Siheyuan: At the beginning, I can integrate everything!

"Buzz—"

In an unnamed dead-end alley in Nanluoguxiang, a very subtle, transparent ripple suddenly appeared in the air.

It's like an invisible pebble being thrown into a calm lake.

Immediately afterwards, a white beam of light, not dazzling but exuding a profound sense of technology, descended from nowhere.

The beam of light dissipated.

Zhang Huaimin and Chen Bing appeared steadily on the bluestone slabs of the alley.

"Phew—the air on Earth still smells so comforting."

Chen Bing took a deep breath of the air, which carried a hint of car exhaust and the aroma of jianbing (Chinese crepes), and his tense nerves finally relaxed completely.

Spending too much time in the high-pressure environment of the cultivation world, where things could easily destroy the world, even this special forces king felt he couldn't handle it.

Zhang Huaimin remained silent, his hands in his pockets as he surveyed the scene before him.

Although it has merged with the "Key to the Origin of the World" and gained absolute authority over dimensions.

However, the difference in the flow of time between different planes remains an undeniable physical law.

They only stayed in the cultivation world for a few short months.

But on this earth, it seems that several pages of the calendar have already been turned.

On the main road outside the alley, the only bicycles are no longer the same old-fashioned 28-inch bikes.

Occasionally, a yellow van or a Xiali sedan would whiz by.

The once drab walls along the street are now covered with brightly colored commercial posters.

People's clothing has also changed from monotonous blue, black and gray to bell-bottoms, floral shirts, and even fashionable women with big wavy hair.

Beijing in the early 1990s.

That era of rapid change, brimming with excitement, opportunity, and the allure of money, has quietly arrived.

"Let's go, Brother Chen, let's go back to our 'Special Protected Building' and take a look."

A relaxed smile appeared on Zhang Huaimin's lips as he strode towards the Hongxing Courtyard.

Because there is a state-issued protection order of the highest level.

Although many of the hutongs surrounding Hongxing Courtyard have been demolished and rebuilt, the courtyard itself still stands intact.

It's like an isolated island forgotten by time in this modern city.

However, back then, those heavily armed special guards, stationed every three steps, were gone.

After Zhang Huaimin left, in order to avoid attracting too much attention, they have moved into a covert operation.

The entrance to the compound was rather deserted.

A gentle breeze blew by, stirring up a few withered yellow leaves.

Next to the stone lion at the gate.

An old man, hunched over and as thin as skin and bones, was struggling to bend over.

Holding a wooden stick with an iron hook, he was rummaging through a tattered cardboard box.

The old man was wearing an old Zhongshan suit that hadn't been washed for who knows how many years. It was shiny with oil and covered with patches upon patches.

His sparse white hair stood on his head like tangled weeds.

His face was covered in deep wrinkles that could trap flies, his lips were dry and withered, and he had no teeth left in his mouth.

He shakily hooked a flattened soda can out of the cardboard box, a glint of murky light flashing in his cloudy eyes.

"Hey, isn't this Uncle San? What brings you to the recycling business?"

A clear male voice, tinged with a hint of mockery and surprise, suddenly rang out behind the old man.

The old man was startled, and the can in his hand fell to the ground with a clatter.

He struggled to straighten his nearly broken back and adjusted the tattered glasses on the bridge of his nose, one leg of which was wrapped with tape.

He squinted his old, nearsighted eyes and turned his head away.

"Who...who is it..."

The old man mumbled indistinctly, his voice hoarse as if rubbing sandpaper.

When his clouded eyes finally made out the young man in casual clothes standing in the sunlight.

The old man was completely frozen in place, as if he had been frozen in place by a spell!

Zhang Huaimin!

That five-and-a-half-year-old prodigy who left the compound several years ago and was rumored to be on some top-secret national mission!

but!

Why?!

Why is it that after several years, the people in the compound have grown old or died?

Yan Bugui went from being a shrewd and calculating elementary school teacher to a wretched old man who could only make a living by collecting scraps to exchange for steamed buns!

And this man in front of me!

He still retains the appearance of that eighteen or nineteen-year-old peak youth from back then, with sword-like eyebrows, bright eyes, and an otherworldly handsome appearance?!

Not a trace of time has been left behind!

His skin remained fair and firm, even faintly glowing with a jade-like luster.

Those deep black eyes didn't show the vicissitudes of life, but instead possessed a divine and imposing aura that made people afraid to look directly at them!

Time, like a cruel butcher's knife, leaves its mark on everyone.

On Zhang Huaimin alone, not even a scratch was left!

This is an extremely strong, visual, and psychological contrast between the passage of time.

It instantly shattered Yan Bugui's already fragile nerves.

"A ghost...a ghost!"

Yan Bugui let out a scream that had gone awry.

His two thin legs, which were already somewhat weak, could no longer support the weight of his body.

With a "thump".

He plopped heavily down on the cold, hard bluestone slab.

"Oh my dear mother and great-aunt!"

Yan Bugui ignored the excruciating pain in his coccyx.

He rubbed his old eyes hard with both hands, desperately trying to dispel the "illusion" in front of him.

"Chairman Zhang... Chairman Zhang? Is it really you?"

His hand trembled as he pointed at Zhang Huaimin, his teeth chattering and making a "clucking" sound.

"You...you haven't aged at all! This...how many years have passed!"

Looking at Yan Bugui's ridiculously terrified appearance.

Zhang Huaimin felt no sympathy whatsoever; he simply found it somewhat amusing.

This old man Yan, after scheming his whole life, ended up with his children disowning him and himself reduced to picking up trash.

This is the law of cause and effect.

"Uncle, your eyesight is pretty good."

Zhang Huaimin, with his hands in his pockets, looked down at Yan Bugui, who was sitting on the ground.

"I've been eating good food outside these past few years, so I look young."

Did you eat something good?

What wonderful thing can make people young again and live forever?

Yan Bugui was internally cursing, but he didn't dare to ask aloud.

His current reverence for Zhang Huaimin has transcended the limits of ordinary people; he completely worships him as a living god.

"Yes, yes, yes... Chairman Zhang, you are blessed with great fortune and longevity, you are like a deity descended to earth, naturally you don't look old..."

Yan Bugui tried to stand up, tumbling and crawling, but his legs were too weak and he failed several times.

He could only sit awkwardly on the ground, revealing his gaping gums, and desperately squeeze out a fawning smile that looked worse than crying.

He looked at Zhang Huaimin and suddenly remembered something.

A complex mix of desolation and urgency flashed in his originally cloudy eyes.

He shakily stretched out his withered hand, which resembled a tree branch.

Pointing in the direction of the central courtyard of the siheyuan (traditional courtyard house).

"Huaimin... Chairman Zhang, you're finally back..."

Yan Bugui's voice carried a hint of sorrow, and even a touch of sadness at the loss of his comrade.

"Old Yi... Old Yi is dying..."

"These past few days, he's been lying on the kang (a heated brick bed), clinging to his last breath."

"I keep saying your name in my mouth every day."