"Not that strong?" Chu Honglin frowned at him.
Chu Zhiyuan slightly closed his eyes, chanting strange syllables with low voice, his two palms forming seals respectively.
The movements of forming seals were so skillful, as if practiced for a long time, quickly forming each seal, and then gently combining them.
His body quickly donned a layer of faint golden light, becoming solemn and dignified.
A ball of golden light descended from the void, as big as a fist, condensed into a small net.
The golden net, the size of a handkerchief, lightly floated toward Chu Honglin.
Chu Honglin extended his hand, letting it fall onto his palm.
The golden net instantly permeated his palm.
"Hmm—?"
He suddenly frowned, looking at his palm, feeling as if it had detached from his body, losing connection.
Within the palace, Chu Zhiyuan dared not use Super Sense, just concentrating and staring.
"Uncle Fifteenth, how does it feel?"
"Strange! Very strange!"
"Then let's try again!"
