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

Oh, O'Neal suddenly exclaimed, with a hint of fear and curiosity that was hard to conceal in his voice, like a flash of lightning that suddenly flashed across the night sky, instantly illuminating everything around but quickly returning to silence.

"Oh my God!" He shouted this sentence with an almost trembling voice, his eyes wide open, searching around for the source of the incredible sound.

"What on earth is that? So weird, so frightening!"

The sound was long and low at first, like the whisper of a lost soul in an ancient forest in the dead of night, so miserable that it was almost impossible to describe in words.

It seemed to have crossed the boundaries of time and space, not only permeating the entire swamp, but also penetrating deeply into everyone's heart, making people involuntarily feel a chill rising from the soles of their feet and running up their spines.

However, the source of this sound is like a ghost in the fog, elusive and impossible to find.

Scotch, the usually well-informed traveler, now showed a look of curiosity and confusion.

He narrowed his eyes, listening carefully to the strange sound, with a faint smile on his lips, as if trying to find a clue from this chaos.

"The swamp is such a place full of wonders and mysteries!" he murmured to himself, his tone showing awe of the unknown and a hint of excitement unique to explorers.

O'Lear clenched his fists tightly, trying to regain some sanity from this sudden fear.

"What...what on earth is this?" His voice trembled slightly, and his eyes kept scanning the uneven fields around him, hoping to find even a hint of clues related to the sound.

However, except for the occasional croaking of a pair of crows on the distant rock, the entire wilderness seemed to be shrouded in a mysterious silence.

Seeing this, Scourge couldn't help but chuckle, trying to ease the tense atmosphere with light words.

"You are a well-educated person. I believe you will not easily believe the nonsense told by those farmers, right?" There was a hint of sarcasm in his words, but more of it was recognition of Oriel's wisdom.

Olier took a deep breath and tried to calm himself down.

"No, I certainly won't believe it blindly," he replied, but his eyes still flickered with desire for the truth.

"It's just, this sound...it's so real, it's so unbelievable."

Scourge nodded and began to analyze it carefully.

"Indeed, swamps sometimes make some strange noises. It could be the mud sinking, or the groundwater surging, or even the special effect of the wind passing through the specific terrain."

As he spoke, he looked around, trying to find a reasonable explanation from the environment.

However, O'Neill shook his head firmly.

"No, no, I firmly believe that it was the sound made by an animal." His tone was full of unquestionable determination. "That sound contains the rhythm of life and the desire for freedom. It cannot be explained by natural phenomena."

Scourge frowned slightly when he heard this, and seemed to be moved by O'Leary's persistence.

"Ah, if you put it that way... I think of a possibility." He said after thinking for a moment, "Have you heard of mandarin ducks? They are an extremely rare bird in England and are almost extinct. But in places like swamps with special ecological environments, perhaps their traces can still be found. Perhaps what we just heard was the legendary mandarin duck calling its companions."

When O'Neill heard this, a glimmer of hope flashed in his eyes.

"Mandarin ducks?" he murmured to himself.

O'Leary's words were filled with deep shock. He uttered each word slowly, as if the syllables were filled with unspeakable emotions: "This, this is truly the most thrilling and incredible melody I have ever heard in my long journey."

It was like a sudden storm in the dark night, sweeping through my soul and making me feel unprecedented shock and confusion in every cell of my body.

Scourge nodded slightly when he heard this, his eyes flashing with infinite emotion for the past years.

He slowly raised his hand and pointed to the distant and hazy mountain tops, with a barely perceptible awe in his voice: "Yes, this land is more than just a piece of land. It is the whisperer of time and the guardian of history."

"Look, what's hidden in the mist on the top of that hill is not something of this world, but the crystallization of the wisdom of our ancient ancestors."

"Those densely packed and well-arranged grey stone circles are like the marks of time, quietly telling stories of the past."

"Each circle carries the joys and sorrows of at least twenty families. They are not just outlines of stone piles, but also silhouettes of the lives of our respectable ancestors."

Olier's eyes sparkled with curiosity and amazement. He spoke softly, as if afraid of disturbing the sleeping history: "Oh? What on earth is that?"

“Could it be a sheep shed carefully built by the shepherd, a safe haven to protect the sheep from wind and rain?”

Scourge shook his head slightly, his tone filled with mixed emotions about the past years: "No, no."

"That is not an earthly sheepfold, but the residence of our ancient ancestors in prehistoric times, and it is the trace of their life in this swamp."

"Since they left, time seems to have stopped here. Every detail of those cottages, from the outline of the door frame to the cracks in the corners, remains the same as when they left, as if time had never passed."

Olier gazed at the land covered by the dust of history, with infinite emotion in his heart: "This is just like a forgotten town, lying quietly in the long river of time."

"So, when were these huts inhabited?"

Scourge pondered for a moment and slowly replied, "It was probably the distant Neolithic Age, an era without exact written records but full of mystery and miracles."

"At that time, our ancestors grazed cattle and sheep on this land and lived in harmony with nature."

"When the sharpness of bronze gradually replaced the clumsy stone axes, they bravely took the step of exploration and learned to mine tin, leaving behind precious wealth for future generations."

Following Scourge's guidance, Olier looked towards the mountains opposite, where deep trenches could be vaguely seen, a testimony to the diligence and wisdom of the ancestors: "What kind of life did they lead at that time, besides herding and mining?"

Scourge's eyes revealed his longing and admiration for that period of time: "Their lives, though simple, were full of wisdom and courage."

"In this vast land, they not only learned to live in harmony with nature, but also promoted the progress of civilization through constant exploration and experimentation."

