Qi Lin left, and he left without a trace. The people of the White Lotus Sect seemed to have vanished completely overnight.
"Old Wang, could there be a trap here?" Chen Wu asked. "What if Qi Lin comes back for a surprise attack? The time limit on my borrowed Mystic Realm strength has passed, and I'm afraid I'd be done for."
"What kind of person do you take Qi Lin for? He's a Mystic Realm expert; he wouldn't go back on his word. He once made a ten-move pact with Guo Xuchu. After he lost, he obediently kept quiet for three years." Wang Jiuyuan didn't even look up. He simply turned the hand-cranked lathe, repairing a gear.
"But didn't he say something about three moves left?"
"I know that guy Qi Lin. He cares about saving face, which is why he boasts that he's the greatest Mystic Realm expert in the world. He'd already made a big show of talking, but when he couldn't win, he had no choice but to stop fighting. If he stopped, then he hadn't lost, right?" Wang Jiuyuan scoffed. "Otherwise, if he used up those three moves and still couldn't take you down, would he really have to be a Mystic Realm expert and give you a wide berth?"
"I see..." Chen Wu remembered something else. "That paperweight you gave me—who did it belong to? How come I found a fist technique inside it?"
"Master Nanlei, a Grandmaster," Wang Jiuyuan said. "The fist technique you found is called the Mingyi Fist Technique. Master Nanlei created it himself."
"Who was he?"
"A contemporary of Emperor Taizong."
"That long ago? It's been over a hundred years. How could the Concentrated Spirit Realm aura on that paperweight have survived?" Chen Wu asked in surprise.
Chen Wu had read