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Nearly a month had passed since Lin Xiao refined Neola and secluded himself in the original world. He discovered that, although his Soul's True Spirit had always been in contact with the Power of Time, it hadn't fused with, or even been tainted by, the Power of Time.
The Power of Time roamed back and forth within the prison formed by his soul's shell, occasionally passing through his soul without leaving a trace, as if it were a mere illusion, nonexistent.
Lin Xiao stroked his chin, thinking hard for a long time. No matter what method he used, he couldn't touch or merge with it.
It was as if it didn't exist in this world, an intangible projection; he couldn't sense its presence at all, let alone refine it, and his progress stalled for the moment.
