Seeing the sudden appearance of a sword in Wang Guan’s hand, Pi Qiushi, Old Meng, and Sha Qingfeng were naturally astonished.

The statue of Lü Zu was only about forty or fifty centimeters tall, yet the long sword in Wang Guan's hand far exceeded that length. It was impossible for the statue to conceal such a long weapon, so they naturally suspected he was performing a magic trick.

"I'm not a magician, how could I conjure a sword out of thin air?" Wang Guan chuckled lightly. "Besides, I would have liked to conjure one, but I haven't possessed this treasured sword until today."

"What happened then?" Pi Qiushi’s eyes widened slightly, utterly confused by the situation.

"The item was hidden inside the wooden statue."

Wang Guan gestured, "As you all saw, the statue's arms are articulated. When I just touched it slightly, the long sword sprang out, knocking the wooden arm clean off, which revealed the hilt. I simply took it from there."

"A sword this long hidden inside such a small wooden statue?" Sha Qingfeng looked completely dumbfounded, his expression laced with suspicion.

"Who says it can't be hidden? See for yourselves."

Wang Guan smiled and stepped back two paces, allowing the other three a clear view of the statue's interior. The trio immediately gathered around, scrutinizing it closely. Only then did they realize that the inside of the statue had been hollowed out, creating a storage space.

However, this realization only deepened their suspicion, as they estimated the space could easily hold three or five bricks, but absolutely not a long sword.

Seeing this, Old Meng decisively declared, "Unless the long sword can be folded..."

"The long sword cannot be folded, but it can be bent," Wang Guan laughed. He suddenly reached out, pressing down on the spine near the tip of the blade. With slight pressure, the gleaming sword curved as easily as soft noodles, wrapping snugly around his waist like a belt.

"Ah..."

Witnessing this, Pi Qiushi and the others were once again struck speechless, disbelief etched onto their faces.

Of course, the sword was metal, and even with incredible flexibility, there was a limit. Once the blade was bent into a significant arc, Wang Guan’s fingers could no longer press it further, and he felt a rebound force surge, prompting him to immediately release his grip.

"Whoosh!"

In an instant, the blade sprang lightly in the air, trembled briefly, and instantly snapped back to its perfectly straight form, the ripple-like luster becoming even more pronounced.

"This..." Pi Qiushi was shocked. "Is this what they call the metal memory function?"

"It should be," Wang Guan replied with a smile. "After all, the object was pressed inside the statue’s storage space for who knows how many years, yet it sprang back straight upon release. It is certainly on the same level as the Qin swords unearthed from the Mausoleum of the First Qin Emperor."

Admittedly, according to the scientific team’s research, the Qin swords from the First Qin Emperor's mausoleum were graded. The lowest tier comprised the swords carried by the rank-and-file Terracotta Warriors; being mere burial accompaniments, their craftsmanship was inferior, making them brittle and prone to breaking.

The middle tier consisted of swords used by common soldiers, incorporating advanced post-casting techniques, resulting in a hard exterior and a resilient interior—very practical battlefield weapons. A step above that were the swords carried by high-ranking generals, featuring finer manufacturing and superior sharpness.

However, the highest tier was this type of sword possessing the metal memory function. These were the personal swords carried by the First Qin Emperor’s elite bodyguards. Legend says that upon excavation, one such sword, having been bent under the weight of a Terracotta Warrior for over two millennia, instantly straightened upon removal of pressure—a metal memory effect more potent than modern memory alloys.

But at this very moment, Pi Qiushi and the others had no appetite for discussing technical principles. Having confirmed that the long sword in Wang Guan’s hand was indeed hidden within the wooden statue, the three exchanged looks of envy and resentment. The pleasant surprise of the Ge Kiln three-legged incense burner had barely faded before Wang Guan unearthed another sword that looked incredibly potent. What luck was this?

"Brother Pi, I now understand what you said earlier," Sha Qingfeng sighed involuntarily.

Pi Qiushi had just mentioned that spending time with Wang Guan would reveal that finding a Ge Kiln burner was child's play for him, a statement Sha Qingfeng hadn't fully believed. Now, he finally understood that there was a type of person whose luck was outrageously heaven-defying, seemingly existing solely to undermine others. If one couldn't adopt a broader perspective, they would eventually choke on their own frustration to death.

"That’s an exaggeration," Wang Guan smiled. "I just noticed that the crack on the wooden statue's arm looked unnatural, not following the wood grain, so I touched it out of curiosity, and the object popped out."

"Young friend saying that makes us utterly ashamed," Old Meng lamented at the same time. "This truly isn't about luck; and even if it were luck, it's a reward Little Brother deserves. While we dismissed the carved statue, only Little Brother diligently examined and explored it. This passion and sincerity toward ancient artifacts means any harvest is well-earned."

