Mo Ling stared intently at the slime dripping from the small bottle.
It was transparent with a faint yellow tinge, and it dangled from the mouth of the bottle in a long, thin strand.
Old Xu seemed to treasure it. He poured just a little before immediately stopping.
"This stuff is precious; I've got to use it sparingly." He carefully used the cap to catch the slime on the bottle's lip before screwing it back on.
Mo Ling looked at the slime, and his stomach churned.
The unique flavor still lingered in his mouth, refusing to dissipate. It carried waves of a floral fragrance that was quite refreshing.
But once your mind rebels against something, even the most delicious food becomes nauseating.
Mo Ling felt the sensation, once gentle in his throat, now spread down his esophagus, as if something slimy was clinging to his insides.
The feeling kept overlapping with the image in his mind.
The toad in the gloomy waterway.
