The scene ended abruptly there, catching even Lin Feng off guard.
That was it.
That was all?
What happened next?
Where was the sequel?
Where was the scene after he paid?
Wow, you cut it off here? Are you even human?!
From the imperial gardens to the remote mountains of Western Hunan, he had suddenly returned to the bitterly cold, danger-ridden Western Hunan Mountains.
The contrast was immense.
For a moment, Lin Feng struggled to adjust to the shift from peaceful, pleasant Bianjing, with its refreshments, gentle breezes, maidservants, and gold, to the cold, sinister, damp Western Hunan Mountains.
He was back in a place where his companions were ghosts, veteran soldiers, a Corpse Driver who made his living through dubious means, and a guide whose death always came without a sound.
Lin Feng slapped his thigh in frustration!
What a cutoff!
So damn short!
Damn designers.
Damn producers.
I, Lin Feng, wish you lives that end just as abruptly as this memory.
Oh, you're already dead.
Never mind, then.
The memory fragment Lin Feng had obtained did not explain much. It merely revealed that, beginning with the Song Dynasty's third emperor, Emperor Zhenzong Zhao Heng, the dynasty had sent feng shui masters to Western Hunan to study its mountains and waters and survey its earth veins.
It seemed that entire group of feng shui masters had perished in the mountains.
Few had survived.
In other words, these remote mountains of Western Hunan had been extremely dangerous since the Song Dynasty.
These men in broad square headscarves might not have belonged to the same era as those who had fought magical battles against the pointed hats.
The Song emperors might have been foolish.
But they had promoted Taoism and suppressed Buddhism.
They would never have allowed men in broad square