Lin Qing's dry palm grabbed the flying wrought iron and threw it into the porcelain stove. At this time, the speed of the black fire was much slower. Under the control of Lin Qing's soul, it gradually surrounded the wrought iron. After a moment, the black fire gradually retreated. The original solid iron block also turned into a mass of hot metal, and then rotated over the flame.

Lin Qinghua's white eyebrows finally wrinkled, and his tiny eyes were fixed firmly on the molten iron in the magnet oven. His huge soul was also carefully sensing the temperature of the molten iron.

When Lin Qing senses the molten iron in...