Doctor Du Zemu stood in the sunlight, eyes closed, a look of ecstasy on his face, his arms moving slightly as if conducting an orchestra.
With his rhythm, the nearly transparent light mist in the bowl whirled and flowed in the air.
The Spirit Turtle stared with its beady eyes, stretching its neck, sadly watching the mist fall into the box nearby, its mouth twitching.
Zheng Qing held his breath, watching the mist, afraid that a slight breath would blow away these precious things.
After all, this wisp of mist costs twelve gold beans!
He could only use a bit of his scholarship money to cover the costs for now.
Having paid this money, nearly all of his spare time next week would have to be used to draw talismans, to make up for the deficit.
It was not until the mist quietly disappeared into the noses of the sprites that he heaved a great sigh of relief.
