Lu Xuan's fingertip brushed over the five cinnabar characters, "Yangyan Fuhuo Scripture," and surprisingly, the touch carried a faint warmth, as if tiny sparks were dormant within the pages.
His heart stirred slightly; the old Daoist's words about the "fragmented scroll" might not be mere excuses; there indeed seemed to be some profundity in this scripture.
Afterward, Lu Xuan ignored the old Daoist's complex and terrified gaze, and couldn't be bothered with the old Daoist's junior brother, who still had a gun pressing against his temple, not daring to breathe heavily.
He casually flipped open the scripture, and as the old Daoist mentioned, the pages were extremely thin, just five pages in total.
On them were several structures of symbols painted with cinnabar, accompanied by concise formulas and routes for guiding one's energy. The last few pages clearly showed signs of being torn.
Lu Xuan's gaze was like lightning, quickly scanning over those symbols.
