The invisibility powder was red, sometimes turning dark crimson, sometimes pale pink, and occasionally shifting into a transparent red.
This powder allowed witches to isolate themselves from magic for a short time and blend into their surroundings.
Jiang Han had modified it based on Miss Qiao Rou's research project.
Though she had made a little extra, the successful powder still left Jiang Xuan utterly shocked:
"It actually worked!"
Jiang Han bit her lip and covered her face.
"So you thought it was going to fail from the very beginning?"
Holding that large bag of invisibility powder in both hands, Jiang Xuan swayed her way to the door. Then she tilted her head, thought for a moment, and answered:
"Aren't we creatures who fail all the time? We learn from failure. A witch who succeeds on the first try is rare—and besides, a product that hasn't exploded yet just feels a little wrong."
So this girl treated explosions as a necessary step in the process... Jiang Han felt that witches' way of thinking was simply too strange. Normally, an explosion meant insufficient stability or operational failure. But to many witches, an explosion was merely part of the process—a step for testing whether the work had been done seriously enough.
Heh. Ignorant witches, clever witches, superstitious yet faithless witches, contradictory witches.
Jiang Han hurried after her and helped her mother, who was not much taller than herself, push open the door.
"Making things doesn't require explosions." Jiang Han crouched down and helped Miss Xuan put on her pink fluffy slippers, then patted her calf, attempting to shatter a witch housewife's superstitious mindset.
Jiang Xuan, however, did not care in the slightest. She gave a snort.
"But I like explosions."
There was no helping that.
Though witches were multi-threaded creatures, Jiang Han had