Bureau of Paranormal Investigation

After dawdling my way over to Guangren, I dumped everything from the bag in front of him. When he saw the pickled mustard greens, canned sausages, and the cans of beer, his expression grew a bit strange. It seemed these things were truly unfamiliar to him—maybe I could bluff my way through after all.

But when I finally took out the salted duck egg, Guangren's face immediately darkened. I suddenly realized—everyone's seen salted duck eggs before. If I kept going down this path, I probably wouldn't get away with it today.

What surprised me was that Guangren's face quickly returned to normal. He picked up a can of beer, shook it a little to feel the liquid inside, then looked at me and asked, "How do you get the beer out of this?"

I bent down to grab the other can and suddenly realized from his tone that this probably wasn't his first time encountering beer. There was no time to ask; I popped open the can with a "snap" and handed it to him. Guangren took it, sniffed around the opening, then took a small sip. After tasting it, he immediately tilted his head back and gulped down a large mouthful with a "gulp gulp" sound. After that one big swig, the can was nearly empty.

Guangren clearly wanted more. He imitated me opening the second can and finished that one in one go. Seeing this, I couldn't help but ask, "You've had this kind of drink before?"

Guangren looked at me with a faint smile and said, "Beer, huh? It's been so long I almost forgot what it tastes like. The last time I drank beer was in the ninth year of the Tongzhi reign (1870), back in Prussia. The beer back then was much more astringent but had a stronger flavor. The one I just drank tastes like watered-down compared to the Prussian beer."

The ninth year of Tongzhi? At that time, Prussia would have been what's now Germany. I silently calculated the date—it was over a hundred years ago… Seeing Guangren speak without hesitation, I pressed on, "So far away, what did you go to Germany… Prussia for?"

Perhaps because he had long been away from alcohol, even the small amount of alcohol in those two cans made Guangren a bit excited. He spoke without any reservations: "To get away from Wu Mian. Back then, to escape him, I fled Qing China. I spent twenty or thirty years in Western countries. Later, homesickness got the better of me—I thought I could sneak back without him knowing. But my luck was abysmal. He found traces of me that same year, tracked me down immediately, and before I could run again, it was too late. That's how Wu Mian crippled all my skills, and locked me away for one hundred and thirteen years."

From Guangren's words, I seemed to catch a faint clue about Wu Rendi's identity. Since I'd started, I decided to dig deeper. At this moment, I regretted not bringing down a few more cans of beer—to get Guangren truly drunk might have unlocked more secrets about Wu Rendi.

I looked at Guangren and asked, "Not only did he cripple you, but locked you away for over a hundred years? What kind of grudge do you two have?"

After hearing my question, Guangren fell silent for a while. Maybe it was the alcohol, but his eyes looked a bit twisted. After a long pause, he slowly spoke, "Wu Mian and I have a complicated relationship. In theory, we're from the same sect, but we fought like cats and dogs. At first, I had the upper hand. Wu Mian was like a mouse chased by a cat, running everywhere to escape. There were even several times he nearly died by my hand. After his last narrow escape, he went into hiding and vanished overnight without a trace…"

Guangren paused, exhaled deeply, then continued, "It was a long time before I found Wu Mian again. As before, we fought immediately upon meeting. But that time the outcome was a complete reversal. I lost all ability to fight back, like a child being toyed with by an adult. Suddenly, the cat became the mouse, and the mouse became the cat…"

After Guangren finished speaking, he shook the empty beer can in his hand, hoping to pour out another sip. Unfortunately, he had drunk it too cleanly just now — after shaking a few times, only a single drop of beer came out. Seeing his disinterested expression, I said, "I was worried you wouldn't get used to this beer, so I didn't bring enough. Next time, I'll bring more bottles down. You can nibble on some snacks to pass the time…" With that, I picked up the pickled mustard greens and sausages from the floor and held them out to him.

But Guangren had no intention of taking them. He looked at me with a hint of mockery and said, "Do you really think I'd eat this stuff?" Then his gaze shifted to the pickled mustard greens as he added, "I've never seen this kind of packaging before, but I'm not illiterate. I've known what pickled mustard greens are for a long time. If food is put together with pickled mustard greens, it can't be much better. As for salted eggs, I don't need to say what they are, do I?"

I gave a dry laugh and said, "Time was tight, so the preparation wasn't very thorough. But don't worry, Guangren, next time I come, I'll bring chicken, duck, fish, and delicacies. And a whole keg of beer."

"Forget the beer. That stuff tastes no different from water. When it comes to alcohol, Huangjiu and Baijiu are still the best." Guangren placed the two empty cans back in my hand and continued, "I can't stand disorder. You'd better take these things back out and deal with them yourself."

Was he trying to shoo me away? After a moment of hesitation, I said to Guangren, "It's getting late. Can you teach me something now?"

