"Wait a second, red soil?"
Fang Yuan's mind jolted at the sight.
He stretched his hand out and grabbed the wall beside him, taking out a lump of red soil.
This red soil was very soft and emitted a faint red light. Fang Yuan merely pressed it lightly, but it crumbled down.
"So, it was like this." He seemed to have come to a realization.
The first time he had entered the secret cave inside the rock crack, he saw that the secret cave was full of this red soil which emitted faint glow; there was no need for any other lighting source.
He had felt it weird at the time because Qing Mao mountain's soil was blue-black in color. He had thought this was arranged by the Flower Wine Monk, but now it seemed that the source was this strange blood lake.
Fang Yuan felt even more wary; his five hundred years of experience had almost become an intuition.