Light flows, time flies, and in the blink of an eye, a month has passed.
On this day, Xu Ping, dressed in a blue-green Taoist robe, walked slowly into the depths of the medicinal garden.
His complexion was rosy, eyes bright, breath as steady as a mountain, clearly his cultivation technique had thoroughly stabilized.
At the deepest part of the medicinal garden, a spirit wood entirely purple-red quietly grew, approximately three meters high with lush branches and leaves.
The trunk was covered with flame-like red patterns, each leaf carved like purple jade, emitting a faint red light.
Xu Ping slowly walked around the Flame Prison Purple Wood, Divine Sense enveloping it, keenly feeling the life rhythm within.
"Begin the maturation!"
Xu Ping stood still, took a deep breath, eyes flickering with resolute light.
Maturing the spirit wood to the level of ten thousand years was no ordinary feat.
