Arriving at a strange place, heading towards a village is always a safe bet.
Mr. Jinli swam around Zhu Minglang with a dumbfounded expression, as if it were scrutinizing this world, but after Zhu Minglang realized he knew nothing when asked, he understood that Mr. Jinli was suffering from seven-step amnesia, forgetting things after every few moments, and would ask him why he appeared so mature.
Upon reaching the village, Zhu Minglang saw that the inhabitants were neither three-headed and six-armed, nor glowing with a golden light. They lived very simply, even using rather primitive farming tools, leading a life that was peaceful, poor, and uncomplicated.
"Elder, where are we? I have amnesia and wandered here, only to suddenly forget where I am. Could you tell me where this is?" Zhu Minglang asked an elder sitting at the entrance of the village, sunning rice and beans.
"Are you an Immortal?" the village elder asked seriously.
