If a woman of ordinary means had heard him say that, she would have certainly called the police, but thankfully, Madame Rabinovich was Russian.

I quickly pushed O’Dain aside and entered the room, explaining to Madame Rabinovich, "I apologize; these are my friends. They are new to this place and have nowhere to stay."

Clearly, Madame Rabinovich did not understand my words, but seeing my gestures, she seemed to grasp the situation. She rose, offered a slight smile, and gestured for us to sit down first.

After we were seated, she spoke a phrase in Russian to us before turning and walking back into the kitchen.

Moments later, she emerged carrying a tray laden with food—boiled potatoes, venison stew, and other dishes—which she arranged meticulously on the table.

O’Dain, inhaling the aroma of the food, could no longer restrain himself, exclaiming, "Your Uncle Xiong has been starved these past few days!" He immediately reached out with his hand to grab the meat from the bowl.

I sharply jabbed him with the wooden fork I found on the table, remarking, "The hostess hasn't sat down yet; what's your hurry?"

O’Dain shot me a glare and retorted, "You know nothing! The old lady just said we should eat first."

It suddenly struck me that O’Dain could actually understand Russian, even if he wasn't fluent in speaking it.

However, his behavior was entirely impolite, so I told him, "That still won't do. We must wait until Madame Rabinovich is seated."

O’Dain, unable to win the argument, reluctantly lowered his hand and rested his chin in his palm, waiting.

A short while later, Madame Rabinovich finished serving all the dishes and took her seat. O’Dain immediately seized a piece of boiled potato and began devouring it with gusto.

After he managed to swallow the scalding potato, I addressed him, "Dain, this is the first time I've found you truly useful. Ask her for me: where are Mr. Andre and BEY?"

O’Dain frowned, questioning, "Who are you talking about?"

I replied, "Don't worry about it; just ask her."

O’Dain nodded, grabbed another piece of rye bread, and while chewing, spoke a sentence to the elderly woman in Russian.

He then turned back to me, saying, "I studied the standard Moscow dialect, and there’s still quite a gap with the regional languages of Siberia. I don't know if she'll understand."

As soon as she finished speaking, Madame Rabinovich replied with a smile.

After hearing her response, O’Dain informed me, "She said that after Mr. Andre returned, the villagers invited him to give a lecture at the town's only school. Her husband has gone out to sea to fish for cod and should be back this evening. As for BEY, he had urgent matters and returned to Moscow overnight; he probably won't be back until after the New Year."

I nodded and told O’Dain, "Ask her where that school is so we can pay Mr. Andre a visit this afternoon."

The old woman answered me after hearing the request: "That school is next to the central cross-square of the village. That’s also the only marketplace in the town. If you go, please bring back some coriander and wild ginger for her; she will make us fish soup tonight."

With that, the old woman handed me a *note for 100 rubles.

100 rubles is worth about fifteen or sixteen RMB; prices here are quite low, so it should be more than enough.

After that, we exchanged no more words. We finished eating quickly and headed out.

According to Madame Rabinovich, we only needed to walk along the street away from the harbor, and we would quickly find the market.

Indeed, the four of us walked at a post-meal strolling pace, taking only about twenty minutes.

On the way, we observed the witch doctor’s building, but there seemed to be nothing unusual; it appeared Jie Yuting had truly left.

The market in the center of the village was organized spontaneously by the local residents. It was situated at the intersection of two main roads, forming a circular plaza surrounded by two-story wooden pavilion-style buildings—the lower level housing various shops and the upper level reserved for residences.

The majority were taverns and eateries; the rest sold furs and hides, herbs, various spices, fabrics, and even horses—lending it a distinctly archaic feel.

In the very center of the circular plaza stood a stone pillar, about three meters high, shaped vaguely like a pencil. It was entirely covered in incomprehensible symbols, some resembling horns, others ox heads, all inlaid with red pigment.

O’Dain informed me this was a 'stockade pillar' of the Witch Sect, inscribed with glyphs of their tongue.

I recalled the similar stockade pillars used by the Wa people in Yunnan, which served as places for offerings to pray for favorable weather, places outsiders were forbidden to approach casually.

Out of courtesy, I instructed everyone to keep a respectful distance from the object.

O’Dain inquired among the surrounding villagers in Russian and soon located the schoolhouse.

What was called a schoolhouse was actually another structure converted from a church.

It was possibly the only building in the village constructed of stone, featuring a vaulted ceiling, a rounded archway, and stained-glass clerestory windows. However, the cross on the roof was already half-collapsed.

Upon entering, we saw fifty or sixty people seated in rows of benches, predominantly young individuals, all gazing intently and respectfully at Andre on the platform.

Andre was speaking with great animation, earning waves of applause from the audience.

Seeing us enter, Andre paused briefly, nodded at me in acknowledgment, and then resumed his lecture.

We didn't want to interrupt him, so we found a corner to sit ourselves and listened quietly to his speech.

At this point, Liang Qian beside me asked, "Who is this man? How do you know him?"

I smiled faintly and replied, "This man is a famous Russian paleontologist who is actually over one hundred and twenty years old. You hadn't noticed?"

Liang Qian gasped, admitting she truly hadn't recognized him.

Following this, I recounted to the three of them the story of how I met Andre, how I was captured by Jie Yuting, and the dangers we faced on Relic Island.

When I spoke of hearing Andre discuss my origins, I deliberately glanced at O’Dain and *; sure enough, they both looked utterly surprised and bewildered.

After I finished my entire narrative, O’Dain and * fell silent.

Liang Qian was the first to question me, "That doesn't add up. I am the descendant of the Wei people; how can you...?"

I shook my head and said, "I now suspect that the person interred in the Wei King's sarcophagus we found beneath Black Bamboo Gully might not have been a Wei person at all, but someone substituted later. Furthermore, the contents of the Wei King silk manuscript must be forged, because the Lingyu Temple didn't originate in the Tang Dynasty; it existed as early as the Qin Dynasty."

Liang Qian nodded slowly, stating, "That is indeed plausible. I discovered the same anomaly beneath Lop Nur."

She paused, then added, "However, these facts alone don't prove I am not a Wei descendant, given that the successive Wei Kings have indeed all carried the surname Liang."

I frowned and asked, "How do you know that?"