Professor Sun couldn't make up his mind immediately, but he agreed to try and find out where Commander Feng's hometown was. However, more than ten years had passed; many places had changed beyond recognition, the Orchard Ravine Farm no longer existed, and they didn't even know Commander Feng’s military unit designation. Getting precise information wouldn't be easy. This matter required some special channels, and even starting immediately, the results wouldn't come in a day or two.

I had no choice but to properly store away the ancient bronze mirror and wait patiently. Meanwhile, news arrived from Hong Kong: Duoling’s condition was worsening day by day, with signs of advanced decay already appearing in several patches of lividity on her body. I was extremely anxious, and along with Shirley Yang and Fatty, we were itching for action, waiting only for Professor Sun’s news before we would venture into Sichuan to search the mountains and scour the swamps. Unexpectedly, Old Man Sun—Sun Jiuye—seemed to have vanished into thin air; there was still no word.

Shirley Yang saw that they couldn't delay any longer, so she entrusted Uncle Ming to send her to America for treatment. After considerable effort, they managed to stabilize the corpse poison within her. A Western scholar who had spent many years studying Nanyang sorcery believed that "Jian Tou" was a very ancient form of witchcraft, or perhaps a kind of "deep hypnotic suggestion." Through a special medium, the living person is made to accept the suggestion that they are already dead, and the body then gradually begins to rot.

Whether his viewpoint is correct or not is debatable. Although contemporary science is highly developed, Western science only studies physical motion, neglecting the realms of human spirit and consciousness, lacking research into abnormal psychological states like "intuition, inspiration, and extrasensory perception." For an evil art like Nanyang Jian Tou, which defies physical common sense, even deep hypnosis therapy proved entirely ineffective.

Therefore, we could only resort to the most ancient methods: placing Duoling in a hospital with advanced medical facilities and hiring a Thai sorcerer who had emigrated to the US to remove the enchantment for her. Simultaneously, we extensively gathered news about the "Earth Immortal's Ancient Tomb." I pondered that we shouldn't put all our eggs in one basket, so I also investigated whether other ancient tombs might contain the True Elixir; however, the formation of a "Dan Ding" within a corpse was exceptionally rare and hard to find. All inquiries yielded no leads.

Time flew by like an arrow, and the sun and moon were as sharp as a prism; winter passed, spring arrived, and half a year slipped by. Still waiting for the investigation results from Old Man Sun, it was suddenly summer, just in time for Professor Chen’s birthday celebration. I, along with Shirley Yang, Fatty, Da Jinya, Gu Cai, Uncle Ming, and the others, returned to the country to pay our respects for his birthday, and incidentally, to check on the progress of Old Man Sun’s inquiries.

That day, Professor Chen’s house was crowded with distinguished guests, inevitably involving a bustle of arrivals and departures. I estimated that Old Man Sun and Professor Chen were old friends, so out of courtesy, he should have been there, but he never appeared even after the banquet began.

Professor Chen was highly respected, with numerous relatives and friends. So many students he had taught came in waves. Although the atmosphere was lively, the scene appeared somewhat chaotic. Even though Professor Chen’s house was large, it couldn’t accommodate so many people.

Fatty, Da Jinya, and I were complete strangers to those academic types. Furthermore, the few of us had spent several months adventuring in America and considered ourselves seasoned travelers, no longer ordinary folk; we were even less inclined to pay attention to those domestic intellectuals, having no desire to socialize with them. We were happy to keep to ourselves, gathered around the innermost table, drinking and chatting nonsense in fits and starts.

Fatty had been feeling especially good about himself lately, frequently mocking the guests’ rustic attire. What era was this? Still wearing those ill-fitting Western suits? Not quite foreign, not quite native—it was embarrassing for Chinese people.

Uncle Ming said, "Are you serious, Fatty? At least the way they dress makes them look civilized. Your taste in clothing wasn't even as good as theirs before. Actually, your current..."

Hearing this, Fatty nearly slammed the wine bottle onto Uncle Ming’s head. Da Jinya quickly interjected, "Don't look down on Uncle Ming just because he’s from Hong Kong; his judgment is lacking. Before Hong Kong was ceded to the British by the Qing Dynasty, wasn't it just a seaside fishing village? We’ve all seen what fishermen wear. Besides, weren’t your own ancestors petty thieves from the mainland? But what kind of person is Fatty? He has the foundation of a high-ranking official’s lineage, born of a military family. No matter what he wears, that inherent air of distinction is unmatched. Even just wearing simple swim trunks, he looks profoundly contemplative."

Fatty cursed, "Old Jin, are you praising or insulting me? How can one look profound while wearing baggy shorts?"

I interjected, "Da Jinya isn't entirely wrong. Fatty, haven't you seen the sculpture of The Thinker? Isn't that fellow completely naked? You won't find anyone more profound than him anywhere in the world. Only the aura you, Wang Fatty, possess while dozing in the public bathhouse could compare to that fellow."

Uncle Ming grumbled, "You bunch of scoundrels, your ability to rewrite history surpasses even the Japanese..."

