Yu Fenghai’s brow furrowed as the unmistakable scent of blood lingered heavily in the air. It was not a smell one could mistake for something else.
The warm, metallic tang of fresh blood seemed to mingle with something timely, possessing the warm and exasperating sense of life.
His sharp eyes scanned the box in front of him, but the moment he saw what lay inside, his breath was caught in his chest.
Inside the box were tiles of Blood Spirit Herbs.
The herb appeared ordinary at first glance, but the instant Yu Fenghai’s gaze locked onto it, he felt something stir deep within his soul.
It wasn’t just the herb itself, but the very energy that the herbs exuded. The Blood Spirit Herb radiated an overwhelming presence, its blood-red tendrils pulsating in time with a heartbeat.
A strange aura surrounded it, as if it were alive, more so than anything he had ever encountered in all his years of cultivation, alchemy and appraisal.