In the corner of the Taixu Sect's miscellaneous courtyard, He Pingsheng was always being shouted at by his senior fellow apprentices. No one looked down upon this outer disciple who couldn't even accumulate low-grade Qi Gathering Pills. Until that night when he was cleaning the abandoned alchemy furnace, his fingertips touched a three-legged round basin covered with patina - a defective product that should have been discarded, but it actually glowed with warmth after he dripped blood.
When he threw a low-grade Qi Gathering Pill with a knocked corner into the basin, the two pills that floated up in the morning light the next day actually exuded a top-grade aura that made even the elders look at him. The ordinary "Qi-Entraining Jue" was put in, but when he took it out, it had turned into a yellowed ancient scroll. On the title page, the five seal characters "Tianjie·Hunyuan Gong" burned his eyes.
The rusty iron sword grew dragon patterns, the withered spiritual grass sprouted new shoots, and even the ten low-grade spiritual stones that were clenched in the palm of the hand were turning into piles of mid-grade spiritual stones with a faint blue luster.
No one knows that this handyman who always hides in the woodshed is using the secret of a pot to refine mundane things into valuable treasures for the path to immortality. When He Pingsheng walked out of the courtyard holding the first magic sword raised in the basin, the entire world of immortality did not know that a legend that relied on the "pot" to defy the heavens had just begun to be written.
