The fires in the alchemical furnaces were lit, and the two began the intricate process of potion-making.
Lin Chen took a deep breath and followed the steps given by Xiao Shuai, tossing a few twig-like herbs into the pill cauldron.
As the medicinal ingredients were added, Lin Chen's hand gently patted the pill cauldron, controlling the temperature of the faint yellow flames as they roasted the twigs.
At the same time, Fang Zhantang also placed the twigs into the fire.
Fwoosh!
As soon as the withered spiritual roots were tossed into the furnace, they were immediately consumed by the intense flames.
At this moment, Wang Chen's eyes gleamed. No wonder Lin Chen used ordinary fire; the withered spiritual root naturally feared flame, and using a higher-grade fire would have easily burned it.
Fang Zhantang finally noticed the issue as well, and couldn't help but glance at Lin Chen with a trace of seriousness in his eyes.
