When we arrived, Master Liang told us that Boss Wang is a rough man who has been involved in the underworld since he was young and has a very low level of education. The only thing he can boast about is the family heirloom book “Records of the Robbery.” Such a person, when I was explaining the subconscious to him just now, surprisingly understood it right away and even gave examples. This indicates that he has some understanding of psychology, to some extent.

I felt something strange just now, but I didn’t pay much attention to it, thinking it was just a coincidence. Perhaps Boss Wang has noble sentiments, managing to find time to study psychology while engaging in deceitful activities, wanting to be a cultured member of the underworld. But looking at his violent demeanor, that seems unlikely.

Thinking about this, I couldn’t help but glance at Boss Wang, a strange premonition enveloping me, and I felt very odd—could it be that the person in front of me is not Boss Wang? He was deep in thought about the idea I proposed, momentarily unaware that I was looking at him with unusual eyes. Seizing the opportunity, I scrutinized his expression, his clothes, and many details about him.

I had never had much of an impression of Boss Wang. First, he rarely spoke, and second, his actions were not particularly outstanding. I had only seen him once or twice before climbing the bronze tree, and I didn’t have much memory to judge the authenticity of the person in front of me.

However, upon closer inspection, I felt as if I had discovered a problem, though I wasn’t sure. To verify my thoughts, I suddenly pretended to see something and waved my hand in front of him, softly calling out, “Boss Wang!”

Boss Wang turned his head immediately and asked, “What?”

“Don’t move!” I gestured for him to stay still and cautiously walked over to him step by step. He looked at me nervously, thinking there was something on his shoulder, glancing sideways. I reached his side, pressed on his chest, and thought to myself, “Oh no,” then stepped back without doing anything else.

He was confused and softly asked, “What are you doing? Is something wrong?”

At this point, I felt more certain, glanced at him, and said, “I think your clothes are very strange. Where did you buy them?”

Boss Wang looked at me with the expression of someone who has encountered a lunatic and laughed, “Are you kidding? Why are you suddenly asking me this?”

I replied, “I’m not kidding at all, Boss Wang. A few months ago, when I first went to dig for treasure, my uncle asked me to go buy supplies. At that time, I wanted to buy a mountaineering jacket like the one you’re wearing, but I didn’t buy it in the end. Do you know why? Because the two pockets on this jacket look big, but they are actually fake and just for decoration. I thought that for adventure gear, the more pockets, the better, so I bought another style.”

Boss Wang touched the two pockets, and his expression changed slightly.

I clapped my hands and said softly, “So I find it a bit strange. Where did you pull out that glow stick and your cigarettes from, hmm, Boss Wang?” A flash of insight crossed my mind, and I almost blurted out, “Or—would it be better to call you Old Itch?”

Boss Wang stared blankly at me for a long time before suddenly bursting into laughter. In an instant, his plump body seemed to deflate, much like a balloon losing air.

I watched as his face changed gradually, slowly transforming into the familiar visage of Old Yang, and I knew I had guessed correctly. He stretched his body and sighed, saying, “Wu Xie is indeed Wu Xie. Damn it, ever since you were little, you’ve been the only one who could fool me. I rarely get a chance to trick you, and yet you saw right through me.”

I looked at him coldly and asked, “Cut the crap. What are you playing at?”

He forced a bitter smile and waved his hand, saying, “Let me explain, let me explain! Ah! I knew it wouldn’t be so easy to pull this off.”

Seeing that I remained silent, he continued, “My intention isn’t to deceive you. However, this matter must be handled this way to be effective. Just wait until I finish explaining, and you’ll understand that I have my reasons.”

I noticed how effortlessly he controlled his appearance and realized that his mastery of this ability exceeded my imagination. It was clear he understood everything about the situation, which meant his purpose for coming here wasn’t about money. With such a power, money was no longer an issue.

But with that kind of ability, he was practically invincible. What other goals could he not achieve without coming to this godforsaken place? Was there something lacking in this power?

Regardless, I was now certain that from the moment he sought me out, I had fallen into a meticulously crafted trap. In other words, he had been lying from the very beginning, and I had been foolish enough to trust him. That damn son of a turtle! If I could control such power, I would turn him into a pig.

Old Yang noticed the change in my expression and realized that although I appeared calm on the surface, I was seething with rage inside. For a moment, he was at a loss for how to quell my anger, staring at me helplessly.

After a long pause, he suddenly sighed, as if coming to a realization, and pulled a photo from his pocket, saying, “Look at this, and then I’ll explain.”

I took it and shone my flashlight on it. The photo was of his mother, her hair already graying, likely from years of hard work. It seemed that during his time in prison, she had endured a lot. She had been beautiful in her youth and was kind to all of us; we all called her “Beautiful Aunt.” My dad and I would visit her several times a year.

I didn’t understand why he was showing me this photo and asked, “What do you mean by this?”

He sighed and smiled sadly, “I told you I needed money, right? Actually, I was lying. The reason I came here is for my mom. She passed away while I was in prison.”

I gasped, looking at him with extreme skepticism, furrowing my brow as I asked, “Your mom… passed away?”

He nodded silently, glancing at his hands as he spoke, “The day after I got out of prison, I rushed home, eager to surprise my mom. But when I opened the door, I was hit by a foul smell. My mom was slumped over the sewing machine, motionless. I thought she had a heart attack, so I rushed to help her. But when I lifted her up, do you know what the hell I saw?!”

Old Yang closed his eyes and groaned in pain, “Her face was stuck to the sewing machine, and when I pulled, it all came off. My God—”

I didn’t know that his mother had passed away and was at a loss for how to respond, just standing there staring at him. Old Yang was a very filial person; he would never joke about his mother in such a way.

