Frost Furnace Does Not Meet the Immortal

Indigo stone steps wind between the clouds, and glazed tile eaves kiss the mist-shrouded sky. This place is called Shangjiuye, the capital of pharmacists. Spiritual veins hang down from the sky, turning hundreds of grasses into dotted medicinal seals. Morning dew condenses on silver needle leaves. At the top, the dancing butterflies and buzzing buzzes all carry the rhythm of medicinal properties. Wherever the wind blows, the fragrance of medicinal medicine curls through the forest like a jade flute, weaving the entire foothills into a flowing incense paper. Here, the pharmacist Yu Liqing will unfold a story that may be relaxing or tragic.