Wen Yile left.

He left me with a baffling sentence and departed with a flourish, without even turning his head.

I sat where I was and poured myself a glass of wine, saying, "If you want to drink, bring your own cup. I don't have any empty cups here."

When Ye Yang walked in from outside, he brought not only a cup but also a bottle of wine.

Ye Yang is different from me. I grew up in the village as a child and in the mountains as a teenager, so I'm not so particular. As long as it's something used by someone I know well, he wouldn't mind, and I'd just pick it up and use it.

But Ye Yang never touches other people's things, and he doesn't allow others to touch his things either.

I can understand him bringing a cup. But why did he bring a bottle of wine? Even more interesting, he even pulled out a bag of peanuts.

Ye Yang pushed the peanuts forward and poured himself a drink!

He's not drinking my wine, and he's not planning to eat my dishes?

What kind of trick is this?

I ignored what Ye Yang was thinking and poured myself a drink: "What do you think about what Wen Yile said?"

Ye Yang said, "I think we should go see that eight-foot old man. I can't understand this coffin brought back from Xiaoshan Village."

"Logically speaking, there should be E Shun's remains in this coffin, but the compass in the middle doesn't seem like a place to store remains."

"Think about it again, which immortal figure in Investiture of the Gods used a compass?"

What Ye Yang said made me realize something was wrong!

The most common thing in *Investiture of the Gods* is: "A whim arises, and he calculates with his fingers." At that time, there really was no mention of a compass.

The compass should have truly taken shape around the Tang Dynasty. Ancient sorcerers didn't use compasses.

In other words, the Greed Wolf Coffin didn't originate from the *Investiture of the Gods* era. Even if there really are E Shun's remains inside, someone must have moved the coffin later.

I frowned and said, "What about the text in the coffin? Isn't that ancient writing?"

Ye Yang said, "That's why I find it strange. Did you notice the attitude of the ancestral master?"

"What attitude are you talking about?" Although I was talking to Black and White Impermanence at the time, I didn't notice anything unusual about them.

Ye Yang shook his head before saying, "I brought out the Greed Wolf Coffin to try and see if I could exchange it with the ancestral master for some lifespan."

"At that time, the two ancestral masters glanced at the coffin, and Eighth Master shook his head. I think he saw something, but he didn't say anything."

"Someone has to unravel the mystery of this coffin."

I thought of White Impermanence's abnormality at the time and also felt that the Greed Wolf Coffin was a bit strange: "Then we'll go to Fengshui Street tomorrow to take a look."

The next morning, when Ye Yang and I arrived at Fengshui Street, it hadn't recovered its vitality. The whole street was still deserted, with only a few shops open.

According to Wen Yile, after walking eighty steps forward from the entrance of the street, my heart sank slightly.

My eightieth step couldn't possibly reach the front of an open shop. Who am I going to ask for information?

What I didn't expect was that after my eightieth step, I inexplicably stood in front of a shop.

I looked back at Ye Yang and whispered, "Is this eighty steps?"

"Yes!" Ye Yang lowered his voice and said, "But it's a distance of one hundred and twenty steps."

I understood what Ye Yang meant. He was saying that we had clearly walked eighty steps, but the place where we landed was where we should have walked one hundred and twenty steps.

Did someone use the secret method of "shrinking the earth into inches" on us, or did someone put some kind of restriction on this street?

After Ye Yang and I looked at each other, we walked into the paper goods store directly opposite us one after the other: "Boss, I'm looking for a coffin shop called Eight-Foot Hall."

The boss scratched his head: "What Eight-Foot Hall? Are you kidding me? Where is there such a place on Fengshui Street?"

I took out a stack of large bills and placed them on the counter: "Is this enough to ask for information?"

The boss said with embarrassment: "Money is a good thing, but I really don't know where there's an Eight-Foot Hall!"

I took out another stack of money and slammed it on the table: "This…"

"Young man, look at the trouble you're causing." The boss rubbed his hands and said, "If I knew, wouldn't I tell you? Who hates money!"

I slammed the third stack of banknotes on the table: "You really don't know?"

"I…" The boss didn't finish his words when the old man sitting inside the counter making paper figures opened his mouth: "There is no Eight-Foot Hall here, but there is an eight-foot coffin."

The boss turned his head and said, "Dad, is there really such a place on Fengshui Street?"

"There is!" The old man lit a cigarette and said, "This matter has to start from when Fengshui Street wasn't renamed. At that time, it was called Ghost Street. That was the name of Fengshui Street before the founding of the country."

I couldn't help but be slightly taken aback. The name before the founding of the country?

That is to say, the Eight-Foot Coffin Shop has existed for at least seventy or eighty years.

The owner of the paper goods store looks to be in his fifties, and he doesn't know about the Eight-Foot Hall. Doesn't this mean that the coffin shop has long disappeared?

Or, it never existed.