Chapter 865: Secrets

Inside the room.

Jialan glanced at An Qingyu and Chen Gou, who were still chatting outside, gently closed the door, and a white figure floated out from the ground, hovering beside her.

“Jialan Jie,” Jiang Er’s voice came through the earpiece in Jialan’s ear, “I just took a walk around here. This village has no electronic devices except for a few broken radios, not even a single mobile phone.”

Considering Jiang Er’s ghostly state was too frightening, and the idea of knocking on villagers’ doors in the middle of the night while carrying a coffin didn’t seem normal, An Qingyu had hidden Jiang Er’s coffin in a cave outside the village and borrowed a caregiver from Lin Qiye to protect the coffin, preventing any accidents with Jiang Er.

With Jiang Er’s current range of spiritual communication, even if the coffin was in the cave, she could still move freely within the fishing village through magnetic fields.

“It does seem a bit backward here,” Jialan remarked, her gaze sweeping over the dilapidated houses, finally resting on a wall that had lost its paint.

On that gray-brown wall hung several old-fashioned picture frames, each containing slightly yellowed old photographs. The background was along the coastline of this fishing village, where a middle-aged man was happily smiling while holding a few large fish, accompanied by a boy around seven or eight years old.

The middle-aged man in the photo was the younger version of the fisherman named Chen Gou outside.

“He doesn’t look that old in the photo, does he?” Jiang Er pondered, “His son should be in his twenties now, right?”

“About that.”

Jialan shifted her gaze from the photo and began to examine other details of the room.

While helping out, Jiang Er hesitated for a moment before curiously speaking up, “Jialan Jie…”

“Yes?”

“I heard that you and Qiye collapsed the bed last night?”

“Cough cough cough…”

Upon hearing this, Jialan nearly choked, breaking into a fit of coughing.

“No… it’s not what you think,” Jialan’s cheeks flushed red as she stammered, “We did collapse the bed, but… but we didn’t do anything!”

Jiang Er subtly glanced at Jialan’s legs, “Hmm, I can tell.”

Jialan’s face turned even redder.

Seeing Jialan like this, Jiang Er’s lips curled into a slight smile. After hesitating for a moment, she tentatively asked, “But Jialan Jie… isn’t that a bit inappropriate?”

“Mm?”

“I mean… the Divine Ruins are still the Divine Ruins. Even if ‘Pseudo-Love’ can make others feel intense affection, that love is ultimately false,” Jiang Er said seriously. “Even if you hit Qiye with the arrow of love, his affection will eventually fade. This kind of forced love… is not advisable.”

Jialan looked at Jiang Er’s serious expression and blinked, a hint of a smile appearing in her gem-like black eyes.

She gently walked over to Jiang Er, lowered her voice, and said mysteriously:

“Actually…”

After a brief whisper, Jiang Er’s mouth fell open in surprise as she looked at her.

“So you actually…”

“Shh!” Jialan made a gesture for silence, smiling as she said, “Don’t tell anyone about this, okay? His thick-headedness is finally starting to make sense; if you say it out loud, it won’t work anymore!”

Jiang Er nodded vigorously, “Don’t worry, Jialan Jie!”

Jialan nodded in satisfaction, just as she was about to open the door and step out, her peripheral vision caught something, and she stopped.

She squinted slightly, staring at the old photo at the edge of the wall. In the corners of this father-son photo, two names were scrawled in a crooked manner, along with pinyin, likely written by a child just learning to write.

On the left side, next to the middle-aged man, it read “Chen gou (third tone).”

On the right side, next to the laughing child, the same crooked handwriting spelled out two characters:

— Chen Lu.

…

Night Watch Headquarters.

Interrogation Room.

In a dark and damp small room, an elderly man with silver hair was imprisoned in the center, his eyes tightly closed, his expression solemn and tranquil. In front of him stood a man with a fierce face, emanating a cold, ghostly aura.

“Chen Lu, I advise you not to be ungrateful!” the man spoke ominously. “I respect you as a hero of the Night Watch from back in the day and have given you enough face; don’t force my hand!”

The old man’s eyes slightly opened, gazing at the man for a moment before breaking into a gentle smile.

“You’re Tan Maoxun, right? I remember you. When I was the chief instructor at the training camp, you performed quite well. It was my suggestion that led you down this path…”

Tan Maoxun’s eyes flickered, his fierce expression freezing on his face. He opened his mouth as if to say something harsh, but he couldn’t find the words.

“Kid… there’s no need to be nervous or feel offended. Let me see how much you’ve grown over the years,” the old man said warmly. “Come on, use your most confident methods and see if you can pry my mouth open to get what you want.”

Tan Maoxun gritted his teeth, hesitating for a moment before the ghostly aura erupted around him again.

“Alright, then let me show you…”

He suddenly reached out and pressed his hand against the old man’s chest, the ghostly light surging into the old man’s body like a stabbing force, a hint of madness appearing in his eyes.

The old man’s body was completely engulfed by the ghostly light. He trembled as the ghostly spikes pierced his skin at an astonishing frequency, causing him to furrow his brow slightly, his expression pained… but that was all.

“Speak! Where is the ‘Mask’ team? What do you want to do?!” Tan Maoxun shouted.

Under the torment of the intense pain, the old man’s aged cheeks trembled, a smile appearing on his face as he said slowly, “Not bad, you’ve improved a lot compared to back then… no wonder you’re my student.”

Tan Maoxun’s pupils constricted sharply.

His chest heaved violently, a fierce look in his eyes, and the ghostly light continued to pour into the old man’s body.

Yet the old man remained smiling amidst the ghostly light, his eyes filled with approval, showing no intention of saying anything more.

“Enough!”

Zuo Qing’s voice came from outside the interrogation room. The ghostly light around Tan Maoxun paused, retreating back into his body like a receding tide. He stepped back two paces, respectfully bowing slightly to Zuo Qing.

“Commander Zuo…”

Zuo Qing walked in from outside, frowning as he looked at the smiling silver-haired elder, his fists clenching tightly.

“Why did you stop?” the old man said leisurely, “If you can’t get anything out of this, why not switch to someone else?”