He touched his forehead and continued, “After I took care of my mom’s remains, I was alone in the empty house and didn’t know what to do. I didn’t dare to sleep; whenever I lay down, I saw my mom’s face stuck to the sewing machine. I stayed like that for nine days, starving to death, thinking maybe it would be better to just die of hunger. But then, suddenly, I smelled something delicious coming from the kitchen, as if someone was cooking. I went over to take a look and saw my mom had actually appeared again. When she saw me, she said, ‘Wait a moment, it will be ready soon.'”

At this point, I realized what was going on.

Old Yang continued, “At first, I thought I was going crazy from missing my mom and was having hallucinations. But then I gradually realized something was wrong; this wasn’t a hallucination. Not only I, but even the vegetable seller saw my mom. That’s when I understood she had really come back, just like before, even the taste of the dishes she cooked was the same.

“If it were someone else, they might think they were seeing a ghost, but not me. I started to contemplate what was happening. Gradually, I noticed that there was an indescribable oddness in my surroundings, but I hadn’t pinpointed the key until one night I stayed up watching TV all night. Guess what? That night, there was a power outage, and my house was the only one in the entire neighborhood that still had power; all the appliances were running without needing to be plugged in.

“I didn’t know what was going on. At that time, my cousin wrote me a letter, telling me he was experiencing the same situation. Suddenly, it clicked; it was related to that bronze tree.

“I read a lot of books and learned that tree might be what ancient people referred to as the Wish Snake God Tree. My ability might have come from that bronze tree. At first, I was very happy, thinking I had struck it rich, but as I researched this ability and gradually began to control it, problems arose.

“Once you try to control this ability with your thoughts, if you can’t clear your mind, many things will mix together and become very messy. So one day, when I woke up, I saw my mom sitting with her back to me, sewing. The moment I saw her at the sewing machine, I was terrified. I tiptoed over, and you know what I saw? My God, my mom’s face…”

Old Yang made several gestures but couldn’t continue, letting out several long sighs.

I felt a chill in my heart, unable to imagine how terrifying that scene must have been.

Lao Yang suddenly produced a cigarette out of thin air, put it in his mouth, and without using a lighter, the cigarette ignited. He took a deep puff and then said, “Since that time, I realized the terrifying nature of this power, but I couldn’t accept it. I really wanted my mom to come back, so I had to find someone to help me—someone who knew my mom and had a very clean subconscious, and that’s you, Lao Wu. At the same time, I also need to eliminate my own abilities.”

I didn’t expect that Lao Yang’s goal was this. I said, “But, Lao Yang, this sounds like it’s going against the natural order. People can’t come back to life after they die.”

He replied, “Lao Wu, I’m not being greedy. I just want three years. If I can spend three more years with my mom, I would be satisfied. You’ve been to my house quite a few times; you wouldn’t want to see my mom die alone, would you?”

I sighed, thinking about whether I would dare to visit his house if his mom really came back to life. I wondered who had planted this sycamore tree here, as it seemed to possess such evil power. If a person could be materialized using that kind of power, could they still be considered a person?

After thinking for a long time, I shook my head. “I can’t do this, Lao Yang. Your mother has already died; she has returned to the earth. Just… let her go. Don’t hold on to her any longer.”

Lao Yang smiled. “It’s too late, Lao Wu. You don’t understand; this matter has nothing to do with whether you want to help or not. That’s also why I couldn’t tell you my purpose. Now, I think my goal has already been achieved.”

I didn’t understand what he meant and asked, “What do you mean?”

He raised his hand and said, “You should try to see if you can materialize something.”

I didn’t know what he was up to. I looked at my hand, imagining the image of a stone, trying to manifest my thoughts, but despite trying hard for a long time, my hand remained empty. There was no doubt that this ability was difficult to use; ordinary people cannot control their subconscious.

Lao Yang smugly said to me, “You see, this kind of power is useless when you try to force it. Otherwise, when I was hungry just now, a roast duck should have flown over to me. It only appears under specific circumstances, which is very difficult. Lao Wu, you can only guide it; you can’t use it. Even if trained, it would still be very hard. If you wanted to materialize a television here, such a complex thing could never be created.”

I looked at him and asked, “Are you saying this ability is passive? It needs psychological guidance?”

He nodded. “Yes, for example, the words I just said to you can already guide your thoughts in your brain, allowing me to materialize a person in my house hundreds of miles away.”

I was stunned, looking at him and saying, “Nonsense. Do you really think I believe everything you say?”

Lao Yang shook his head. Just then, the bronze tree and the entire amber shook suddenly. We both slipped under our feet and nearly fell, quickly grabbing onto the bronze chains nearby. Looking down, we saw something writhing in the abyss beneath us. With each movement, the bronze tree shook violently, making it hard for us to stand steady.

I held onto the bronze chain, feeling puzzled, and recalled something. I turned back to Lao Yang and asked, “By the way, that strange sound of ‘de…de…de…’ earlier, was that also made by you?”

Lao Yang looked down with a puzzled expression and nodded, saying, “Yeah, I used that sound to lure you into the root plate, and then I knocked out the boss Wang who was guarding outside. The radio interference was just to prevent you from hearing the sounds of my fight with him.”

I frowned and exclaimed, “Then what’s causing this shaking?”

Lao Yang’s expression changed as he replied, “I don’t know either. But, Lao Wu, what was your first impression of this bronze tree?”

Upon hearing him say that, I suddenly shivered. “I think… it leads to hell…” I said, looking down. “No way, you can’t be saying that what’s down there is…”

Lao Yang kicked me hard and shouted, “Idiot, don’t think recklessly!”

As soon as he finished speaking, a huge eye appeared in the dark depths below, its purple pupil narrowing into a strange, thin line like a cat’s.