A stranger.
This was An Chen's first thought.
Although Nancheng has a very large population, and a significant portion of it consists of outsiders, this area in Nancheng is considered a semi-old town. The population mobility is not strong, and migrant workers rarely come here.
He had almost memorized every person active in this area, but at this moment, the young man in his twenties before him did not belong to any face in his memory.
This was not a rare occurrence, but his strange attire made An Chen instinctively raise his guard.
“Cosplay…?”
An Chen frowned, muttering to himself in a low voice.
He was quite into the role; even ‘Fellow Daoist’ came out.
“Yong'an Road, Nancheng Second Middle School.”
While answering, An Chen scrutinized the person in front of him from head to toe.
The hair coiled at the back of his head had a good texture, and the color of the roots was slightly different from the strands, suggesting it was real hair.
And that long gown was clearly not a cosplay costume bought from Taobao; it was evident at a glance that it was clothing worn by someone for a long time.
An Chen finally looked at the cloth shoes, and to his surprise, they were still stained with mud.
Did this guy jump around in a green belt?
“Yong'an Road? Is this in the city? Which great city is this?”
An Chen was about to answer when a car suddenly drove past him. An Chen keenly noticed a fleeting, almost imperceptible surprise flash in the man's eyes.
“What Magical Artifact is this… It doesn’t have a trace of spiritual Qi.”
He muttered to himself in a low voice, but An Chen still heard him.
“Nancheng, that’s a car.”
“Are you saying Nanzhou? It’s that far… What I want to know is, which city in Nanzhou is this?”
“This is Nancheng.”
“Nancheng? Never heard of it…”
The man's eyes showed confusion and thoughtfulness.
“How can this be… how can this be…”
An Chen felt the same.
He stared intently into the man's eyes, trying to find something unusual, but failed.
He had originally thought the man was just a chuunibyou teenager, or someone trying to prank passersby, but the man's micro-expressions were perfect, without a single flaw.
An Chen had read some books on micro-expressions and psychology, so judging whether someone was lying was not difficult for him.
This man was not faking it at all.
He was genuinely confused.
“How could this be…”
This time, it was An Chen’s turn to be confused.
If the man in front of him wasn't faking it, then why would he show his current expression, and why would he say those strange things?
The most improbable possibility emerged.
This person was a “Transcendents” from a novel.
Although he believed from the bottom of his heart that those online readings had no nutritional value, An Chen had read many novels, at least the beginnings.
He had once thought of making money from this, but he was not old enough to sign a contract.
All the novel knowledge he had learned became useless.
But the current scene was a very typical novel opening.
Transmigration, another world, confusion…
This was the most likely conclusion An Chen reached after analyzing the situation.
But this was too absurd.
The man in front of him paused in thought, one hand hanging naturally, the other stroking his chin, the hanging hand resting on the sword suspended at his waist.
An Chen analyzed his movements and concluded that this was a habit.
Dangerous.
Seeing that the man didn't seem to be paying attention to him, An Chen quietly shifted his feet and walked past him.
An Chen looked back and found that the man wasn't paying attention, so he quickened his steps and left in a hurry.
“The spiritual Qi is so thin, is this really the Kyushu Continent? Strange…”
After An Chen left, the man continued to mutter to himself, only realizing after more than ten seconds that the passerby he had just found had run away.
He then looked at another student not far away.
“Fellow Daoist, where is this place?”
The student who was asked was startled, pointed to himself, then looked around, and after confirming that there was no one else around him, he pondered for two seconds.
Many possibilities flashed through the student's mind, and he suddenly thought of something, seemingly enlightened. He suddenly patted his chest and said loudly:
“This is my beloved alma mater! Nancheng Second Middle School was founded in 1982 and is one of the best high schools in Nancheng. Its annual college entrance examination rankings are among the top in the city…”
This must be the school's test for me!
Which student can't stand such a test!
The long-gowned man: “???”
...
His home was not far from the school. An Chen walked all the way to his doorstep before finally figuring out a fact.
Not everything has a reason.
What a person thinks in his mind does not necessarily mean the truth, but rather the person's subjective cognition.
Sometimes things are not that complicated.
An Chen possessed powerful deduction and calculation abilities, but he was also troubled by this ability.
He would think a lot, whether it was meaningful or not.
That man was most likely just a madman.
An Chen changed his shoes, walked to the dining table not far from the entrance, put down his schoolbag, took out a bag of instant noodles from a nearby cabinet, tore open the packaging, walked into the kitchen, threw it into the pot, filled it with the appropriate amount of water as usual, and turned on the gas stove to cook the noodles.
What he cooked wasn't instant noodles, but instant noodle cakes. You could buy a whole box of these for thirty yuan, dozens of noodle cakes. After cooking, just add some soy sauce and eat.
When An Chen was at his poorest, he survived for a month on this stuff.
While waiting for the noodles to cook, An Chen looked at the tens of square meters of the house and let out a faint sigh.
It was another day he wanted to sell the house.
But this house was left by his alcoholic father before he disappeared. He had no right to sell it, and it was the only thing his mother, who had already formed a new family and was somewhere unknown, left him.
He even wished that his alcoholic father had died; that way, he could sell the house with a clear conscience.
So much so that even if others asked him where his father went, he would reply, “He got drunk and was hit by a car and died.”
An Chen slowly walked towards the toilet, preparing to use it before the noodles were ready, but just as he reached the toilet door, An Chen stopped.
Looking at the half-open door and the bloodstains spreading to the doorway, An Chen's pupils suddenly contracted.
Before leaving home, he had closed all the doors.
Raising his gaze again, An Chen discovered a figure half-lying by the toilet.
“Ying…”
The person whimpered from his throat, turned his head, and seemed to use all his strength to open his eyes into a slit.
“Fellow Daoist… save me…”
An Chen: “?”