Chapter 941: Pang Bo on Earth
Pang Bo had never left Earth!
When he learned this news, Ye Fan stood motionless like a clay or wood sculpture, completely petrified, staring blankly at the sky.
All these years, who had shared his joys and sorrows? Who had fought side by side with him? Who had roamed the world together with him? Who had lived and died alongside him?
Ye Fan's body turned cold. How could such a loyal and devoted friend be fake? If that were the case, who in this world could still be trusted?
His heart felt hollow and empty. If Pang Bo had never left Earth and never crossed the stars with him, how terrifying and shocking would that be!
If that were true, then who was the person who had ridden the Nine Dragons Coffin with him? Had they been there since Mount Tai, setting out from this world together?
"One extra person..." Ye Fan murmured to himself.
He still clearly remembered that scene. When counting heads, there had been one extra person in the bronze coffin, terrifying everyone at the time. Yet he had been the first to acknowledge Pang Bo.
The reason was simple—he trusted Pang Bo, trusted the feeling at that moment, and had sensed no falsehood.
"All these years... who is he really? What benefit does he gain from playing this role?"
Ye Fan felt a bone-deep chill. This was all too hard to accept. How could a sworn brother, one who had shared life and death, turn out to be fake, to have problems?
"I don't believe it. He bore me no ill will and knew everything about me. How could a fake understand me so well?"
Ye Fan shook off his grief in an instant, his whole body tensing, fists clenched. Though he had returned to Earth, he couldn't relax. He needed to break through this fog of confusion.
He emerged from the shadow of his parents' death, his gaze piercing into the distance as if he were back in the Big Dipper. His heart had risen to a state of battle!
Ye Fan traveled south, determined to uncover the truth and see what was real and what was false. At his core, he didn't want to believe there was another Pang Bo on Earth. If so, there would be no one left in this world to trust.
The address of Pang Bo's family had long since changed. Otherwise, why would he need Xu Qiong's help to find it? He would have visited himself long ago. Twenty-some years had changed much; they had moved away from their original city.
Ye Fan arrived in N City and, following the information he had recently obtained, found the destination. He stood on the rooftop of a large building, silently sensing. Extending his powerful divine consciousness into the building, his expression immediately stiffened as he saw Pang Bo's parents.
His father was a burly man. Though nearly eighty and showing signs of age, one could tell how imposing he must have been in his youth. Pang Bo had inherited his build, standing two heads taller than ordinary people.
His mother was white-haired and not in good health, looking weak in blood and qi, with a hint of melancholy on her face.
But Pang Bo himself was nowhere to be seen. In the modestly sized apartment, only the two elderly people were present, though it was clear another couple should be living there, along with a young person.
"That must be Pang Bo's older brother and sister-in-law, two or three years older than him. The other should be his nephew. None of them are home right now. But why isn't there a room for him?" Ye Fan wondered with suspicion.
He silently apologized, then transformed into a beam of light and entered the living room, concealing his form. He searched carefully but found no trace of Pang Bo having lived there.
Suddenly, his expression jolted. He saw a photo frame—one meant for the deceased. It was a black-and-white photo of Pang Bo!
Ye Fan felt as if struck by lightning. How could this be! Pang Bo had never left Earth, yet he was already dead. This was his best friend. No matter where, he never wished for him to come to harm.
He froze on the spot, unable to accept this fact, his body trembling. His parents had passed away, and now his best friend was gone too?
"Little Bo's death anniversary is almost here again. How time flies—already ten years." Pang Bo's father sighed.
Ye Fan was dazed. Pang Bo had died ten years ago? How? He couldn't believe it. Back in school, the two of them had the best physiques. How could he have died so young?
"Twenty-some years ago, Little Bo didn't make it to Mount Tai and escaped that disaster. But I never thought fate was determined—no matter how you dodge, you can't avoid it. Sigh!" His mother wiped away tears as she came over to clean the photo frame. The tenth anniversary was approaching.
"That rascal..." Pang Bo's father muttered softly, then fell silent, sitting there smoking quietly.
"Forgive me," Ye Fan whispered. He extended his divine consciousness into the minds of the two elderly people, wanting to uncover everything.
Half an hour later, he left, standing on the rooftop of the building, lost in thought, unable to believe any of it.
Pang Bo's death was very strange—struck by lightning in a desolate wilderness. No wonder his mother lamented that even escaping the Mount Tai disaster, heaven wouldn't let him go.
Ye Fan was completely stunned. This all exceeded his expectations. He muttered to himself, "Heaven above, what is wrong with you? Even if Pang Bo's true body was on Earth and never rode the Nine Dragons Coffin away, you couldn't be so cruel."
He didn't know how he left that place. Unconsciously, he found himself at N City's public cemetery. Facing row upon row of tombstones, he felt his feet grow heavy.
Now, he truly dreaded entering such places. The greatest pain in this world was parting in life and death. How many days had it been since he last faced this?
In a spot shaded by green pines and cypresses, Ye Fan found Pang Bo's tombstone. He stood silently for a long time, then set down the large bouquet of pure white flowers he held.
"I truly don't believe you're gone..."
Ye Fan sat on the ground, took out a bottle of wine, and poured it all onto the earth with a gurgling sound. Then he lit several cigarettes, taking a puff from each before placing them before the tombstone.
