A delightful smell instantly spread around the place, assaulting everyone's noses.
Holding a steaming, fragrant dish in one hand, Bu Fang stood above Spring Wind Pavilion.
The dish really smelled good. At just a glance, it had completely taken people's attention as if it had some sort of magic.
Bu Fang held the pot with a serious and cold face. The power released by the pot was simply frightening, and the fluctuations it let out made people's hearts palpitate.
Although it smelled amazing, people could feel its deadly presence. An ordinary person wouldn't dare go anywhere near the pot at all.
As Bu Fang held the iron pot in his hand, he could also feel the mental force of his spirit sea depleting rapidly, being constantly swallowed up by the iron pot.
In order to maintain the balance of the dish, as well as the will of the iron pot, the mental force he had to expend was enormous.
