The room was full of incense smoke and nervousness. Yang Qing's breath left him as he saw Li Gang open his noble, sculpted, shifty mouth.
"What the owner of said Resting Root Spirit Oak requires is one of these," said Li Gang, pausing in dramatic fashion to ensure he had fully captured everybody's attention, even though there was no need for it. The Resting Root Spirit Oak tree had done that perfectly well by itself with its iridescent, tender leaves and young shoots.
"They want either two hundred low-tier blue-grade pills or potions capable of treating and guarding against miasma capable of killing a Palace Realm expert.
