Returning to his small courtyard, Lin Changsheng immediately shut the doors and windows, setting up a simple warning formation.

Then, unable to contain his excitement, he took out the "Fire Poker" he had acquired from the Cultivator Market from his storage bag.

The pitch-black iron rod was cold to the touch, its surface pitted and covered in rust. From any angle, it looked like a useless piece of scrap metal.

But Lin Changsheng knew this thing was anything but simple. He slowly infused it with his mind power. Inside the iron rod, there seemed to be an invisible membrane blocking his probing.