The Human History of Those Gods: A Continuous Stream

The guide Wang Lantian arranged for Sun Wuliang was a local man in his early twenties named Yang Bo. He used to be a tour guide and now worked in sales for Wang Lantian's company. It must be admitted, though, that Shi He was a very reliable person, reliable to the point of being impeccable.

But it was precisely this impeccable composure that made Sun Wuliang dislike Shi He. He always felt that Shi He was like an AI or a lizard, too perfect and therefore unreal. He had never seen Shi He lose his composure, laugh loudly, get angry, become impatient, swear, or show affection, as if he had attained enlightenment after leaving the mortal world.

After a bumpy ride, we arrived in Qibei Town at 11 p.m.

The night was bleak, the lights were scattered, and the occasional bark of a dog made everything seem unreal.

Qibei Town, built along the mountainside, is not large. According to the data prepared by Shi He, the town covers an area of ​​only 1.1 square kilometers. The town has two main streets arranged in a cross shape, with more than 80% of the buildings scattered along both sides of the main streets. Yang Bo asked Sun Wuliang if he wanted to eat first, but Sun Wuliang shook his head: "Let's find a place to stay first."

According to Yangbo, the largest hotel in town is called Qibei Hotel, which was converted from an old state-owned hotel. Because of the increasing number of backpackers in recent years, it was renovated, with glass curtain walls and light boxes installed. Perhaps because it was so late, the lobby of Qibei Hotel was empty, and even the air conditioning wasn't on; the chill of early spring filled the entire space.

Yangbo put down his luggage and went to the counter to call for help. A little while later, a sleepy-eyed girl came out. She was wearing a white cotton nightgown with red flowers over her uniform and was barefoot in a pair of plastic slippers.

"How many rooms?" The girl's voice trembled slightly from the cold.

Yangbo turned to look at Sun Wuliang, "Two rooms, one double room and one standard room."

"We're out of double rooms." The girl tossed two room keys out from the counter. "Deposit 1000."

"Hey sis, could you help me check if there's a young man named Liang Song living here?" Yang Bo struck up a conversation with him familiarly during the break while they were doing the paperwork.

"I can't find out." The girl yawned, clearly wanting to go back to sleep early.

"I'm a local, I know everyone. Aren't you An Nengya's second daughter? We even went to the same school when we were kids. Besides, I've already spoken to your Manager Song, and he told me to come and find Zhao Dongmei. But it's not appropriate to look for her at this hour, so just investigate for me."

The girl glanced at Sun Wuliang. "I don't remember you. Which school are you from? I said I can't find out, and I really can't." Despite saying that, she still tapped the computer screen, and the screen lit up.

The girl's fingers tapped on the computer keyboard as she asked, "What's the name of the person you're looking for? Liang... Song... Song from the Song Dynasty, right...? No, let me look back for you, um, no..."

Although it was expected, Sun Wuliang was still a little disappointed. He went back to his room, put down his equipment, washed his face, and the air conditioner was very noisy, making the whole room rumble. After lying down for a while, he knocked on Yang Bo's door. Yang Bo was still awake. "Yang Bo, how about we go out for a walk again? Maybe we didn't stay here after we came down the mountain, but stayed somewhere else..."

Sun Wuliang drove, while Yang Bo went to inquire. The moonlight was serene, and the streets were deserted. A few yellow oxen wagged their tails under the streetlights, and a yellow dog, usually a night watchman, sat silently by the roadside, watching the two of them. They worked until dawn, searching every street and alley of Qibei Town, but still found nothing.

He leaned back in his seat and sent Shi He a WeChat message: "Still asleep?"

Just a few seconds later, Shihe replied, "Didn't find it?"

Ok.

Shi He sent another voice message: "Go ask the travel agency, the bus company, and the taxi company when it gets light. Maybe Liang Song isn't resting in Qibei."

Sun Wuliang switched to WeChat and logged into the mobile game. Since no one in the guild was online and the shop was closed, he emptied his alchemy furnace, returned to the guild, and left his account in the training ground to meditate. Just then, Yang Bo returned carrying a bag of steamed buns.

He closed the car door behind him and handed a steamed bun to Sun Wuliang: "Brother Sun, have something to eat. You've been driving all night, so you need to replenish your energy. At this hour, there's only one steamed bun shop open on the street."

He tilted his head and looked at Sun Wuliang's phone screen: "Oh, playing games? I love playing this too. Ever played Fantasy Cloud Mountain? The two games are similar. I've been playing that since elementary school, all the way to the Great Luo Golden Immortal level. Well, I wasn't done playing before the game shut down. I spent about two thousand yuan on it on and off." He took a bite of his steamed bun. "Back then, two thousand yuan was a lot of money."

"Where did you get the money?" Sun Wuliang opened the plastic bag, and a beefy aroma wafted out. "Back when Fantasy Cloud Mountain launched, you were probably in junior high school at most."

"On the second day of junior high, I skipped lunch and secretly spent the money on games to save up for equipment and golden pills."

Yang Bo took a bite of the steamed bun, and a few bits of oil residue fell onto his leg. He casually flicked them onto the floor mat in the passenger seat.

"Brother Sun, if you ask me, this way of looking for people isn't going to work. This place is so big, where are you going to look? Besides, the area around Ai Mang Mountain is at least 800 li in circumference, so finding someone isn't an easy task."