Hearing this, Pi Qiushi and Sha Qingfeng paused, then nodded in agreement, feeling a degree of shame. It wasn't just them; Wang Guan also inwardly sighed, feeling undeserving of the praise, as he hadn't been as sincere as Old Meng described—he was essentially using a cheat code.

Wang Guan certainly wouldn't reveal that, but accepting such praise felt wrong. He immediately changed the subject, pointing at the blade. "Come look, there are characters engraved on this..."

"What characters?"

Instantly, the other three crowded around. The markings on the sword could be called an inscription, essentially a kuan (style/signature), providing crucial information for deducing the sword's origin and era.

However, when the three saw the inscription, they immediately understood why Wang Guan had sounded hesitant when mentioning the characters. Although there were only two characters inscribed, the script was exceptionally archaic, having fallen out of use for at least two thousand years, making it unrecognizable to the average person.

"Bird-and-Worm Seal Script!"

At first glance, Pi Qiushi scratched his head, yet he was mixed with delight. "This sword is actually a pre-Qin artifact; it seems to be related to the same lineage as the Sword of Goujian of Yue."

"It's from the Spring and Autumn/Warring States period..." Old Meng and Sha Qingfeng were completely stunned. When they recovered, their eyes blazed with fervent light, and their breathing grew ragged.

Mentioning the Sword of Goujian of Yue, the two instantly grasped the true value of this sword. Compared to it, the Ge Kiln incense burner was nothing—truly child's play, entirely incomparable.

No matter how much the Ge Kiln three-legged incense burner was hyped, it would fetch perhaps one or two million US dollars at most. But a treasured sword from the Spring and Autumn/Warring States period was different; its potential for leverage was far greater, and its intrinsic worth was on a completely different level.

Moreover, the sword’s condition was excellent, and crucially, it possessed that powerful metal memory function, allowing it to be bent and hidden in the small space of the wooden statue, remaining undiscovered for countless years. This point alone warranted significant literary attention.

Furthermore, the poem on the side of the niche could be explored deeply: The sleeve conceals a green serpent’s bold spirit. Perhaps this sword was the relic of the Taoist immortal, Lü Dongbin himself...

Whether credible or not, in Chinese history, besides Li Taibai (Li Bai) famous as the Immortal of Wine and Poetry, Lü Dongbin is known as the Immortal of Swords. Folk legends tell tales of Lü Dongbin wandering the world with his sword, spitting out a word, and a flying sword instantly severing a head a thousand miles away.

Since the sword was found inside the statue of Lü Zu, linking it to Lü Dongbin is not an overly forced connection. You disagree? Fine, produce your evidence first.

Hype is inherently a mixture of truth and fabrication, reality and illusion. If you take it too seriously, are you trying to spoil the fun? Alright, one must concede that the claim linking the sword to Lü Dongbin might be tenuous, but the fact that it is a pre-Qin artifact—that must be true.

Calculating backward, it has been over two millennia since the pre-Qin era. Across such a vast span of time, the sword remains lustrous, its entire surface adorned with exquisite patterns, showing no signs of decay.

Among the numerous weapons unearthed in China, those that can achieve this are exceedingly few. Even those that can, like the Sword of Goujian of Yue or the Qin swords from the First Qin Emperor's Mausoleum, are national treasures housed in local museums. Ordinary people can only buy tickets to visit and catch a few glimpses through a protective glass case; there is no chance for close contact.

Furthermore, those are unearthed relics, treasures forbidden by law from being traded on the open market. Even if you try to overwhelm the situation by waving a checkbook, you cannot legally buy them for your private collection.

But this sword before them is different. It is not an unearthed relic; it can even be called an heirloom. Even if it goes to auction, it can be openly and confidently publicized and hyped to draw the attention of major domestic and international collectors. With just a little push at that time, it would likely fetch another astronomical price.

Out of professional instinct, the moment Old Meng and Sha Qingfeng saw the inscription on the blade, numerous ideas flashed through their minds, and they had already drafted several plans for how to promote it. However, once they sobered up, they exchanged glances and sighed in unison. They possessed the skill to slay a dragon, but Wang Guan wasn't cooperating—what were they to do?

Setting aside the two men's bittersweet resignation, Wang Guan, upon seeing the unrecognizable Bird-and-Worm Seal Script, did not hesitate. He pulled out his phone, took two pictures of the seal script, and then composed a text message to Elder Qian, simply asking for the meaning of the two characters. Wang Guan was certain Elder Qian would be highly interested.

And so it proved. Shortly after the message was successfully sent, within two or three minutes, Elder Qian’s callback arrived. The very first sentence he spoke left Wang Guan momentarily stunned. This "stunned" feeling wasn't confusion, but a blankness resulting from extreme excitement, his mind going utterly blank, his thoughts momentarily frozen.

Wang Guan couldn't recall exactly what Elder Qian said afterward, but the meaning of the two Bird-and-Worm Seal Script characters was deeply imprinted in his mind: "Sword of Hegemony, Gong Bu..." RS