Henry Clark could barely hear anything, because after the initial burst, that high-frequency sound gradually exceeded the range his ears could perceive.

At the same time, not far from him, a pillar nearly a meter high rose from the ground. The upper stone slab of what appeared to be a seamless stone column unfolded, supporting a square, book-like object.

Why "book-like"? Because the cover looked far too strange!

Snake skin!

He might not be able to identify other types of leather, but he would never mistake snake skin!

He had never seen this pattern before, but unlike the feeling he got from Brian Foster's wallet, this didn't seem like skin that had been directly peeled off. Instead, it looked as if it had shed naturally...

A snake molt!

Henry Clark even imagined, if such scales existed on a snake, how enormous that snake must be!

No, that shouldn't be his focus right now!

He looked at the zodiac coin, still glowing blue and floating in the air, then at the pillar that seemed to have grown seamlessly from the ground, and finally fixed his gaze on the book atop the pillar.

He couldn't tell what material it was made of—ancient, yet exuding an indescribable, hair-raising aura.

The pages of the book turned rapidly on their own, without any wind.

Henry Clark couldn't make out what was written inside; he could only see that each page contained just a few words, some long, some short, in different scripts and handwriting styles.

Was this the signature the old butler had mentioned?

Was this the family register?

"This family register... is really different from what I imagined a family register to be."

No matter how slow or uninterested in cutting-edge technology he usually was, even Henry Clark knew that what was being displayed before him was not something ordinary people could ever encounter!

At this moment, Henry Clark realized, "Damn, I'm really in deep trouble now!"

Henry Clark stood frozen, every hair on his body standing on end.

The most terrifying thing is the unknown.

At the same time, he realized that what lay before him was a path he had never imagined, never understood.

He had a feeling—no, it was more like an instinct.

An instinct that told him what to do.

Like a hen hatching eggs, a bird building a nest, a spider spinning a web, a bee making honey.

Innate ability!

A memory etched into his genes!

If this "family register" was like a door, then the moment he signed his name would be the moment he truly pushed open the door to the unknown.

The "family register" stopped flipping pages, and a blank page lay open.

Henry Clark reached out and, with his index finger, wrote his name on the open page.

As the final stroke was completed—

It was as if a cloud of mist suddenly dispersed.

Through the haze, Henry Clark saw a blurry shadow, like a coiled snake.

His consciousness gradually slipped from his control, as if running back and forth along the edge of ancient times and the future, between dreams and reality.

On the other side of the wall—

Uncle Silent stood quietly at the door. His phone chimed with a new message notification—it could be a friend from an online card game, or a local acquaintance from the villages at the foot of the mountain—but at this moment, he paid no attention to his phone, completely ignoring the alert.

After waiting a while longer, Uncle Silent grinned silently, stretched lazily, glanced at the sky, and finally took out his phone to send a message to several group chats:

"Tonight the weather in the mountains will change—strong winds and rain. Head down the mountain early, don't go to the summit. Those living halfway up, bring all valuables indoors, get the chickens and ducks into their coops early, close doors and windows tonight, park your cars in the garage, and don't go out unless necessary. Those at the foot of the mountain don't need to worry, just bring in your laundry early—the humidity will be high."

These groups were all made up of residents and workers living in or near the mountains.

As soon as they saw Uncle Silent's message, everyone popped up.

"Really? The weather forecast says it's going to be sunny for days."

"The weather changes fast in the mountains. Uncle Silent has lived up there for years—he's never wrong."

"The new waterproof car mat I bought still smells a bit. I was going to air it out under the yard awning for a few days. Should I bring it inside? I'm staying halfway up the mountain tonight."

"Bring it in. Didn't you see Uncle Silent say there'll be strong winds tonight? What if it gets blown away? Even if it doesn't, all the leaves and mud in the mountains will get blown onto it."

People in the groups chatted when they had a moment, and some glanced at the sky outside.

"Not a cloud in sight—are you sure it's going to rain?"

It wasn't that they didn't believe Uncle Silent. Anyone who had lived or worked in Xiaofeng Mountain for a while knew that Uncle Silent's weather predictions were always spot on. He always warned them in advance, and he was far more accurate than any weather app.

But this time, Uncle Silent's warning sounded a bit extreme, so many were half skeptical.

However, as time passed, everyone started to notice something was off with the sky.

"Isn't it getting dark a bit too early today?"

"Woke up from a nap and found the sunny sky had turned cloudy."

"The weather really is changing. The outdoor humidity monitor has sent me several alerts already."

"The weather in the mountains is unpredictable. Let's listen to Uncle Silent and get moving!"

By the time it was dark, those staying halfway up the mountain were eating dinner and looking out the window from inside their houses—the visibility was less than five meters.

They turned on the yard lights, but couldn't see a thing.

"What a thick fog!"

"Fog doesn't necessarily mean rain, right?"

"Depends on whether the conditions are right for rain. There's a kind of fog called pre-frontal fog."

"Really? Fog like this at this time of year? That's not normal, is it?"