"I heard from the elders that during the War of Resistance Against Japan, a team of Eighth Route Army soldiers, the Bashan Guerrilla Team, was stationed in Qibei Town. When the Japanese army came, the Eighth Route Army would disappear into the mountains. Once they were caught in the mountains, the Japanese army was like being in a tiger's mouth. One would die today and another would die tomorrow. The entire team was wiped out in just a few days. Later, they simply dared not come here. Throughout the entire War of Resistance Against Japan, Qibei Town was basically a liberated area."

"You understand what I mean, right? Things in the mountains are not for human control. So, in my opinion, instead of searching aimlessly like this, you might as well ask someone in the mountains." Yangbo looked very sincere.

"Shiba? What is Shiba?" Sun Wuliang asked subconsciously.

"It's Nangmei'er." Seeing that Sun Wuliang didn't understand, Yangbo explained again, "It's Master, the Master who sees things."

After locking his phone, Sun Wuliang pursed his lips, finding the solution quite agreeable, but he couldn't make up his mind. "That's a good idea... or should I ask Secretary Shi..."

"Why ask him? Our Manager Wang said he studied abroad and can believe in this stuff. Let me tell you, the things you city folks can come into contact with... at most you might run into a ghost today, encounter a ghost wall while walking at night tomorrow, or meet a master who tells you you're lacking in metal and makes you wear a gold necklace."

"The Shiba I'm introducing is different. She's one of the top female pang girls in Qibei Town. If it weren't for me, you city folks would never have seen a master of this caliber..."

As expected, Sun Wuliang, a master of cultivation, was intrigued by Yang Bo's words.

He parked the car on the side of the road and followed Yang Bo into a breakfast stall. A greasy middle-aged man saw them and asked, "You're here?" before bending down to knead dough again. Yang Bo picked up a strip of cloth from a bottled water tank in the corner. "Brother Sun, sorry, it's my first time, so I have to be blindfolded... and I have to leave my phone here too..."

It felt like entering a cave—cold, damp, but the air was relatively fresh. Sun Wuliang suspected it might be an air-raid shelter. This kind of environment was familiar to him; the CS base he and Liang Song often visited was set up next to an air-raid shelter. The air-raid shelter set was equipped with searchlights and stacked with wooden crates for people to hide in.

Sun Wuliang tried to relax and even silently recited a passage from "The Peach Blossom Spring": "At first it was extremely narrow, barely wide enough for one person to pass through; after walking several dozen steps, it suddenly opened up into a bright and spacious place." He felt that these lines were quite fitting for the occasion.

Before he could recite more than a few lines, the blindfold was removed from his eyes, and Yang Bo's voice came from beside him: We've arrived.

This is a 4-square-meter room with no windows.

In the middle of the room stood a square table, on which sat a candle. The candlelight was unusually dim, almost imperceptible, the flame flickering up and down like a lone boat tossed about on a vast ocean, poised to be swallowed by darkness at any moment. He turned around, but Yang Bo was gone.

He was left alone in a box-like room. "Yangbo..." he called out, his voice echoing repeatedly in the cramped space, but no one answered. He felt bewildered, even fearful of being buried alive. This wasn't a room; it was clearly a square, cold, and desolate tomb.

Just then, the candle suddenly went out.

Sun Wuliang instinctively took a step back, pressing his back against the wall, which was as cold as ice, its chill penetrating to his bones. He trembled involuntarily, and in the darkness, he heard himself breathing heavily.

What would Liang Song do in this situation? He would definitely start by cursing and swearing to bolster his courage. Over the years, he had almost never been separated from Liang Song. He was like a barnacle parasitizing Liang Song, his every breath synchronized with Liang Song's.

What will he face next?

He began to regret his recklessness, and even suspected that he had been sold to an illegal coal mine. He wondered what would happen if the lights suddenly came on, several burly men rushed out, grabbed him, and sent him to the mine to dig coal day after day.

Just as he was lost in thought, the candles lit up again.

This time, there was something extra under the candle.

fish.

A fish sat upright under the candle. Sun Wuliang didn't know why he used the word "sat," but there really was a live fish with a plump mouth and yellow lips sitting upright in the air, its mouth opening and closing, making a pattering sound, as if it wanted to say something to him.

He slowly moved closer and examined it carefully. It should be a very ordinary carp, with bright eyes, slippery scales, and it looked like it had just come out of the water, exuding a fresh fishy smell.

Sun Wuliang subconsciously reached out his hand; he wanted to touch it.

Human exploration of the unknown is always built upon the five senses: sight, hearing, smell, taste, and touch. Consciousness based on the eye is called visual consciousness, consciousness based on the ear is called auditory consciousness, consciousness based on the nose is called nasal consciousness, consciousness based on the tongue is called linguistic consciousness, and consciousness based on the body is called bodily consciousness. Each sense has its own independent basis.

Even knowing the danger, humans still want to use their five senses to expand the boundaries of their understanding of things.

Sun Wuliang wanted to touch the fish to find out if its scales were slimy, its flesh firm, and whether there was bony flesh under the scales. He wondered if it was the same kind of fish as the pickled cabbage carp he often ate.

The instant his fingers touched the fish's head, he heard a strange sound, like snakes crawling rapidly on the ground. He turned around sharply, but the scene was still changing.

He turned into a fish. Sun Wuliang found himself transformed into a fish.

He was being held in the mouth of a feline, and all he could see was its chin, a red chin. Everything around him was red too—red rocks, red grass, red leaves.

Was his eye bloodshot? Or can fish only see red?

It might be a lynx or a lynx, with sharp, long teeth. Each leap would pierce its body with pain. How could it still be alive? How long has it been? This lynx has been roaming the mountains. Can a fish really live this long?

He could actually breathe. Was he using his gills or his lungs? His vision was getting blurrier and blurrier. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out.