He could understand it. Even though Yan Yi had never heard the language spoken by the middle-aged man before, it felt etched into his soul—deeper than his mother tongue. He grasped it crystal clear!

The middle-aged man seemed to notice Yan Yi’s earlier odd behavior and asked worriedly, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Not injured, are you?”

Sensing the concern in his words, Yan Yi’s brows relaxed slightly. He instinctively replied, “I’m fine, just a bit tired.”

But as soon as he spoke, Yan Yi frowned again. He’d just fluently spoken a completely unfamiliar language. What on earth was going on?!

Noticing Yan Yi frowning once more, the middle-aged man thought he should take him to rest. He nodded and said, “Come to my home.”

“Thank you. May I ask your name?”

Yan Yi decided to set this aside for now. In anime or novels, this would be called a bug. Could his transmigration be premeditated? Had someone summoned him and granted this language ability?

But why? If intentional, why not just state the purpose directly?

Unless…

Did they know he’d find it troublesome and refuse to help?

True, what did the world’s destruction have to do with him? Exactly, that’s it… like hell!

Yan Yi didn’t accept this outright. He needed a place to rest first; he lacked information.

“I’m Mo Ping, village head of Ink Village. What’s your name, young man?”

“Uncle Mo Ping, I’m Yan Yi, a rootless traveler.”

Yan Yi’s backstory: an orphan, he’d grown up tough with some strength, set out to travel, got lost nearby, and finally found this village after a long struggle. He wanted to rest here awhile.

A good lie was three parts truth, seven parts fiction. Yan Yi’s tale wasn’t really a lie—the only falsehood was claiming he was from this world.

Walking along, villagers greeted kindly; children stared curiously. Yan Yi sighed inwardly. Life without scheming was wonderful. Such a simple village—maybe he could spend his golden years here.

As he pondered this, Mo Ping asked, “Yan Yi, what’s that pelt on your back?”

“Huh? Oh, this? I skinned it from a wolf’s corpse. That wolf was terrifying—five meters long! Even dead, it scared me.”

Yan Yi almost blurted his inner thoughts but caught himself, acting naturally. He handed the wolf pelt to Mo Ping.

Mo Ping took it and froze. “This… this is a Flame Wolf’s pelt. Wait, five meters? Could it be the Flame Wolf King?!”

Mo Ping took a deep breath, his voice trembling slightly. “You’re lucky, kid. Flame Wolves are Class C Magical Beasts, but the Flame Wolf King is Class B! And it was dead. Otherwise, you’d be hunted by a Class B beast and surrounded by Class C ones. Surviving would be a miracle!”

No, I wasn’t just hunted; I’m perfectly fine.

Yan Yi pretended to be scared, nodding about his luck.

Soon, they reached a simple house. Even as village head, Mo Ping lived like others—Yan Yi admired that.

“Huh? Old man, back so early?”

A middle-aged woman approached. She looked around thirty, but given Mo Ping’s weary face and their old-couple nicknames, they were likely in their forties or fifties.

Mo Ping seemed worn from village duties, though his handsome features hinted at youth. The woman was well-preserved, beautiful with no wrinkles.

Yan Yi felt a trace of familiarity from her refined face but couldn’t place it.

“Oh, this young traveler. I’m bringing him to rest.”

Mo Ping led Yan Yi inside with the woman.

In the living room, Yan Yi learned she was Mo Qing, married to Mo Ping for nearly twenty years. He shared his “backstory”—not vivid but heartfelt. They sighed inwardly.

“Little Yi, stay in Ink Village. You’re young; don’t risk dangerous travels.”

Mo Qing looked at him with care.

“Thank you, Auntie, but I don’t want to trouble you too much.”

Yan Yi said this politely but was inwardly delighted.

“No trouble. Our daughter’s away; her room has no girly decorations. You can stay there.”

Mo Ping added, “We’d like you to stay.” Yan Yi guessed their daughter had been gone long, leaving them lonely. His good attitude made them fond of him.

So, why not make another… ahem, we should care for the elderly!

“Thank you, Uncle and Auntie. I’ll stay for a while.”

Smiling outwardly, Yan Yi was overjoyed inside. He wanted to legally stay in this peaceful place, make it his… home.

“Well, this is your home now.”

Mo Ping and Mo Qing seemed to sense his longing, smiling warmly.

Yan Yi felt a hint of his master and mistress’s warmth. Without them in that world, he might have vanished.

Thinking of them, his nose tingled slightly. He disliked that world, but they were his only family there. Only with them did he feel safe. He suppressed his sadness and thanked them again.

It was nearly noon. Mo Ping didn’t go to work but waited for lunch. Watching Mo Qing control flames to cook, Yan Yi sighed; how convenient.

After lunch, Mo Ping was about to leave. Mo Qing would show Yan Yi to his room. Yan Yi asked Mo Ping, “Uncle, do you have books? I want to learn something.”

This fit his backstory: he hadn’t accessed books but learned some characters secretly. He didn’t overpromise, fearing embarrassment if he couldn’t read.

Mo Ping nodded encouragingly. “If you want to read, go to my study.”

As village head, Mo Ping’s study held the village’s most complete collection; many administrative tasks required it.

Yan Yi saw his room first. The undecorated space surprised him—he’d thought Uncle was exaggerating. He’d prepared to tolerate a girl’s room—wasn’t that a fanboy’s dream?!

“Yu’er doesn’t like decorations. She prefers practicing magic,” Mo Qing said, sensing his thoughts.

Yan Yi nodded, put down the wolf pelt, and rushed to the study.

In the study, Mo Ping’s desk had an ink bottle with a pen, papers covered in writing. He must work late every night.

Yan Yi went to the bookshelf, staring at the unfamiliar yet recognizable symbols. He found a book titled “Continental Nations.”

Opening it, the map on the first page stunned him. This world was much larger than he imagined!