Chen Lin wasted no time on sentiment.
Spiritual power surged from his fingertips into the hairpin, smashing straight toward the restriction within.
The restriction was already as thin as a sheet of dried window paper. Its former owner's divine soul imprint had vanished countless years ago, leaving not even a trace.
An ownerless treasure belonged to whoever got there first.
The space opened.
Pitch-black darkness greeted him. He spread his spiritual power outward, and the outlines of four walls emerged.
It wasn't large-about thirty square meters, a sealed stone chamber. No dust, no dampness. Time seemed never to have passed inside.
Chen Lin swept his gaze left and stopped.
Spirit stones.
They were stacked neatly against the wall, row upon row, rising from the floor to waist height.
Not dozens.
Not hundreds.
He made a rough visual count.
Over three thousand.
His heartbeat remained steady, but one eyebrow rose.
His gaze continued to the right.
Something else lay in the corner. Palm-sized, silver-white all over, with both ends curving upward-a boat. Dense formation markings covered its surface, a faint spiritual glow seeping through the grooves.
It looked like a silver ornament.
Or a chess piece placed on the wrong square.
Chen Lin wasn't in a hurry to examine it.
He beckoned.
Clatter-
Spirit stones poured out of the hairpin's space, bouncing off the stone table and rolling onto the ground until they covered both.
Over three thousand low-grade spirit stones piled up in the backyard, their pearly light casting shadows from the peach tree's trunk.
At a second-floor window, Bright Moon woke at the noise and slowly poked half a head outside.
One glance.
The light was too bright. Dazzling.
Back inside.
Chen Lin counted them.
Three thousand four hundred and twelve.
Added to the stock in his Storage Ring,