With a "thump!", Ding Qiangguo knelt down in front of Chen Ke.

Chen Ke raised an eyebrow, feeling that Ding Qiangguo had already imagined him to be a thousand-year-old monster.

Sure enough, Ding Qiangguo's face immediately became as cautious as his father's, even adding a touch of flattery and fear. "Grandpa, I was blind to your greatness. Please forgive me."

Chen Ke: "You just said you were a staunch materialist..."

Ding Qiangguo: "Grandpa, I don't know if you've ever heard the saying, 'The end of science is metaphysics!' We've already reached the end of science."

Chen Ke: "..." This scene seemed familiar. It was the same when he faced Zhou Xiaowen. Before he could say anything, they had already found a "reasonable" explanation to convince themselves of their suspicion and shock.

Now Chen Ke not only doesn't have to explain his identity, but he also has to ask them how they recognized him.

"Because there's a painting left at home, I'm going to get it to show my uncle." Ding Jianguo, who looks to be in his forties or fifties, didn't feel awkward calling Chen Ke "uncle" at all. He was overjoyed by Chen Ke's indirect acknowledgment and ran upstairs to get the painting.

After Ding Jianguo left, Ding Qiangguo looked hesitant and timid, as if he wanted to approach Chen Ke but dared not.

Chen Ke knew perfectly well that he was acting, so he nudged his knee and said, "Stand up first, and ask whatever you want."

Ding Qiangguo immediately stood up and asked with a mysterious look, "Grandpa, you... are you immortal?"

Chen Ke shook his head, "A flesh and blood body that can feel pain and die."

Ding Qiangguo looked incredulous. "Then how come you've lived from the Republic of China era to now without aging at all? Unless... you're not my great-grandfather!"

"You little brat, who else could he be but your great-grandfather?" At this moment, Ding Jianguo walked over carrying a sandalwood box.

Chen Ke glanced at it twice; the box looked familiar.

When Ding Jianguo opened the box, he realized why it looked familiar: it had originally been used to store Ma Yuan's genuine painting, "A Lone Angler on a Cold River," but now it contained a portrait of him...

For a moment, Chen Ke felt an indescribable sadness, as if he had truly been separated from Chen Zhuo by nearly a hundred years.

"Uncle, look." Ding Jianguo unfolded the portrait, and Ding Qiangguo also came over; he hadn't seen it yet.

"Wow, it really is exactly the same! It looks like a black and white photo that was just taken with a phone. Amazing, truly amazing!"

Chen Ke wasn't sure if Ding Qiangguo meant the painting was amazing or that he hadn't become amazing at all. He frowned and looked at the portrait again carefully. "Did Chen Ke paint this?"

In the painting, he stands in the snow in a suit, with some snow on his shoulders, but his face is gentle and the corners of his mouth are slightly upturned. His eyes are full of affection, as if he is looking at the person he loves most.

This couldn't have been drawn by Chen Ke, because he wouldn't look at him with that kind of gaze.