"Worthy Nephew Zeng?"
Seeing Zeng Anmin stand before the platform in silence for so long, Shi Ze could not help but speak up to remind him.
Zeng Anmin came back to himself, looked at Shi Ze, and suppressed the myriad thoughts in his heart.
He put on a smile and said to Shi Ze:
"My apologies. Too much happened during the Western General's disaster relief efforts, and I got a little distracted."
As he spoke, he directly opened the gates of the Duke's Mansion and said to Shi Ze:
"Please."
"No need. This old man merely came to ask a question before leaving. Worthy Nephew Zeng has been away from home for a long time, so you should return to the manor and speak more with your family first."
Shi Ze smiled and waved off Zeng Anmin's invitation.
Zeng Anmin looked up at Shi Ze. "What would Elder Shi like to ask?"
"I heard that you subdued a Second Rank Martial Artist with a supreme treasure of the Confucian Path. This matter..." Shi Ze's gaze was grave, with a trace of anticipation in his eyes.
"Yes." Zeng Anmin nodded openly. After glancing around to make sure no one was nearby, he lowered his voice and said:
"This treasure was given to my father by the Confucian Sage after accepting him as his Eighth Disciple."
"May I see it?!" Shi Ze's heart thumped wildly.
A flush appeared on his aged face.
As a Second-rank Confucian cultivator, he understood better than anyone what this treasure represented.
And more than anyone, he wanted to know what a magical artifact personally bestowed by the Confucian Sage looked like!
The corner of Zeng Anmin's mouth twitched.
He also knew Shi Ze had no greedy intentions; the old man simply wanted to see the treasure.