That room held no trace of cultural relics, except for a dazed young woman in one corner.

"Where are the relics?"

An Qisheng's eyes narrowed, and he began to hypnotize.

His hypnosis skills were already extremely high. Dealing with someone who had been scared out of their wits was naturally a piece of cake.

"The things are in the secret room in the yard..."

The grave robber looked blank, staring at An Qisheng's eyes, muttering to himself.

"Secret room?"

An Qisheng stepped forward and tapped the grave robber's brow with his index finger.

He released his strength, turning the entire brain into a mess, ensuring death.

Then, he moved his body to the wall, kicked aside the two corpses sitting side by side, activated the mechanism, and a dark hole appeared in the cracked wall.

Whoosh~

An Qisheng walked in.

The secret room was not large, only about four or five square meters. Many cultural relics were scattered haphazardly on a worn-out mattress.

Ceramics, bronzes, various coins, and some silk books, ancient books, and parchment scrolls.

An Qisheng's eyes moved. He could already feel the books among the silk texts that exuded a strong spiritual imprint.

An Qisheng reached out and took those books in his hand.

The paper of these ancient books had a faint musty smell, and there were large shadows formed by moisture.

"Damaged..."

An Qisheng frowned.

The damage to these ancient books was not small. The handwriting on the first one was a bit blurred, and the spiritual imprint on it was also collapsing.

An Qisheng put down the most damaged silk books, leaving only one in his hand.

This ancient book was the only one that had not been damaged, and there was not even much decay on it.

Opening the yellowed book, many of the words had faded, but one could still vaguely see the unrestrained spirit of its owner's writing, and the vast, masculine spirit that remained after a long time.

Literature conveys the Dao.

Between the lines, An Qisheng seemed to see a thin-faced middle-aged man writing diligently at his desk under the flickering candlelight, confiding in his friends about the evils of the time.

Turning to the last page, there was a casual note to a friend, with the words "Wang Shouren" (王守仁).

"It really is Wang Yangming's handwriting..."

An Qisheng held the manuscript and took a deep breath.

Without immediately entering the dream, An Qisheng held Wang Yangming's notes and turned to leave the secret room.

Whoosh~

The air flowed, and as soon as he stepped out of the secret room, a fist came straight at him.

An Qisheng's expression remained unchanged. He gently raised his palm, deflected the person's arm, landed on their chest, and with a gentle push, the person tumbled to the ground.

"Su Jie!"

With a somewhat weak exclamation, the previously unconscious girl staggered up and helped the young man who couldn't even stand up on the ground.

"Tingting, run!"

The young man's face was pale.

The person who came out of this secret room was definitely a master. With just a light touch, his body felt like it had been electrocuted.

His Qi and blood had been scattered.

"Su Jie? Good name."

An Qisheng walked out of the secret room and smiled:

"However, it's not good to attack your savior, is it?"

This young man's Kung Fu was good, but if he hadn't acted this time, he would have died in the hands of these grave robbers.

Although he didn't save him on purpose, it was naturally not an exaggeration to say he was a lifesaver.

"Savior?"

The young man's face froze.

Feeling that his hands and feet had recovered some strength, he stood up and respectfully saluted:

"So it was you who saved me. I thought these kidnappers had a disagreement over the spoils and started fighting among themselves..."

He had heard the commotion upstairs before, but at that time, he was very nervous. An Qisheng's movements were fast in the dark, and he didn't see what happened at all.

When he settled the people below and came up, he saw such a tragic scene in the room. He reacted like a frightened cat, and when he heard footsteps, he instinctively attacked.

"No need to explain so much."

An Qisheng waved his hand and looked at the young man with some curiosity:

"Your Kung Fu is good, where did you learn it?"

This young man was at most a high school student, with a youthful face, but his Kung Fu was very solid, not just a show.

This was rare.

An Qisheng thought to himself that he was not as good as this young man when he was in high school.

This could not be explained by talent alone. He must have been guided by an expert.

"I'm a student at the Shaolin Martial Arts School. The coach is a Shaolin monk, Shi Xinlong..."

Su Jie replied.

"Shi Xinlong..."

An Qisheng thought for a while and remembered.

Because of his dream ability, he had collected some information on experts in the martial arts world of Da Xuan and even the world.

This Shi Xinlong was a master in the Shaolin Monk Corps, one of the faces of contemporary Shaolin. It was said that he was also a Huajin (transformation realm) expert.

However, Su Jie called Shi Xinlong a coach instead of a master, so obviously Shi Xinlong could not have taught him much.

The source of his Kung Fu was probably someone else.

But he didn't ask any more questions, turned around and pointed to the secret room:

"Kidnapping is just a side job for these people. Their main job is grave robbers. This is all the cultural relics they stole. After I leave, you can call the police. There's no need to hide anything about me."

An Qisheng instructed him and had no intention of staying.

With a movement of his feet, he had already left the room.

"You..."

The young man took a few steps to chase out of the room:

"Benefactor, what's your name?"

But in the night, there was no sign of anyone.

"Su Jie, help me up."

In the room, the girl looked at the corpses all over the floor, her face turned pale, and her legs went weak:

"I, I'm scared..."

"Oh."

Su Jie agreed and looked reluctantly at An Qisheng, who had long disappeared into the night.

It was a pity that he couldn't ask such a master for guidance.

.......

"That Su Jie..."

In the night, An Qisheng kept walking, but the young man's appearance appeared in his mind.

He had a strange feeling in his heart.

This young man seemed a little unusual.

But he didn't know what had caught his attention.

"Perhaps I'm thinking too much. There are tens of billions of people on Xuan Star, it's normal to have a few geniuses..."

The thought flashed through his mind.

An Qisheng moved his feet faster and ran like a dragon in the night, covering a distance of ten or twenty meters with each rise and fall.

The night scenery on both sides retreated rapidly.

He ran for more than an hour before he came to the main road, stopped a car, and took it into the city.

By the time he returned to the hotel next to the train station, it was already past eleven o'clock in the evening.

"Huff!"

Slightly calming his breath, he sat cross-legged on the bed and slowly opened the yellowed ancient book in his hand.

"Wang Yangming..."

An Qisheng's heart moved, his eyes half-closed, and he activated his ability.

Buzz~

In his vision, ancient characters emitted a faint glow, as if they had come to life, entwining each other like a large net.

And in an instant, the perspective became closer, and the large net gradually changed, evolving into a scroll that unfolded.

Night falls, the moonlight is like water, the ancient city is quiet, the old house is secluded, the wind blows the branches...

In the study, the lights are like beans, and a shadow is reflected on the window paper...

Wang Yangming...

An Qisheng's mind moved, and his vision became extremely clear, as if his spirit had traveled through time and space and arrived in the scroll.

Whoosh~

At this moment, in the study, the figure writing diligently at the desk straightened up and looked out the window.

Through the window paper, An Qisheng seemed to see those warm and bright eyes.

"A guest has arrived, you are most welcome..."