Wang Fan took a deep breath, then gently turned off the flame.
He didn't rush to lift the lid. Letting it sit with the heat off would allow the impurities to settle, and the last bit of residual heat would squeeze out the very final trace of essence from the ingredients.
Here it comes!
Ding Li and the others all fixed their eyes on Wang Fan's fingers, clearly seeing his fingers begin to exert force.
"Ding."
The black clay pot lid lifted a corner, the lid tapping against the pot with a soft clink. Immediately after, the lid was fully lifted, and a dense cloud of steam surged straight up. Wang Fan, quick as lightning, scattered in a handful of chopped wild mountain scallions, then stopped moving altogether. At this moment the five of them reacted with uncanny synchronicity, actually holding their breath at the exact same time without prior agreement.
