The scent at the tip of her nose was chaotic.
Rong Zhi frowned, her gaze swept across the table as she carefully identified the raw materials that hadn't been destroyed.
Blackened, if it weren't for her extensive knowledge of the materials, she couldn't have distinguished what was on the table.
The competition was forced to pause; she asked for gloves and sorted out everything, placing them aside.
The others gathered around to watch her handle it, until Han Xiqiao returned after getting bandaged; she was injured, making it unlikely for her to continue the competition.
Rong Zhi picked up a half-charred herb, bringing it close to her nose; a pungent smell instantly invaded her nostrils.
She pressed her lips together, understanding the situation.
The herb, called Bone Scent, is a plant that grows near graves. She had seen it a few times when she accompanied Fu Liang to honor ancestors. Thumb-sized with sharp leaf edges, it has no real use.
