I Forged the Myth of the Ancient Overlords
Chapter 120 - 120 119. Spirit Shed_1

Chapter 120: 119. Spirit Shed_1 Chapter 120: 119. Spirit Shed_1 Early in the morning, a ray of golden sunlight pierced through the gap in the curtains and fell onto Lu Ban’s face.

Sweet singing filled the room; the melody of “Unforgettable Tonight” was so captivating that even the shadow at the bedside seemed to nod its head, enjoying the music.

Lu Ban opened his eyes and saw an eyeball next to his pillow watching him.

The eyeball, attached at the end to a large clump of hair, quickly retreated into the corner of the bed and disappeared.

Yawning, Lu Ban didn’t go back to sleep but sat up instead.

After washing up, he went downstairs to buy breakfast, stepped into the elevator, and suddenly thought of last night’s events.

“I wonder how that old man is doing.”

When he reached the ground floor, he found several workers setting up a tent.

It was a funeral tent, usually facing south at the entrance, and in some places, they would even set up feasts and play all-night-long mahjong, but in Jiangcheng, which is rather urbanized, the tent only occupied a few parking spaces.

Smelling the strong scent of burning incense, Lu Ban curiously looked at the portrait inside the tent.

“…”

In the portrait was the old man he had encountered the previous night.

“So, he was already gone last night?”

Lu Ban casually inquired and learned that the old man had been over seventy years old and had not woken up after going to bed last night; he passed away peacefully and painlessly.

“Let me light some incense for the old man,” Lu Ban said to the family.

“And you are?”

The deceased’s family member seemed still in shock, with deep dark circles under their eyes.

“I live on the thirteenth floor, and I’ve seen your father a couple of times,” Lu Ban said truthfully.

The family member didn’t stop him, after all, they were neighbors.

After offering incense to the old man and paying his respects, Lu Ban raised his head.

He saw the old man clinging upside down to the top of the funeral tent, sprawling on the dark fabric, watching Lu Ban.

“Did your father have a habit of hanging upside down on walls?” Lu Ban suddenly asked, causing the family member, a woman, to start and instinctively look up towards where his gaze was directed.

“Are you kidding me?” she said, somewhat bewildered.

“Is there a cabinet or some kind of box near your ceiling?” Lu Ban asked again.

“I’m not sure about that…” the woman mumbled, as if something had come to her mind.

“We do actually have a cabinet that hasn’t been opened for a long time.”

“Maybe you should take some time to open that cabinet, there might be an unexpected find,” Lu Ban didn’t explain much further and, after one last look at the old man on the ceiling, he stepped out of the tent.

While having his breakfast, Lu Ban also browsed the news.

How many strange things were there in the city of Jiangcheng, Lu Ban wasn’t sure.

He had been studying here for several years and had never encountered anything like this before.

But since coming to the Silent Lands, Lu Ban had encountered many things he had never seen before.

After some research, Lu Ban felt that there might really be something wrong with Jiangcheng.

The area had always been a strategic military location, rife with conflicts, and the number of people who had died there was certainly much higher than in the average city.

Moreover, with the layout of places like the Jiangcheng Grand Theater, which could attract great beings from the distant depths of space, it was hard not to speculate about something.

“It’s not possible that there is something buried beneath Jiangcheng.”

Having finished breakfast, Lu Ban returned home to continue working.

He was mainly organizing the storyline and finalizing the ending for the whole film these past few days.

Some classmates might ask, since all the materials are there, why bother with an outline, why not just string the materials together and upload it?

Actually, that’s not how it works.

Editing, storyboarding, and plot advancement are as important in a movie as the script and actors.

Some movies are mediocre in their first cut but become amazing after the director’s editing, while others, with dazzling special effects and incredible plot, are ruined by flashy editing that leaves the audience completely confused.

Lu Ban didn’t need such advanced skills, as his movie was essentially a thriller-adventure genre with a tragic ending; highlighting the key elements was enough.

In the evening, Lu Ban stretched, stood up from the computer, and prepared to go downstairs for dinner.

Just then, his phone rang.

Looking at the caller ID, it was his old squad leader, Feng Yu.

“Hello?”

Lu Ban answered the phone.

“Are you alright? I saw the news today; they caught the serial killer yesterday, and it seems to have happened right by where you live.”

Feng Yu’s voice sounded somewhat worried.

“No problem, I actually helped catch that serial killer. He snuck into my house, and I caught him red-handed, the police colleagues all praised me for my bravery.”

Lu Ban told the truth.

“Haha, really? Then you’re quite amazing.”

Feng Yu chuckled, but it was clear she didn’t quite believe Lu Ban’s words.

“By the way, you said in your message you were gathering material. Are you still working?”

“I’ve already collected it.”

“So you’re going to release a new video?”

“Pretty much, but it’s not finished yet.”

Lu Ban glanced at his editing software.

“That’s too bad. I was thinking of taking advantage of the Mid-Autumn Festival to have dinner or something.”

Feng Yu said offhandedly.

“Aren’t you going home for Mid-Autumn?”

Lu Ban remembered that Feng Yu didn’t seem to be from Jiangcheng.

“No, going home means my mom will arrange blind dates for me; it’s such a hassle.”

Frustration laced Feng Yu’s voice.

“You can hide from the first day, but not from the fifteenth.”

Lu Ban replied earnestly.

“…Do you have time to come out during Mid-Autumn?”

Feng Yu was taken aback for a moment before she forcibly changed the subject.

“Mid-Autumn might not work, but the national holiday should be okay.”

After a symbolic glance at the calendar, Lu Ban answered.

He valued continuity in his work, and by October, his movie would likely be finished.

“How about we make a date for the national holiday, have a meal and catch a movie or something?”

“Sure.”

Lu Ban thought it over; since the old squad leader had extended such a sincere invitation, he had no reason to decline. After all, it was just a meal, and it wouldn’t cost him an arm and a leg.

The two chatted idly for a while longer before Lu Ban hung up.

As he put on his shoes and went downstairs, he saw that the wake was already playing mournful music and the chants of Buddhist rituals were audible.

Looking inside, Lu Ban didn’t spot the old man, but he noticed the old man’s daughter seeing him and brightening up before quickly coming over.

“I went home at noon and opened the closet to take a look; it was all the old man’s stuff.”

Her expression was tinged with sadness as she took out a stack of items from her embrace.

“It’s the bankbooks and property deeds, right?”

Lu Ban asked out of curiosity.

“Not exactly…”

The woman showed Lu Ban the stack of items.

They were photographs.

Old, yellowed photographs.

There was a young couple dressed in the fashionable clothes of their era, full of life and beauty.

There were also family portraits of a couple with a small child, as well as various travel and daily life pictures.

But from a certain point on, the wife was no longer in the pictures, leaving only the man and the girl.

Flipping to the back, almost all the photos were of a chubby, adorable little girl. The photos spanned her infancy, childhood, and student years, and simply through these snapshots, one could feel the photographer’s love for the girl.

It was clear that the man in the pictures was the old gentleman.

“My dad, he always had a terrible temper and didn’t like talking to us. I thought he resented us, but I never expected…”

The daughter’s spirits were low, and it was unclear if discovering these things only after her father’s death was a stroke of luck or misfortune.

“How can there be parents who resent their own children?”

Lu Ban smiled, waved goodbye to the woman.

Next to her, the stooped figure of the old man stood in the sunset, their shadows overlapping. Just like in the photographs, where the man with sad eyes forcibly smiled, holding onto his own daughter.

It was like that moment back then, just as it was at this very moment.