Three days passed in the blink of an eye.
During these three days, Fang Hao did not take a single step out of Tingtao Villa, claiming to the outside world that the pill duel had been too taxing and he needed to enter secluded meditation to recuperate. In reality, besides repairing and strengthening the golden puppet, he was frantically making various preparations—drawing high-grade Talismans, familiarizing himself with the performance of that third-tier azure spirit boat, nourishing the few remaining nine-revolutions soul-splitting pills in the chaos pill cauldron, and even setting up a small one-way teleportation formation in a corner of his room. Although the teleportation distance was only a hundred li, it might save his life at a critical moment.
He was like a startled rabbit, ears pricked and nerves taut, with all his quills exposed, ready at any moment to respond to a potentially fatal blow.
