A cup of greenish, moss-scented tea was placed before him.
Feng Mountain hesitated.
'I wonder if the Witch's body can handle this tea.'
But faced with Old Swan's warm hospitality, Feng Mountain had no choice but to pick up the cup and take a tiny sip.
Instantly, his tongue protested in agony.
It was sour, bitter, and astringent, not to mention the dregs that scratched his throat.
Old Swan cheerfully picked up his own cup, took a large gulp, and said with relish, "Tastes good, doesn't it? Moss helps regulate the digestive system. It's good for you."
'It'll definitely regulate the digestive system, all right.'
He had only taken a small sip, and his stomach was already starting to gurgle.
'Another sip and I'll probably have a case of explosive diarrhea right here on the spot.'