"How could this be? Everything feels like a dream. I often wonder if everything in the Big Dipper Star Domain was real. Now I've woken up, and it's so cruel."
Ye Fan sat before the grave, lighting a cigarette for himself. After leaving Earth for so long, twenty-some years later, he once again tasted the emptiness of swirling smoke.
He was very silent, sitting there for a long time, finishing an entire pack of cigarettes before muttering, "To be honest, I don't believe you're dead."
Then came another stretch of silence. He pondered, thinking with utmost seriousness, as if suddenly understanding something. He shot to his feet and threw a cigarette butt heavily to the ground.
"To be precise, I don't believe you were the real Pang Bo. My friend is still alive—he never came back!"
Ye Fan's gaze was sharp, his entire spirit and energy boiling as if preparing for a great battle, his sharpness exposed—a world apart from his recent dejection.
"This is a battle. I will drag you out!"
Not to mention the true nature of the Pang Bo in the Big Dipper Star Domain, who had been loyal and devoted to him, even from what he had seen in the minds of the elderly couple, there were several suspicious points.
First, his death was too strange. How could he have been struck by lightning? And at the time of death, his face was twisted and completely deformed, frightening many people ten years ago.
Second, his personality had changed. According to what his parents had seen in their minds, this Pang Bo's behavior was somewhat bizarre, even confusing the two elderly people.
Third, why had he quit his job and spent years traveling to ancient sites and mountains, yet always had endless money?
Fourth, why was he so persistent in asking the elderly couple about all their blood relatives, visiting each one, even those they hadn't contacted in years, showing up at their doors?
In short, many of his words and actions left the elderly couple with doubts, unable to understand. They only remembered one time when he seemed drunk and said their family had demon god blood in their veins.
Of course, the old man had slapped him hard that time, snapping him awake, and scolded him for talking nonsense.
"Earth is far more complicated than I imagined..."
Ye Fan returned to Pang Bo's home and carefully sensed. Sure enough, he found that the burly old man's blood and qi were very vigorous, surpassing ordinary people.
"No wonder Pang Bo is so burly, two heads taller than others, with arms thicker than most people's legs. Could there really be ancient demon blood in his veins? No wonder the descendants of the Green Emperor wanted to seize his body."
Ye Fan muttered to himself. Pang Bo's father and brother had slightly strong blood and qi, but not enough to astonish him. It seemed it varied by individual—perhaps only certain people could atavize.
"Could Pang Bo's ability to cultivate the Green Emperor's Ancient Scripture be due to his blood awakening?"
Ye Fan stayed in N City for a few days, gathering enough information. He helped improve Pang Bo's parents' health, using spiritual medicines to wash their flesh, blood, and bones multiple times, but he never revealed himself.
On this trip south, he hadn't gathered enough evidence to be one hundred percent certain that the dead Pang Bo was fake. So after leaving, he began using all his resources to verify.
"Did he actually go to Mount Tai back then?"
Trying to verify at Mount Tai was impossible. After so many years, who could remember?
He took a roundabout approach, finding the company where Pang Bo had worked, hoping to locate some of his former colleagues and get clues. Unfortunately, the relevant people had long since left.
Admittedly, an ordinary person could never have found them—it was like looking for a needle in a haystack. But Ye Fan was no ordinary man. Though it took great effort, he eventually succeeded.
He secretly observed their sealed memories and finally confirmed that Pang Bo had gone to Mount Tai back then. A colleague had even helped him book the plane ticket.
At the time, Pang Bo had said something came up at home—both the real and fake Pang Bo had claimed this. But the dead Pang Bo had returned home on the day of the Mount Tai incident, saying he hadn't gone.
However, the colleague who booked the ticket had a different memory. When Pang Bo got off the plane and transferred to a long-distance bus to reach the foot of Mount Tai, he had specifically called to thank him.
Ye Fan smiled. Though it had taken great effort, with a troublesome and winding process, he had finally confirmed that the dead Pang Bo was most likely fake. This was immensely significant to him—a tremendous piece of good news.
"So there are ancient demon clans still existing on Earth? Let me see what you're trying to do."
Ye Fan had just returned to B City when he received a call from Yang Xiao, who mentioned something related to the Little Stone Buddha.
According to him, those ancient script symbols had greatly shaken the Sanskrit authority from last time. He had specially consulted his own teacher, and somehow this had alerted several mysterious high masters.
"They've come to B City and insist on meeting you. I really couldn't refuse on my end." Yang Xiao was in a difficult position.
"Isn't it just a few ancient Sanskrit characters? Was it worth bringing them all the way from India?" Ye Fan said.
"They're several old monks. The people accompanying them practically treat them like living Buddhas, almost kneeling in worship. They say they've manifested some divine miracles. But what era is this? Even with faith, it shouldn't be like this." Yang Xiao, a scholar, naturally didn't believe in such things.
Ye Fan's mind stirred. Nowadays, the land beyond the mountains revered Hinduism. Buddhism had long declined in its place of origin. Why would high masters travel thousands of miles? Could there still be cultivators in this world?
This was good. He was just investigating everything about the fake Pang Bo. If these were truly hidden experts, he could follow the trail and understand everything about Earth today.
I humbly request votes from all great emperors. The first third of the month has passed; now we enter the middle third. I ask all great emperors to check your vote reserves. The pursuers are closing in fast—please support me.
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