"The form can vary," said Tang Xiadan as he flipped the coin, and by the time it landed on his palm, it had transformed into a brown mud-caked wine gourd. He uncorked the gourd and tilted it, as though pouring something out of it. Dark brown sand poured out, and as it did, the gourd shrank in size until it transformed into sand itself. Tang Xiadan brushed the pile of sand to the left and right, revealing an old, mottled, faded gold ring with a tree symbol inscribed on it.
"It can change into countless forms," Tang Xiadan commented as he spun the ring clockwise, and when it completed the rotation, its form had changed into a pumpkin seed. He flicked it to the side, it became a bamboo pin, and then a chopstick, a hand-sized mirror, a small rusty bell, a cockerel feather, before finally resuming its original form as a coin, its aura completely subdued.
