace of confusion in his voice. "What manner of magical artifact is this? It can display words and images?"
Lin Fan paused and looked up. Tong Tian was frowning slightly at the phone in his hand. He wasn't looking at an ordinary electronic device so much as examining an unfamiliar Innate spiritual treasure, one that contained strange laws.
"Magical artifact?" Lin Fan laughed and waved his phone. "It's a phone, man. You make calls, go online, play games... It's essential for modern people. Don't you guys on the... uh, film set use these?"
He'd almost swallowed the word "film set" again, but he couldn't think of a better explanation.
"Phone? Calling? Going online?" Tong Tian repeated the unfamiliar words, his frown deepening. He tried to sense the "magical artifact" with his divine consciousness, only to find that its inner workings were astonishingly complex and precise. It contained a flow of energy that wasn't driven by spiritual power, which he couldn't understand, and countless tiny "runes" (circuitry?). It lay completely beyond his understanding of magical artifacts.
"How does it function? What is its source of energy? What sort of laws of the Great Dao do these flashing runes represent?" He asked one question after another, with the seriousness of someone seeking guidance on a matter crucial to his cultivation.
Tong Tian's questions made Lin Fan's scalp tingle. How was he supposed to explain? Circuit boards? Programming? Electromagnetic waves? He was a liberal arts graduate; he barely understood any of it himself!
"Well... it's a long story." Lin Fan scratched his head and went with the simplest explanation he could think of. "Just think of it as a box that's, um, an upgraded version of clairvoyance and clairaudience. You can use it to talk to people far away, see what's happening in distant places, and look up all kinds of knowledge."
The explanation was obviously too simplistic, and Tong Tian's expression showed he wasn't satisfied. But he seemed to realize Lin Fan wasn't an expert in this field, so he didn't press the matter. He kept staring at the phone as if he meant to examine every inch of it.
Lin Fan hurriedly stuffed the phone into his pocket, worried Tong Tian would ask him to take it apart next.
After washing up, Lin Fan looked at the ancient-style robe Tong Tian was wearing. Though it still seemed extraordinary, it had become somewhat rumpled after the night's events. Lin Fan hesitated.
"Um... Brother Tong Tian, is that your only outfit? Do you want to... change?" he asked tentatively. If Tong Tian walked around dressed like that, everyone would stare. Lin Fan didn't want them surrounded like monkeys at a zoo.
Tong Tian glanced down at his sleeves and said placidly, "This is my Daoist robe. Though its spiritual light is subdued, it is no ordinary garment. Why should I change?"
A Daoist robe? Lin Fan's mouth twitched. Fine, if you say so.
"It's not a matter of whether it's good or not," Lin Fan said, trying to choose his words. "It's... you'll stand out too much if you go out dressed like that. Nobody dresses that way here."
Tong Tian looked at Lin Fan's T-shirt and jeans, then through the gap in the curtains at the occasional passerby outside, dressed in modern clothes. He seemed to understand. After a moment's silence, he said, "When in Rome?"
"Exactly, exactly! When in Rome!" Lin Fan nodded rapidly. He hurriedly rummaged through his wardrobe. He didn't have many clothes, mostly cheap basics. After searching, he managed to find a plain white cotton T-shirt he'd bought too big and a pair of stretchy black sweatpants.
"Try these on? They might not fit perfectly, but they'll do for now." Lin Fan handed the clothes over.
Tong Tian looked at the soft "mortal cloth," which showed no trace of runes or protective seals, and the strangely styled pants. A trace of distaste crossed his eyes again. But in the end, he took them and walked into the bathroom.
After a while, the bathroom door opened.
Lin Fan looked up and immediately froze.
Tong Tian emerged in the plain white T-shirt and black sweatpants. The clothes didn't quite fit: the T-shirt was a little tight, outlining his smooth, solid muscles, and the sweatpants were slightly short, revealing his delicate ankles.
And yet, even in this utterly ordinary modern outfit, he somehow managed to look like a... runway model? Compared to his ancient robes, the clothes even gave him a sharper, more modern air, though they did nothing to conceal his ancient aura.
His ink-black hair hung loose around his shoulders, creating a striking contrast with the simple modern clothes. His peerlessly handsome face remained expressionless, and when his eyes swept over Lin Fan, they still held that air of looking down on him.
The look was out of place, yet somehow suited him perfectly.
Lin Fan had to admit to himself that some people could look good in a sack.
"Acceptable." As usual, Tong Tian gave his verdict in two words, seemingly approving of the comfort of these "mortal clothes" (?).
Lin Fan breathed a sigh of relief. At least he could wear them.
Next came breakfast. Since the instant noodles had worked out so well the night before, Lin Fan prepared two more bowls, this time adding eggs and ham sausage for a deluxe version.
Tong Tian looked at the familiar food. This time, he made no comment about "impure energy." He calmly took the fork, now far more practiced than the night before, and began eating quickly and quietly. He still ate fast, but some of his former elegance had returned.
Watching him, Lin Fan felt more and more as if he'd taken in an ancestor who needed looking after.
After breakfast, Lin Fan faced a serious problem—he had to go to work.
Should he leave Tong Tian home alone? Looking at how little the man knew about modern society, Lin Fan couldn't bring himself to do it. For one thing, what if he got curious and touched a power outlet or the gas stove? The consequences could be disastrous.
Take him to the office? Lin Fan imagined walking into the high-rise with this "brother," whose presence seemed to tower eight feet above everyone else, his long hair and old-fashioned air unchanged despite his new clothes. He felt his career might end right there.
As if he could see Lin Fan's dilemma, Tong Tian set down his fork and wiped his mouth with a tissue—he'd already learned how to do that. "Do as you will. I shall meditate here. There is no need to concern yourself with me."
His tone was calm, as if he truly meant to sit there meditating all day.
Lin Fan hesitated for a long time, but in the end, he still couldn't stop worrying. He thought it over, then took out a pen and paper and wrote down his phone number along with a few basic instructions: don't open the door to strangers, don't touch the kitchen switches or gas stove, don't go outside, boil water if you get thirsty, and so on.
He handed the note to Tong Tian. "My number's on here. It's... um, the number for a kind of long-distance communication device. If there's an emergency, you can use it to contact me." He pointed to the spare old phone he'd left on the table, which he'd dug out and charged the night before. "I've set this phone up for you. Press this green button and it'll call me."
Tong Tian took the note, scanned the crooked handwriting, then glanced at the old phone and nodded to show he understood.
Lin Fan gave him a few more instructions, then finally left with the same anxious feeling a father might have sending his child to kindergarten for the first time. He looked back over his shoulder again and again as he went.
After squeezing into the morning rush-hour subway, where people were packed in like sardines, Lin Fan finally made it into the office building just in time. He clocked in and sat down at his workstation, feeling more exhausted than if he'd run a marathon.
But before he could catch his breath, the project manager's greasy face leaned over to him.
"Lin Fan, where's that first draft of the requirements I asked you to do yesterday? Send it over so I can have a look." The manager tapped his desk, his voice carrying its usual impatience.
Lin Fan's heart tightened. He'd spent the whole night dealing with his "ancestor" and had only finished half the requirements.
"Manager, I'm... still working on it. Something came up yesterday and set me back..." Lin Fan explained, forcing himself through it.
"Something came up?" The manager raised an eyebrow, his voice climbing an octave. "The company pays you to get work done—"
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