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Respectful Praise

The sprinkling and misty drizzle gradually soaked Chen Changsheng's collar and cheeks.

The weeds and old leaves thrown near the ditch shone with pearls of dew and looked rather pleasing to the eye.

As the sun moved across the sky, he finished working the field. The Daoist boy appeared again and indicated that he should follow.

At the end of the seemingly boundless field of herbs were several lush hills. Winding through the hilly paths, he was greeted by a cloud of steam. Quite a few hot springs could be seen bubbling out from between pine and cypress trees.

Chen Changsheng found himself anticipating a dip in the hot springs. Just as he was prepared to untie his outer clothes, he saw a figure in the steam.

The pine and cypress maintained their vigor in the steam, but the most vigorous of all was the special moss growing on the rocks in the hot springs.