On the mountain at the back of Little Qiong Peak.
Standing beside a few withered old trees, Li Changshou frowned and sighed. He raised his hand and patted the trunk of one of them.
"Thank you."
A gust of wind blew over, and a few of the old trees' branches, which were completely devoid of green, swayed gently as if they were saying that they were fine.
Actually, they were probably just trembling.
There was nothing he could do about it. In order to get more paper effigies to engage in actual combat, Li Changshou had repeatedly gone there to obtain tree sap over the past six months. He had also used various methods to restore their vitality.
He conducted various processes…
The old spirit trees, which could have lived for tens of thousands of years and had hope of producing wood spirits, could not hold on any longer.
I'll just take good care of them.
Li Changshou sighed and felt a little guilty.