"Heh," Guangren chuckled lightly, then said, "I made it clear yesterday: the more surprises you bring me, the more I'll teach you. Two cans of beer and all those stories from before — don't ask for too much. If you want me to teach you, remember to come with sincerity next time."

No matter how I negotiated afterward, even promising to bring a full Manchu-Han banquet the next day, Guangren remained firm. The gist was still: next time, show me how sincere you are, and that's how much you'll get.

With no other choice, I took the bag and headed back the way I came. I walked back in a sulky mood, only perking up a bit when I saw the stairway leading to the storage room. Since there was no hope with Guangren, I had to check out what treasures were hidden inside Wu Rendi's little storeroom.

After inserting the key — which looked like a copper strip — into the lock, I hadn't even turned it before I heard a light "click." Suddenly, a strong suction pulled the entire key into the keyhole. Then came a series of "click-click" sounds, and the storeroom's big door slowly opened on its own.

I instinctively stepped back one step. After confirming there were no traps, I bravely stepped inside. On either side of the room, against the walls, were two rows of bamboo racks cluttered with all kinds of miscellaneous items. On the rack closest to the door, casually tossed, was a sheet of parchment — half of the Heavenly Principle Diagram that Lin Feng dreamed of getting his hands on.

Moving further in, the items on the racks became more bizarre: a half-white, half-black stone; a carved seal of some unknown wood; half a skeleton of an animal, and more. Though I couldn't tell what animal the skeleton was from, my heart suddenly pounded wildly as a heat surged in my chest. Startled, I quickly skirted around it, and after leaving the skeleton's vicinity, the sensation gradually faded and the heat cooled.

The further I walked, the more items filled the racks. On one side, seven or eight short swords with scabbards lay scattered messily. I picked one up at random; it was exactly the same style as the short sword I lost two years ago — the kind made by Wu Rendi. Without hesitation, I took one that caught my eye and hung it behind my waist. Besides these few short swords, I hadn't even heard of the other items. After the warning from the skeleton, I decided to avoid touching anything and just glance briefly. I planned to quickly finish a round and leave to confront Sun Fatty.

At the far end of the storeroom, the bamboo racks abruptly stopped. On the wall there was a narrow wooden box embedded. After hesitating, I used my collapsible baton to flip open the box's lid, revealing two identical short swords inside.

These two short swords were different from the one I'd picked up earlier and from the one my Third Uncle gave me. They were slightly slimmer and longer, and in the pitch-black storeroom they emitted two faint blue cold glows…

Neither sword had scabbards; their blades faced each other, embedded within the wooden box. Just as I hesitated whether to pull one out for a closer look, the short sword hanging at my waist suddenly began vibrating without warning, sending tremors through my lower back. Slightly panicked, I drew the sword from my waist. To my surprise, the sword's vibration intensified under the light.

That wasn't all. Centered on the short sword in my hand, the items on the nearby bamboo racks began vibrating to various degrees, and even the animal skeleton I'd passed emitted mournful cries.

Only the two swords hanging on the wall remained still, quietly embedded in the wooden box. Those wall swords were clearly special! I finally understood and stopped hesitating. I stepped forward and pulled one of the swords from the box.

The moment I gripped the sword, all other objects in the storeroom — including the sword in my other hand and the beast's skeleton — immediately stopped trembling and crying out.

Along with the sword came a bone-chilling cold that slowly traveled from the hilt into my hand. I shivered involuntarily; my hand trembled and the sword nearly slipped from my grasp. Luckily, I reacted just in time and gripped the hilt tightly again before it could fall.

The cold spread up my arm, through my elbow, and farther up. Even the cuff of my sleeve frosted over. It seemed I was still not fated to wield this sword. Just as I was about to return it to the box, the cold suddenly stopped at my chest, replaced by the hot burning sensation that had struck me three times before in the hospital.

The heat surged forward, canceling out the cold. It spread to my palm holding the sword, and at that moment, the sword lost all its chill. More surprising than the sword was the mysterious heat coursing through my body — it actually subdued the sword's cold. What kind of seed had Wu Rendi planted in me?

Amazed, I finally took the time to carefully examine the sword. Unlike other swords I'd handled before, this one bore no runes or inscriptions. The entire blade was pitch black, looking ordinary at a glance. But through my spiritual sight, I could faintly see a pale blue glow emanating from the blade.

With this sword in hand, the previous one seemed insignificant. After all, I was already taking advantage of Wu Rendi's generosity; why not make the most of it? Reassured, I casually placed the earlier sword back onto the bamboo rack behind me and turned to look for a scabbard to match this new sword near the wooden box.

After searching several times, there was no sign of any scabbard nearby.

This was troublesome — without a scabbard, I didn't dare clip the sword to my waist. After much thought, I decided to bite the bullet: "If I take one, might as well take them both." So, I took both short swords from the wooden box and left the storeroom.