The makeshift stage, assembled from wooden planks, stood half a man’s height, and the performers were in the midst of a lively show.

The original tall stage had caught fire after the Lantern Festival, burning down almost completely. Because of this, two soldiers from the fire watchtower had been executed by order of the city lord, but the stage had never been rebuilt. For now, this patchwork platform had to suffice, though every step on it made a creaking sound.

If it were empty, the noise would surely make people uneasy, but right now the place was packed with people, all staring wide-eyed and unblinking at the two dan roles singing on stage, so no one paid it any mind.

With a flick of their water sleeves, a snap of the folding fan, and the occasional flash of a gauzy skirt revealing a glimpse of a fair, smooth leg, a wave of excited cheers and quickened breaths would rise from the crowd below.

The busy vendors, unwilling to take their eyes off their business, slung their money pouches and sweat towels over their shoulders, smiling and hawking their wares. Every now and then, they’d bow in greeting to a familiar face, exchange a few quick words, and then hurriedly return to their work.

Those acquaintances didn’t mind, either, quickly turning their attention back to the stage, their eyes dreamy with admiration.

Only the children weaving through the crowd were truly having the time of their lives. Occasionally, after pestering the adults, they’d get a couple of copper coins and make a beeline for the food stalls, squeezing behind the grown-ups, jumping and shouting to sample a few treats, and then showing off to their friends—the greatest joy of all.

The mingled scent of sweat and food from the throng blended into a unique aroma.

Candied treats, fried cakes, steamed buns, bamboo-leaf pinwheels, sweet bean soup, ginger milk, and especially pickled plum juice—all were popular. For just one copper coin, you could get a big bowl, refreshing and thirst-quenching.

Even Brian Carter couldn’t resist, tossing down two copper coins for a bowl of sweet bean soup and a bowl of pickled plum juice, drinking to his heart’s content.

For Brian Carter, perhaps it was this memory in his mind that he cherished most, and when he could physically experience these flavors, it truly was the happiest moment.

There were always many differences between this world and the one he came from, and only by savoring them like this could he slowly immerse himself, unable to pull away.

The Sima residence was located on Dianxian Street, where stone slabs paved the ground and leafy trees shaded the sun, bringing a coolness as soon as you stepped onto the street.

Upon entering the Sima residence, Brian Carter immediately sensed something was off, especially with that man wearing a sinister grin, his expression a mix of pride and schadenfreude, which made Brian Carter a bit nervous.

Although all of Jiang Erlang’s memories remained, the soul of twenty-first-century Brian Carter now dominated this body. The instinct to cherish life—or rather, the fear of death—often took over, especially after witnessing how the powerful in this era treated human life as worthless. This feeling only grew stronger.

“Erlang, what’s going on with you? Why have you been delayed for so many days?” A young man hurried over and lowered his voice. “Lord Sima has asked about you several times already. Sigh, Xu Ziming has been repeatedly complaining about you to Lord Sima, saying you’re neglecting your duties. I’m afraid you’ll be punished this time.”

The young man’s face was full of anxiety, but he couldn’t think of any way to help Brian Carter, only wringing his hands and stamping his feet in worry.

“It’s fine, there were other reasons for the delay. The main force of the ant bandits keeps changing locations, and I often lost their trail, but I still managed to find some clues.” Brian Carter gratefully patted the other’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, Paul Clark, it’s alright.”

“Ah! Lord Sima is in a terrible mood today, you’d better be careful.” The round-faced young man shook his head and sighed repeatedly. Seeing Brian Carter looking unconcerned, he grew even more anxious.

“I know. By the way, after this is settled, I have something else to discuss with you.” Brian Carter stopped in his tracks. “This time, your magic robe was a huge help. Otherwise, I might not have made it back today. We should find some time to talk it over, and I want to try out those other things too.”

“Really?” At the mention of his proudest specialty, the round-faced young man’s eyes lit up with joy. “That thing actually came in handy? Don’t fool me—I always thought it was just an experiment, and I’m still thinking about how to improve it. Tell me, how was it? What did it feel like?”

“It’s a long story. Let’s talk in detail another time—I need to go report in first.” Brian Carter also wanted to have a good chat with his friend.

Because of limited materials, that magic robe had to be made with mulberry paper, but even so, it had saved his life. Helen Clark was obsessed with this field—he hadn’t thought much of it before, but now he realized these things could be truly useful.

As for the talismans, Brian Carter hadn’t dared to mention them. The earth talisman was one thing—Paul Clark himself said it was just a basic prototype, barely usable, good enough to fool outsiders but useless against real experts. But the wood spirit talisman was different.

That was Paul Clark’s pride and joy. If he used it so casually and openly, it would probably break his heart.