Sister Tian Meng watched without blinking.
She didn't understand alchemy, but she could feel how exquisite Huo Yuhao's technique was.
The medicinal ingredients seemed to come alive in his hands.
When to raise the temperature, when to lower it, when to stir, when to let the mixture sit—everything was perfectly timed, as if he had rehearsed it countless times.
At last, all the ingredients had been purified.
More than a dozen medicinal liquids floated above the cauldron, glowing in various colors.
Red, white, green, purple...
They were like brilliant stars.
Huo Yuhao took a deep breath, his gaze growing even more focused.
The next step was the most crucial one—combining them.
Each medicinal liquid had different properties.
Some were gentle, some violent; some complemented each other, while others clashed.
If he combined them in the wrong order or mistimed the process, the medicine's potency would be greatly reduced at best. At worst, the cauldron would explode.
But Huo Yuhao was confident.
He raised his right hand and gently moved his fingers.
The floating medicinal liquids seemed to be drawn by some invisible force and began to move slowly.
The first drop flowed in.
The second drop flowed in.
The third drop flowed in...
Each medicinal liquid joined the growing mass at precisely the right moment and in exactly the right proportion.
The flame burned below, providing the perfect temperature for the fusion.
Huo Yuhao's spiritual power darted back and forth among the liquids like a shuttle on a loom, guiding them as they merged and permeated one another.
Time passed second by second.
Who knew how long it had been—
At last, the fused liquid stopped churning.
It floated quietly above the flame, pure white and crystal clear, like a drop of moonlight made solid.
A faint medicinal fragrance wafted