I used my heavenly spiritual roots to knock on the gate of immortality, but I was assigned to the outer gate with thin spiritual energy.
He lived in a leaky thatched house, received moldy Bigu Pills, and even the cultivation manual was missing three key pages.
Until that night, I heard the outer sect disciples next door discussing how to refine the Nine-turn Resurrection Pill.
"The seventh ingredient of this elixir is not in the right amount." I couldn't help but interrupt.
In the silence of the house, the sweeper suddenly revealed his natal flying sword: "Girl, how did you know this is an ancient elixir?"
The kitchen lady took off her apron, and aura surged around her body: "Little junior sister, you are very good at using a colander."
The watchdog yawned and murmured: "I just told her that she peeks at us practicing every day."
I held half a piece of cold steamed bun and shivered: What is the average Nascent Soul stage for this group of outer disciples?
