It's just such a small patch of land, yet it hosts a plant that catches the eye; amidst the pure white snow, the undeniable fragrance of flora compels an involuntary tremor in one's steps. The two or three pieces of toothed green leaves are adorned with purple and white blossoms.
"Can you tell how old it is?" Xiao Xian was stunned by the sight of this human and wild ginseng coexistence.
That pleasantly fragrant, nearly mature wild ginseng seemed like the poison apple in the hand of a queen, leading every discoverer to want to take a bite.
"At least a millennium old," that scent seemed to possess a numbing effect, as Zhou Ziang felt that the broken bone in his arm didn't hurt as much anymore.
The Purple Ginseng in his space, when mature, was of a millennial grade. While this ginseng wasn't yet mature, the visual and olfactory shock it provided was enough to prove its extraordinary nature.