"Those trenches are the marks of their hard work and witness their indomitable spirit and pursuit of a better life."

Just as the two were immersed in their reverie of the past, Scourge suddenly interrupted his thoughts, his eyes fixed on the path ahead: "Oh, please forgive my gaffe, Dr. O'Leary."

"Look, that must be the Cyclopeda moth. It is like an elf of this land, shuttling between our world and the secret realm of nature in an elegant and mysterious way."

As he finished speaking, a colorful and bizarrely shaped moth fluttered by.

In that split second, Scourge seemed to be driven by some invisible force, bursting out with unprecedented strength and speed, and pounced out like an arrow from a bow, with such swiftness that it was jaw-dropping.

There was a flash of astonishment in Oriel's eyes. He watched in disbelief as the tiny creature rushed towards the vast, unfathomable quagmire in an almost resolute manner, as if it was a secret land full of temptation, calling for it to embark on an unknown adventure.

Following closely behind was Scotch, wearing a slightly dull yet tough grey outfit, jumping lightly among the dense groves. Every leap and landing seemed so precise and powerful, like the most agile hunter in nature, chasing the tiny figure that was about to disappear on the edge of the quagmire in a unique "moth to a flame" posture.

His agility and nimbleness made people envious, but also a little worried, fearing that this brave hunter would encounter an accident in the dangerous quagmire.

Just as O'Neill's mind was drawn to this exciting scene, a gentle but noticeable sound of footsteps quietly broke the silence around him.

He turned slowly, his eyes penetrating the layers of fog and tree shadows, and finally fixed on a woman standing on the side of the road not far away.

She seemed to be walking slowly out of the hazy smoke in the distance. The smoke was like a corner of the mysterious veil of Okari, indicating that her arrival was no accident.

Due to the unique terrain of the swamp and the silence of her walking, it was not until she came so close that he could almost touch her that O'Neill suddenly realized her presence.

This woman was undoubtedly the beautiful and mysterious sister that Scourge had mentioned.

The huge difference in appearance between the brother and sister is as sharp as the contrast between day and night, which is breathtaking.

She has just the right healthy complexion, a perfect blend of neither pale nor dark, as if it were a masterpiece created by nature's most exquisite palette.

Her light golden hair glows softly and warmly in the sun, forming a sharp and harmonious contrast with her deep gray eyes, making her unforgettable at first sight.

What is even more striking is her extraordinary temperament and demeanor. She has a slender and well-proportioned figure, and every step she takes reveals an indescribable nobility and elegance, as if she is a lady walking out of the painting of an ancient aristocracy, with a bit of otherworldly coldness and aloofness.

However, when her pair of black eyes full of stories gently raised and met O'Leary's gaze, the warmth and sincerity revealed in her eyes instantly melted the indifference, making people feel the tenderness and enthusiasm hidden deep in her heart.

Her facial features are as exquisite as sculptures, and every detail perfectly demonstrates the ingenuity of the Creator.

Especially those sensitive lips, which when gently pursed have an imperceptible smile, as if ready to listen to the whispers of all things in the world at any time.

Her clothes perfectly set off her noble temperament. Every stitch and thread revealed her extraordinary taste and style. On this quiet swamp path, she looked like a ghost princess who traveled through time and space, mysterious and charming.

At the moment when the setting sun was gently shining, O'Neill slowly turned around and caught her affectionate eyes fixed on her brother.

Her steps were brisk and urgent, as if driven by the call of her heart, and she quickly approached Oriel.

Gently taking off the hat decorated with tiny flowers, she hesitated to speak, but her words contained a power that could not be ignored, which instantly changed the course of O'Neill's thinking.

"Please go back!" Her voice was full of unquestionable determination, but also mixed with gentle whispers, as if she was begging, or ordering, "Set off immediately and return to your hometown that you long for. There is no time to lose."

There seemed to be flames dancing in her eyes, flashing a light that could not be disobeyed. At the same time, one foot tapped impatiently on the ground, revealing her inner anxiety and impatience.

O'Lear was so shocked by this sudden request that he stood there in a daze, his heart filled with confusion and puzzlement.

"Why do I have to leave here? Why not stay here?" His words revealed his desire for the truth and confusion about the unknown.

Luna's voice was low and sincere, with an indescribable heaviness, as if every word carried a thousand pounds of weight.

"I cannot tell you why, but I beg you to believe that it is for your own good." Her voice was tinged with the strange tone of a large tongue, which added a bit of sincerity and earnestness. "For God's sake, please do as I ask. Leave here, stay away from this swamp, and set off on your journey tonight, and never come back again."

O'Neill's heart was full of doubts and confusion. He tried to find the answer from Luna's eyes, but he only saw depth and complexity.

Just as he was about to continue asking, Luna suddenly changed the subject and asked in a relaxed tone: "Can you please pick an orchid for me next to the cedar-leaf algae over there? Although the swamp has lost its former splendor, the orchids are still blooming. Their beauty may add a touch of color to your journey."

At this time, Scourge returned, sweating profusely, obviously having expended a lot of energy in the process of chasing the bugs.

He greeted Luna while breathing heavily, but O'Neill keenly noticed that the brother and sister were not as close as he had imagined.

Luna forced a smile and tried to ease the awkward atmosphere with words: "Scourge, you look so hot, take a rest."

Scourge casually responded to his sister's concern, but his eyes kept wandering between Oriel and Luna, as if he was searching for some clue or answer.

"I can see that you already know each other." There was a subtle meaning in his words.