"It's quite interesting." (*︶*)

Fang Rong slapped him across the face. "What do you take this for? Be serious."

"Mm." Fang Hua put away the bowl. He had poured too much water while playing, so the top was watery and the bottom was dry, which showed that he was not very skilled.

"Let me do it." Fang Rong pushed him aside, rolled up her sleeves and got to work. First, she made a hole in the powder to let the water flow down, then she moistened the dry part at the bottom and stirred it evenly.

Fang Hua sat obediently to the side and watched, occasionally reaching out to touch it. The stirred powder was a paste that needed to be shaped into balls, and he would interfere whenever he found it fun. Fang Rong, of course, didn't like this and would slap him every now and then.

Normally, mixing medicine and making pills should only take ten minutes or so, but he dragged it out for more than half an hour.

"Are you here to make things worse?" (ー△ー；).

"No, I just wanted to help Fang Rong with her work," Fang Hua said innocently.

"If you really want to help, go get me a glass of water. I'm dying of thirst."

"Okay." Fang Hua nodded obediently and got up to pour him some water.

Fang Rong continued grinding the medicine into powder, then mixed it with water and kneaded it into pills. There were no disposable gloves here, and although he had washed his hands, he still felt a little uncomfortable. Anyway, he wouldn't eat the medicine he made himself.

After he finished several rounds, Fang Hua still hadn't returned.

Fang Rong got up and went out to see what was happening. Fang Hua, looking rather foolish, was standing behind the clan leader, holding a cup, negotiating with a few people.

Besides Fang Hua, several other people stood beside the clan leader, all looking as if they were facing a formidable enemy, as if the person standing opposite them was no ordinary person.

Fang Rong went back and told Bazaar, "Several people are coming this way."

Bazar didn't care at all. "Isn't this normal?" He must be impatient for the antidote. He's been urging him so often that he's experienced.

“It’s not them.” Those people had a rather peculiar demeanor, effeminate and resembling snakes. “They are from the Bashe tribe.”

Every snake in the Bashe tribe is venomous, and their aura is naturally yin and cool.

These people came out before they even went in; they're probably either plotting something or need something from someone.

Sure enough, the clan chief exchanged a few words with them and gradually relaxed. However, fearing that they might play some tricks, he dared not let his guard down. A dozen or so people had already slowly arrived at the entrance of the medicine shop. Bazaar came out to greet them, and Fang Rong and the other apprentices followed behind.

Because he learned the fastest, he had already advanced to the rank of wizard, so he was only half a step behind Bazaar.

There was an old shaman who was getting on in years and didn't come out often. Basically, the bazaar would take charge of any illnesses or pains.

The bazaar bowed and performed a greeting. The etiquette here is rather strange: two fingers are placed side by side on the forehead, which seems to have some special meaning.

Just like when they get married, they draw a line on their forehead, which is a very important part of their face, as it is a sign of respect.

Fang Rong doesn't understand this interpretation, but following it is still possible.

Several orcs from the Bashe tribe also bowed. The moment their eyes were exposed to the sunlight, a black line appeared in them, like a snake. They were indeed from the Bashe tribe.

The chieftain introduced them, saying, "This is our tribe's bazaar shaman, the bazaar. They have come seeking medical help."

Seeking medical help?

Fang Rong seemed to be deep in thought. Every race has its own shamans. Is it necessary to seek medical help from other races?

Moreover, at this time, you must know that the Leopard Clan's chance to cross over to the Snake Clan depends entirely on the shaman. If anything happens to the shaman, they are definitely doomed.

Bazaar nodded. "Where is the patient?"

These people are all strong and healthy; they are clearly not patients.

“Our prince is ill, and his status is special. May we ask you to accompany him?” One of the Bashe tribesmen bowed again. “We have brought a deposit, and we will return half of it if the matter is successful.”

The man waved his hand, and the person behind him took out several wooden boxes. The boxes were opened, revealing something glittering with gold inside.

Refined!

Fang Rong's eyes widened suddenly.

This stuff is so rare, we can barely keep up with its absorption, yet we're using it as medicine money. The Bashe tribe is really generous.

"We found this in a flying metal box. By then, they had killed many people and were infamous. In the end, they died within our tribe."

That's probably why they're so willing to part with it.

A flying metal box? It sounds like an airplane, or maybe a spaceship.

How did the spaceship end up in this place and get killed by the Bashe clan?

But thinking about it, it makes sense. This place is full of poisonous snakes and flowers; it would be strange if someone didn't die.

If it really is something like an airplane or spaceship, you should definitely go and take a look, just in case you find something usable, like a mecha.

Every spaceship has glass; you can remove one piece and use it as a skylight.

Of course, we need to figure out the purpose of the Bashe troops.

"Our Bashe tribe's shamans are only skilled at making poisons, not healing, which is why we hope to ask the bazaar shaman for help." There are only two migrations a year, meaning only two opportunities; if you miss them, you'll have to wait until next year. The people of the Bashe tribe spoke very sincerely.

"I see." Bazaar hesitated.

"Don't worry, even if we can't cure you, we'll still let you pass." The person from the Bashe tribe seemed to know his concerns.

The clan chief nodded to Baza.

Bazaar reluctantly agreed, "Alright, I'll just try. I can't guarantee it will cure you."

Fang Rong breathed a sigh of relief. If Baza had refused, he really wouldn't know how to get to the Bashe clan. After all, there were so many venomous snakes and creatures, and one wrong move could have killed him.

"Wait a moment, I'll go back and prepare." Baza turned and went into the house, and Fang Rong followed him in.

"Take me with you," he said earnestly. "I can help in some way."

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