Shi Luoyi didn't notice Cang Wu on the tree. She followed Uncle Liu to the corner gate in the backyard and immediately saw the young man under the eaves.
Bian Lingyu had originally been guarding a small, delicate purple clay alchemy furnace. Normally, he refined pills in the backyard, but since it was raining today, raindrops pattered on the tiles, gathering into strings of crystal beads that fell one after another.
So Bian Lingyu had moved the dan furnace under the eaves. With his eyes downcast, he was handling a piece of spiritual material. Even while doing such mundane work, his silver-white robes remained spotless—like a refined young master who had mistakenly wandered into the world of fireworks.