Zhan Yun stood in the corridor, sensing the old man's deep malice. This was just an old, lonely ghost, yet despite their scuffle, was he actually willing to let him stay?
At this moment, Zhan Yun heaved a sigh, and asked the old man, "Old man, how many murals are there on this corridor?"
"One hundred and eight thousand," the old man said with a smile.
"But why are there scenes of modern cities on the murals? Isn't this crystal skull an artifact from ancient times?" Zhan Yun asked.
The old man smiled and said, "What's the problem with that? If you don't find the so-called modern city scenes stimulating enough, I can find you pictures of the future - spaceships, mechs, and so on. I can find them all for you."
When Zhan Yun heard this, he froze in astonishment, "No way!"
