Even if the Feng family was willing to wait, they couldn't afford to. Pan Du had already had an accident. If they didn't resolve this matter as soon as possible, who knew who would be next.

Moreover, Jiang Cheng didn't quite trust Luohe's guess. Even if they could solve this haunting, Pan Du might not be able to be saved.

To take a step back, even if he was really rescued, who could guarantee that the Pan Du who woke up would be the same person he once was.

Instead of some strange thing, borrowing Pan Du's body to be reborn.

In a daze, Jiang Cheng suddenly remembered the recording from before, the one Luohe had released. It contained the voice of Na Ru Hu, who had disappeared long ago.

Na Ru Hu's voice sounded extremely miserable. He wailed in pain, begging something to return his skin.

Without a doubt, that thing was a ghost.

The ghost that annihilated Na Ru Hu and his group, and almost wiped out the Feng family.

It was ironic that this ghost was actually released by the Feng family themselves.

But even now, everyone still couldn't understand how much hatred that ghost had for the Feng family. As it stood, the Feng family had only sent him away.

Within this… there seemed to be many unknown secrets hidden.

Looking back, from where they stood, they could just make out a corner of the Feng residence. The tall, light gray wall stood there, as if separating two different eras.

Since ancient times, stories that occurred in grand mansions had always been shrouded in a sad and desolate hue. He had felt this way in the Song Dynasty instance, and here, he felt the same way again.

Staying inside the Feng residence, the atmosphere was so oppressive due to the ghost's presence that it was almost suffocating, so everyone tacitly agreed not to go back, but instead walked aimlessly along the street.

Having just arrived in this world, everyone hadn't fully adapted yet. The atmosphere, so different from modern society, created a huge sense of tearing for them.

It actually gave them a somewhat unreal illusion.

Although the war had been won, the eyes of the passersby were still filled with confusion. The pain and shadows left by the brutal war would take time to slowly smooth over.

After walking for a while, the area became less bustling. Sparse stalls were set up on both sides, mostly run by gray-haired old people and children in rough clothes, covered in dirt.

Traces of gunfire remained on the walls on both sides, along with a lot of wood and bricks that had been burned black. Further away, there were ruins and rubble.

The flames of war had also burned this land. Everything before their eyes was a bloody history, even more shocking than any documentary or so-called fully realistic account.

In front of a building that had been bombed, leaving only the frame, a square of cloth was spread out. The cloth was dirty, as if it had been picked up from somewhere, and its original color was almost unrecognizable.

Some small handicrafts and woven dolls were displayed on the cloth. Several Eastern women sat around the cloth, one of them holding a child.

Perhaps because of hunger, the child cried incessantly, and all the woman could do was comfort it in a low voice.

She herself couldn't even get enough to eat, so how could she have milk to feed the child?

Upon witnessing this scene, Fatty stopped in his tracks, then slowly shook his head.

"Do you feel sorry for them?" Jiang Cheng glanced at the women, then turned to look at Fatty, his tone as calm as ever.

But to Jiang Cheng's slight surprise, the kind-hearted Fatty shook his head for once, and said firmly, "No."

He was silent for a few seconds, then continued, "I used to feel sorry for them too, but who felt sorry for us? They still have a chance here, a chance to live, but what about our brothers and sisters, those compatriots who were killed by them? Who felt sorry for them?"

"People have to learn to pay the price for their actions. There's no such thing as burying the hatchet with a smile. The fact that they're still alive now is the greatest mercy."

Hearing this, Jiang Cheng took a deep breath and sighed, "What a pity."

"What a pity…" Fatty turned his big head, looking at Jiang Cheng with a strange expression, not knowing what he was up to.

He wouldn't have guessed that Jiang Cheng had originally intended to use this opportunity to educate him, but Fatty's answer left him with nothing to criticize, so he had to give up.

Just as they were leaving, a song came from behind them, a song full of sorrow, carried by the wind, with a hint of ethereal illusion.

Even though it was performed in another language, one could still hear the singer's pain, but what made everyone stop, and even widen their eyes in shock, was something else.

They recognized the song.

No, it was the melody of this song.

It was exactly the same as the music in the background of Na Ru Hu's painful wails in the recording.

With just a few steamed buns, they easily learned the name of the song from a few of the women—"Sakura's Fall" (Ying Zhi Luo).

Regarding this song, there was also a background story in their culture, which said that if you did something you regretted, or hurt someone, then during the season when cherry blossoms fell, you should personally weave a straw doll, and then place the straw doll under a cherry tree.

After a rain, when the cherry blossoms had all fallen, if the straw doll also disappeared, then it would mean that the gods had accepted your request.

The gods would give you a chance to make up for your past mistakes or regrets, of course, in a confusing dream.

As long as your heart was sincere enough, then when you woke up from the dream, everything would become reality.

The person you once loved deeply would change their mind and start over with you, the things you once did wrong would be made up for, and even… your dead relatives would reappear in front of you when you woke up, smiling and greeting you, just like before.

But the woman also said that this god was not as friendly as it seemed. He mostly treated human requests with a playful attitude.

If your performance in the dream wasn't satisfactory, or even angered him, then he would trap you in the dream forever.

To accompany him in atoning for your actions.

What's more, he might even put on your clothes, dress up exactly like you, and then live as you, bewitching your relatives and friends.

After saying all this, the woman seemed to feel that these things were difficult for these foreigners to understand.

At the same time, she was even more worried that these people would think she was spreading rumors and would turn on her, so she added in a dry voice that these were just legends, and shouldn't be taken seriously.

Probably… probably they could only be considered as some kind of expectation of people.

Regret was regret, unchangeable, irreparable, that's what constituted regret, and gods could only exist in myths and legends.

But Jiang Cheng and the others obviously didn't take this as a myth, because they knew that, at least in some ways, ghosts could also be considered a kind of god.