The Formless Ancient Race, Ancestral Vein Secret Realm...
Outside the round oiled paper window, the shadows of trees overlapped heavily.
The flower branches rustled and swayed in the wind, creating a sound that lifted one's spirits.
In the small study, Tang Xiaokong crossed his legs, brewed a pot of tea, and poured two cups. Upon seeing Song Yan, he suddenly seemed to remember something and smiled, saying, "Forgot, forgot, this old man loves tea, so I brewed a cup for you as well. However, I also have wine and spiritual liquid here; you can drink whatever you like."
Saying this, he raised his hand, and one by one, exquisitely crafted jade bottles were arranged on the old wooden table.
Tang Xiaokong leisurely shook his leg, picked up a cup of tea, and sipped it with a "tsk tsk," then sighed comfortably and looked up at the sky, as if pondering some question.
Song Yan took the tea and sipped it.
The tea was very mild.
It had no special effects.
