Signing in for a Hundred Years: I Actually Became the Ancestor of the Sect

A handyman, a barren mountain, a hundred years of loneliness. He sweeps the floor and signs in every day, but no one knows about the pills and sword intent accumulated in the dilapidated cave. Until the heaven and earth visions startled the sky—— "Ancestor?" He looked at the monks kneeling at the mountain gate and sighed helplessly, "I'm just a sweeper."