The gale swept across the square of Fox Mountain.
Bai Mo sat on a fishing chair reclined next to the Alchemy Furnace, allowing the wind to rustle his clothes.
His Pill Fire blazed fiercely within the furnace, roasting the Forked Grass flying inside.
His Divine Sense was fully immersed in the furnace, observing the dance of every blade of Forked Grass.
Under the dual effect of Divine Sense and Pill Fire, the Forked Grass continuously withered, its stalks were burnt away, leaving behind forked leaves which gradually adhered together, forming a dense weave...
"When it involves Divination, when it involves metaphysics, many of the principles differ in the end."
"The reason Forked Grass restrains Divination has little to do with its medicinal properties, it's mainly about its shape."
"The key to refining also lies in its form, not particularly focusing on its medicinal properties."
Bai Mo muttered while reflecting on today's lessons, feeling he'd gained something new.
