When talking about "it," Chen Yan also pointed upwards.
"If it's not too taboo, it can be concealed. But if it's too taboo, it will still provoke it."
"Why are these histories taboo to 'it'? Why hide them, even destroy them? I mean, why doesn't 'it' allow these histories to be viewed, why doesn't it allow these things to be discovered?"
The old man shook his head, "I don't know."
"So, on this level, were there historical records that were missing before? Have you seen those missing parts?"
"No, I haven't seen them either." The old man shook his head, "When I arrived here, it was already like this. The books recorded here, none were missing."
Chen Yan remained silent, contemplating.
The old man saw that the hot pot was already boiling and rolling, he skilfully picked up the chopsticks and grabbed a strip of mutton, tossed it into the pot to swish it around, waited for the color to change before picking it up, dipped it into the sauce, and sent it into his mouth.
