Qin Ming was truly startled, with a chill at his fingertips that began to seep into his hand—how could he possibly remain calm?
He immediately shook his hand vigorously, then tried to pull away.
A day had passed, the Sun Stone in the bronze basin was no longer as bright, and the room was dim. Yet even so, Qin Ming felt he should have noticed the mysterious substance earlier; he only discovered it through the tactile sensation on his hand.
He approached the basin, took out a piece of Sun Stone, and observed it under the remnants of the evening's fiery glow.
"Has a piece of ice melted?"
This ice-cold liquid was colorless and tasteless, easy to miss. When Qin Ming crushed the stone, it showed no signs of unusualness.
"Could this be rainwater that seeped into the rock, then froze, and was nourished by Heavenly Light, turning into a mysterious substance?" he wondered doubtfully.
Because this chilling liquid had no distinctiveness.