Just as everyone was babbling nonsense, Shirley Yang, supporting Professor Chen, approached our table to catch up. We all quickly stood up. Seeing him after several months, it seemed Professor Chen had acquired a few more wrinkles. I advised him, "Sir, you should rest now. The revolution has successors; at your age, you deserve to enjoy some peace at home."

Professor Chen chuckled, "Everyone sit, sit... It’s not time to step down yet. This old frame of mine still has some residual heat to offer. I am so delighted that you traveled thousands of miles to see this old fossil. You must have several drinks today. Little Hu, Little Fatty, are you getting used to life in America?"

Fatty said, "We're getting used to it, but we worry for them. Those big Americans, they’re just foolishly honest. The last time we ate at a Chinese restaurant, a big black man came in to eat. He pulled out a fish ball, chewed it, and it was quite bouncy. He gave a thumbs-up and shouted, but of course, he had no idea what he was eating. So he asked someone what this thing was. When the big black man finally found out, he was stunned, making a fuss, saying he never dreamed—that fish have testicles too! They are that dense, can you imagine why I worry for them?"

Professor Chen was momentarily stunned by Fatty’s story. Then Fatty continued, "Actually, thinking deeply about it, it’s not entirely their fault. My only virtue is that I love to learn too much. When I’m abroad with nothing to do, I like to study local history, to see how Western emerging capitalism achieved its success—how did they get so rich? Not studying was fine, but once I started researching, I jumped in shock: going back two hundred years, they were all just reclaiming wilderness!" Fatty misspoke, ready to launch into his views on Black Africa. Visit Quanzi Net for more.

Seeing the bad turn, I quickly stopped him, saying, "Wang Fatty, your rhetoric carries a tinge of racial discrimination. It might be okay to say back home, but definitely don't mention it in America. Besides, Asia, Africa, and Latin America are all in the same camp. Your father was a beggar when he was young—how many years have you had a full stomach? How can you forget your roots and discriminate against your class brothers in Black Africa?" Fatty, Da Jinya, and I immediately launched into a heated discussion about racial issues and the rise and fall of Western capitalism. We were so focused on the pleasure of arguing verbally that we completely neglected Professor Chen. Shirley Yang said to him, "Don't be angry, Sir. When these people get together, they never say anything serious."

Professor Chen smiled magnanimously, "That’s not entirely fair. Look at the issues they are discussing; they are still... still... still quite profound."

Shirley Yang gave me a meaningful look. I knew I had been rude, so I quickly extricated myself from the fray, leaving Fatty to battle Da Jinya and Uncle Ming. I pulled Gu Cai along, and we walked out to the courtyard with Shirley Yang and Professor Chen.

Professor Chen’s house was a single-family residence, quiet amidst the bustle, appearing exceptionally serene. Professor Chen patted Gu Cai’s head. He was also worried about Duoling and asked me about my future plans.

I dared not tell Professor Chen about Sun Xuewu’s matter, only saying that there had been some positive developments and he shouldn't worry.

Professor Chen told me, "If there is anything I can do to help, please don't hesitate to ask. I haven't had a chance to ask until now—what are your plans for the future in America?"

I said I hadn't had time to think carefully about the future recently. In the future, I would probably stick to my old trade: acquiring antiques in the US. Last time, we recovered so many green jade pieces from the South China Sea; when appraised in America, the sum made one dizzy. However, I was accustomed to a simple life in the army and now felt that so much money was useless. Even with a grand mansion at home, one only sleeps in one bed at night; even with mountains of gold and silver, one only eats one bowl of rice at a time.

Therefore, I hoped to use this money to establish a fund to support war orphans—no matter which country or ethnic group they belonged to—to live and study in a country far from the ravages of war.

Professor Chen repeatedly nodded in praise, "I didn't misjudge you back then; I am genuinely thrilled for you. Shirley Yang’s parents are gone, so I regard her as my own daughter. Entrusting her to you in the future puts this old man’s mind at ease. Let me add one more thing: you need to hurry up with the marriage; you can't keep delaying it."

I repeatedly agreed but impatiently wanted to steer the conversation back to Old Man Sun to inquire about his recent movements. Just then, Sun Xuewu entered hastily from the doorway carrying a box of longevity peaches. Professor Chen stepped forward and grasped his hand, "Shanshan, late arrival, you must drink three penalty cups." Without argument, he pulled Sun Xuewu into the living room.

Shirley Yang and I exchanged a glance, thinking the key figure had finally shown up. The expression on Professor Sun’s face when he saw us earlier was inscrutable; I didn't know if the matter had made any progress. We would have to pull him aside later to ask clearly.

It wasn't until after nine o'clock that the guests who came to celebrate Professor Chen’s birthday gradually dispersed, leaving the room filled with the wreckage of cups and plates. I asked Fatty and Da Jinya to help see off guests and clean up, while I found an opportunity to pull Sun Xuewu into Professor Chen’s study.

Impatiently, I asked, "Ninth Master, have you found out Commander Feng's hometown? Why the long delay?"