Fang Rong's scheme succeeded, and with a tremor of her hand, the medicine and the bowl fell to the ground.
Fang Hua wagged its tail, catching every drop of the spilled medicine back into the bowl, and then handed it back to Fang Rong.
"..." I really don't want to drink it, it's too bitter.
Fang Hua looked at him expectantly, "I stayed up for more than two hours."
"..." Don't look at me like that.
“I also gathered herbs for the wizard.” He lifted his arm, revealing bruises and claw marks. “I’ve been injured a lot.”
The orc world is so rich in minerals that the various medicinal herbs that grow there have miraculous effects. The local orcs all know this, and they keep an eye on them every day when they first sprout, waiting for them to mature before harvesting them. So every time you gather herbs, you have to defeat them, which is very hard work.
"..." Fang Rong sighed, "Fine, I'll drink it, okay?"
That medicine was so bitter, I don't know what they put in it, it was several times more bitter than snake gall, I couldn't even bring myself to drink it. After drinking it, my whole mouth was bitter, I couldn't taste anything, and I had no appetite at all.
Fang Rong pinched her nose, swallowed hard with a bitter face, and said, "Quickly make me some fruit juice, I can't take it anymore."
Fang Hua was already prepared. He ran back into the cave with a big smile and brought a bowl of freshly boiled sweet soup to Fang Rong.
Fang Rong ignored the heat and drank it down in a few gulps. After drinking it, her mouth still tasted bitter, but it was much better than before, and at least she could taste the sweetness.
He took some time to brew another pot, drinking it himself while sealing the rest away so he could drink it whenever it tasted bitter, saving himself the time of making it fresh each time.
Because of the bitterness, he started thinking about sweet things, like milk tea. He was definitely not the only one in the forest who suffered from bitterness; many children's parents must have suffered a lot too. Making it can be considered a blessing for the forest.
Fang Rong asked Fang Hua to carry a bowl to collect milk, whatever kind of milk it was, they would take it, and she also planned to take the little foxes out to catch honey.
After considering the potential danger, he told them to stand far away, and then used his supernatural abilities to indirectly touch the beehive.
The honeycomb in the primeval forest is exceptionally large, about the size of a round plate that can seat ten people. It's filled with honey, and bees the size of a thumb are flying around, looking quite troublesome.
Fang Rong used his superpower to push it, but the honeycomb remained firmly fixed on it, not moving an inch. His body was not yet fully recovered, and his superpower had shrunk by half. He couldn't defeat such a large honeycomb, and all of these honeycombs were so big that there were none that were small.
The sun was blazing, and Fang Rong couldn't stand it, so he hid under a tree to cool off. He continued to relentlessly wield his Mo Dao (a type of long-handled sword) to slash at the ground. When the bees saw their target, they swarmed around it, completely surrounding the Mo Dao. An ordinary person would have been exhausted by this, but Fang Rong was using his special ability, so he was fine, just a little tired.
He brandished his longsword, and layers of honey peeled off, like large scars on his body; it felt somewhat satisfying to peel them off all at once.
With his tireless efforts, a small piece of the honeycomb finally broke off, and Fang Rong was overjoyed, using his supernatural power to catch the fallen honeycomb.
There was still a lot of honey on it, but he used his supernatural power to drive it away. Finally, he wrapped a small piece of honeycomb in a cloth and happily took it away.
That medicine was so bitter, I had to get honey no matter what.
He returned early, ahead of Fang Hua, without telling her. Fang Hua didn't want him to go out and mess around. On one hand, she was worried that he would be attacked, and on the other hand, she was worried about his health. She wished he could stay in bed forever.
Fang Rong put the honey into a pot and simmered it over a low flame. He wasn't burning firewood, but rather the oil essence given to him by his fox parents. It was said to be a kind of groundwater, like magma, that could be kept burning. A little bit on the ground could burn for half a day, and it was natural, pollution-free, and very convenient to use.
He doesn't know how to process honey; he just intuitively feels that cooked honey should taste better. There's no internet here, so he can't search online; everything depends on his own initiative.
The boiled honey is very thick; when you scoop it out with a spoon, a long stream of liquid comes out from the bottom.
Several little foxes were perched in front of the stone table, their little noses twitching, looking incredibly cute.
Fang Rong took out a small bowl, scooped a spoonful for each of them, and gave them to hold. The little foxes' eyes lit up, and they almost licked the bottom of the bowl to pieces.
The honey contained honeycomb, though it was very thin and seemed inedible. After Fang Rong cooked it, she sifted it through a coarse linen cloth, and there was still quite a bit of honey on the cloth.
Honestly, honey harvesting is not easy, and he really didn't want to waste a single drop. He put the pot in a corner and planned to deal with it in a couple of days.
Of course, I drank quite a bit of it during that time. This is pure wild honey, with a strong floral fragrance, sweet but not cloying, and a faint herbal taste.
This stuff was supposedly a highly effective tonic in traditional Chinese medicine, but due to rampant counterfeiting, its value gradually declined, and it became something specifically for women to nourish yin and yang. It has never been able to fully realize its potential, which is a pity.
Fang Hua hadn't returned by the time Fang Rong finished. He probably couldn't handle the cows. The herd had been scared away as soon as he approached, and it took him a long time to catch them. He finally managed to catch one cow, but she was so frightened that she wouldn't produce any milk.
Fang Hua had to change his target. He didn't know if he was too nervous or what, but none of the cows produced milk. He waited for a long time and became impatient. The cow was so scared that its limbs trembled, afraid that he would eat it.
The calves, being rather ignorant, kept running under it to drink milk, and they seemed to enjoy it, which meant there was still milk in it.
Fang Hua tentatively squeezed it with his hand, and a white line shot out. He realized that waiting was useless; it wouldn't shoot out immediately, and he had to squeeze it to get it out.
He was holding the shell of a fruit, as big as a watermelon, with a very hard exterior. The cow was very large and produced a lot of milk, enough to fill a shell the size of a watermelon. After milking, he carried the shell back home.
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