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... nd melodic as she pointed toward a narrow clearing nestled between the gnarled roots of a towering silverwood tree.

"There’s the Hollow Yeklo Grass!"

Fang Yuan’s eyes snapped in the direction she pointed, narrowing instinctively.

And there, resting between braided roots, partially cloaked in spiritual mist were ten glowing sprouts of greenish-gold.

Their leaves shimmered faintly, a gentle hum of spiritual resonance pulsing from them in tune with the air itself.

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