Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
On this day, after Lu Yuan had finished an hour's exercise in the morning, he went, as usual, to check on his apprentice.
Upon entering the room, the strong scent of herbs still attacked his senses, but to accompany, a faint aroma of ink also hung in the air.
In the room, Zhou Qing was propped up on the bed, with a small table setup in front of him, strewn with paper and ink, and he was feverishly writing.
Seeing this scene, Lu Yuan frowned, "Xiaoqing, didn't I tell you? There is no urgency, if there aren't any ideas now, none will come. Anyway, the Blood Jade Centipede won't spoil so soon, there's plenty of time to think."
Ever since he had given his apprentice a task three days ago, the young man had been thinking about it day and night, pushing aside the needs of sleep or food, completely. He was engrossed in thinking of a solution to the issue of handling the Blood Jade Centipede.