```
Real yet unreal, searching and searching.
Ye Feng looked at his left hand, which was empty — the box from his dream didn't exist. He hadn't had the chance to open it to look inside, yet somehow, as if he could foresee the future, he knew it contained three different ancient needles, and each needle represented a type of Needle Technique.
Was it merely a coincidence?
Ye Feng sighed, thinking of the woman in his dream. A wave of sadness rose from the depths of his heart, much like the emotion of that emperor-like figure. In the dream, he seemed to be that emperor clad in golden armor, empathetically experiencing everything.
But it wasn't quite so — everyone in a dream is but a passerby.
"Old Long, whose legacy did you give me?"
Ye Feng condensed his spirit in contemplation.
