Man in the Three-Body Problem: After facing the wall, I founded the Reception Society!

Despite the lack of a groom, Hannibal's journey home was not slowed down in the slightest.

He has been carrying high hopes of his family since he was young, and has already honed his horse riding skills to perfection through countless trials.

At this moment, he was sitting in front of the carriage, holding the reins in his hands, his eyes sharp, as if every nerve was closely connected to the horse under him, and together they shuttled back and forth on the winding path, leaving a series of steady hoof prints.

The sunlight filtered through the sparse clouds, dappled onto the tips of his pink hair, casting a soft glow on this resolute figure.

The corners of Hannibal's mouth rose unconsciously, and an indescribable sense of pride surged in his heart - this was not only an affirmation of his own abilities, but also a gratitude for his family's training.

He whispered to himself: "Those years of sweat and tears, now it seems, are the only way to grow up."

As the carriage slowly drove into the town's borders, a majestic and quaint town gradually appeared before his eyes.

This is his hometown that he longs for, and every inch of land carries his childhood laughter and dreams.

Hannibal's heartbeat quickened, his eyes sparkling with anticipation and excitement.

He seemed to be able to smell a familiar scent in the air, the smell of home and the warm embrace of his loved ones.

However, as the carriage went deeper into the town, a strange silence quietly enveloped him.

The hustle and bustle of the past seemed to have disappeared overnight, replaced by deathly silence.

On both sides of the street, the once bustling shops were now closed, and the occasional sound of wind chimes had become unusually harsh.

What is even more heartbreaking is that heavy black curtains are hung on the lintels of every household. They are like silent mouths, telling one story after another about loss and sorrow.

Hannibal's heart sank suddenly, and an ominous premonition arose.

He knew very well that these black door curtains were a symbol of the ravages of the Black Death, and each one represented the brokenness and sorrow of a family.

His face turned pale and his eyes flashed with worry and fear.

"No wonder my family tried so hard to dissuade me from coming back. It turns out the situation here is so serious..." He muttered to himself, his voice full of helplessness and self-blame.

Despite this, Hannibal did not stop.

He knew very well that no matter what was waiting for him ahead, he must face it bravely.

He gripped the reins tightly and looked firmly in the direction of home.

There, there are his beloved relatives and the concerns he cannot give up.

He prayed secretly, hoping that everyone in his family would be safe and that the disaster would pass soon so that his hometown would regain its vitality.

As the carriage got closer to his home, Hannibal's mood became more and more complicated.

He was looking forward to the warm moment of reuniting with his family, but at the same time he was worried that he would bring misfortune and disaster.

Soon, he drove the carriage, the wheels rolling gently on the stone road, and finally stopped steadily in front of his majestic castle.

As a highly respected local noble home, Hannibal's mansion not only covers a large area, but is also famous for its majestic architectural style and exquisite details.

The towering gate is three meters high and is usually kept closed, revealing an inviolable solemnity and dignity.

But now, this door that symbolizes the glory of the family is unexpectedly wide open, as if it had lost its former guards and boundaries.

The guards at the door also disappeared as if they had evaporated from the face of the earth.

This scene made Hannibal's heart tighten suddenly, and an ominous premonition quietly crept into his heart.

He quickly jumped off the carriage, unconsciously quickening his pace, almost trotting through the thick outer wall of the castle, each step filled with eagerness and worry.

Passing through familiar corridors and around exquisite courtyards.

He looked around carefully, his eyes lingering on every place where a black curtain might be hung.

But what comforted him was that the frightening black curtains did not appear on the doors of all the buildings.

This is undoubtedly good news, at least it shows that his family has not yet suffered any misfortune.

He stood in the central square of the castle, which used to be a place for family gatherings and laughter, but now it was unusually quiet.

Only the rustle of leaves in the breeze mixed with the sound of his rapid breathing.

He took a deep breath and shouted with all his strength: "Sister! Grandpa and grandma! Mom and Dad! I'm back!"

The voice echoed in the empty castle, carrying with it a hint of expectation and desire.

However, the only response he got was his own echo and the even deeper silence.

At this moment, Hannibal's heart was in suspense again, and the stone he had just put down seemed to be lifted up again by an invisible hand.

He looked around, trying to find any trace of his family in every detail, even the slightest clue.

Hannibal's heart was beating wildly in his chest, as if trying to break free from its restraints.

He almost dropped his suitcase and rushed into the familiar yet extremely strange door of the house.

The world behind the door was so quiet that it was disturbing. There was an ominous smell in the air, which was completely different from the warm and vibrant home in his memory.

In the living room, everything is still in order, as if time has stopped, except for the abrupt red mark on the dining table, which is as dazzling as blood, silently telling an unknown secret.

Hannibal's eyes scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of his family, but all he got in response was dead silence.

"Grandpa and grandma's room, they must be waiting for me there."

He muttered to himself, and his pace quickened involuntarily. He rushed up to the second floor along the spacious and open stairs, almost running.

The echo of the stairs seemed particularly loud in the empty house, like a resonance of his inner anxiety.

When he reached the second floor, he almost roughly pushed open the door of his grandparents' bedroom.

The door frame creaked heavily, which was particularly abrupt in the quiet afternoon.

However, the room was empty and the bed was tidy, as if the owner was only away temporarily.

But the excessive neatness reveals an unnaturalness that makes people feel chilly.

Reluctantly, he hurried to his grandfather's favorite study, where there was a rich collection of books, each of which carried the family's memories and wisdom.

But at this moment, although the books on the bookshelf are neatly arranged, they lack the vitality of the past, and grandpa is nowhere to be found.

Next is the balcony that grandma carefully maintains, which should be filled with the fragrance of flowers and lush greenery.

At this moment, only the lonely flowerpot and withered branches are left, silently telling of the absence of the owner.

"This is impossible. How could there be no one at home?"

Hannibal muttered to himself, the anxiety in his heart was like a wildfire, unable to be contained.

He forced himself to calm down, decided to continue searching, and stepped onto the stairs leading to the third floor.

My sister and parents' rooms are just as tidy as before, but they lack the warmth of home and the laughter of loved ones.

Every piece of furniture and every ornament stood silently, as if cast a spell, freezing time forever at the moment he left.

What made him even more uneasy was that even the maid who was usually busy with housework disappeared without a trace. The entire castle seemed to have been abandoned overnight, leaving only an empty shell.

Countless possibilities flashed through Hannibal's mind, but each one seemed unacceptable to him.

Why did the family choose to leave when the Black Death was raging?

Even if there was a compelling reason, why didn't they leave any clues or information?

The remains of precious possessions and daily necessities make it all seem confusing and puzzling.

At this moment, a sudden gust of wind blew through the hall, bringing not only coolness but also an unusually rich and mouth-watering aroma of meat.

It instantly filled the entire space, awakening Hannibal's dormant taste buds.

"This scent..."

He stopped, frowned, and tried to search his mind for relevant fragments.

Memories came flooding back like a tide. It was the taste of breakfast in the small town hotel in the morning, delicious and unique, which he could not forget until now.

But at this moment, why is this familiar smell lingering in my home, seeming particularly out of place?

Full of doubts and curiosity, Hannibal no longer hesitated and decided to follow the guidance of the scent.

He subconsciously took a step forward and walked towards the direction where the wind was coming from - that is, outside the house.

The house is empty, and this sudden fragrance may be a clue, pointing to some traces of family members or the outside world.

Perhaps a neighbor accidentally let the aroma drift here while cooking;

Or maybe, his family was trying to convey a message to him in some special way?

With this thought in mind, Hannibal felt both nervous and expectant, eager to unravel the mystery behind the scent.