Chen Yang's heart was pounding in his chest.

Yet his hands were terrifyingly steady as he methodically tossed one sparkling low-grade spirit stone after another into what appeared to be an ordinary clay bowl.

The spirit stones clinked crisply as they landed at the bottom of the bowl, covering the fiery red reflection of the sun, and the sound echoed sharply in the silence of the attic.

In his mind, he was silently counting the number of stones consumed.