With Bai Mo's permission, the three from Divine Dao Mountain moved the Pill Furnace and other items aside.
Wu Yong flicked his sleeve, and several thick, dark-colored logs tumbled out.
With swift movements of their hands and blades, they split the wood. Then, they brought out all sorts of tools, looking for all the world like skilled carpenters.
Before long, a simple, octagonal altar had been erected in the middle of the quiet room, standing a little over half a man's height.
The altar's frame looked simple, but Bai Mo could smell the scent of sandalwood—the kind that had accumulated over many years, impossible to wash away.
An ordinary person who smelled it would find it difficult for any stray thoughts to arise in their mind.
'This caliber of scent... I can't imagine how much more superior it is to the medicinal incense I concoct.'
"We invite Kunwu True Monarch!!"
Wu Yong gave a deep shout as he lit three long sticks of incense, white smoke curling gracefully upwards.
