Ning Fan, unreserved, sat on the other side of the wooden table.
The little demoness conjured two glass tea cups as if by magic, pointing her delicate finger at the glass teapot above the red clay stove.
A stream of amber-colored tea shot out from the spout, splitting into two in mid-air, and fell into the two cups respectively.
The little demoness picked up one cup, blew on it, and took a light sip, her originally fair skin immediately flushing with a faint blush, as if intoxicated.
Ning Fan picked up his cup and took a small sip, his gaze suddenly deepening.
The tea was not hot, but it contained an extremely pure fire spirit power.
A small sip of tea held enough fire spirit power that, if fully unleashed, could burn mountains and rivers within thousands of miles to ashes!
If a fire cultivator were to drink this tea and refine all the fire spirit power in that small sip, it would be enough to increase half a yuanhui's worth of mana.
