The reason the name "Song Qingshan" sounded familiar to me was because of Song Xiaotian's dad's name.
One was called Song Qingshan, and the other Song Qing.
Could there be some connection between them?
"Probably a coincidence," An Ning said. "Plenty of people have the exact same name. These two are still one character apart."
I nodded. Maybe it really was a coincidence.
More and more things had been happening lately, and my nerves had grown sensitive.
I would ask Song Xiaotian later and see whether he knew this Daoist Song.
There was nothing else in the cardboard box, just some odds and ends.
We had still come up empty-handed.
It looked like my only option tonight was to summon the Ninth Concubine's soul. If it worked, we would probably learn something.
But if it failed, I would have made the trip for nothing.
We had just gone downstairs when the old man returned from feeding the pigs. He led us back up to the second floor and prepared three rooms for us.
"The countryside can't compare to your city."
The old man gave us an unaffected smile. "If you don't mind, it'll do for one night."
The conditions were indeed a little poor, but we were imposing on him. We had no right to complain.
I took out another three hundred yuan and handed it to him. "We don't mind. Sorry for the trouble. We'll only stay one night and head back tomorrow."
Next, the old man took three sleeping mats out of the wardrobe, followed by three thin blankets.
"Dinner's at six, at the same place as before. Get some rest. I'll get back to work."
With that, he turned and left.
Assistant He didn't seem used to staying somewhere like this. I asked whether he wanted to