"Smells amazing!"
Yang An held a cup of tea as he sat on a stone bench, a beaming smile spreading across his face.
However, what he drank was not tea brewed by Old Man Zhuanyu, but spring water Old Man Zhuanyu had brought out separately.
In Old Man Zhuanyu's words, only women drank that stuff.
What he himself was drinking, however, was something ordinary people could not drink, so he had not let Yang An try it.
As for the tea leaves, they were the red flowers growing on the crooked-necked tree overhead.
The moment it entered his mouth, it gave him a very strange sensation. The tea was clearly icy cold, soaking into his heart and spleen and bringing Yang An a trace of chill, yet at the same time, it made his entire body feel incomparably relaxed.
Ever since he had come to this world, it felt as though his nerves had never stopped being taut, yet at this moment, they unexpectedly loosened, leaving him utterly comfortable.
Of course, this tea was no ordinary thing, and drinking it came at a price.
The price was the temporary and random loss of one of the five senses, be it sight or touch.
Yet the instant the tea entered his mouth, Yang An purified it and erased the cost.
If he did not want Old Man Zhuanyu to notice afterward, he could simply pretend to have lost his sense of taste. In any case, taste was not much use to cultivators.
"I have more than forty disciples in total. Now that you've entered my sect, you're the youngest. Once we return to the Golden Thread Pavilion, you must properly meet your senior brothers and sisters. You'll need them to look after you in the future."
Old Man Zhuanyu spoke to