Nine Tribulations God-Killing Technique

"Here, trash, today's meal." Zhao Hu picked up a bucket of leftover soup and paused it at his feet, grinning maliciously. Several followers burst into laughter. "Eat quickly, Yang Ping. What are you doing standing there in a daze? Senior Brother Zhang has specially left the 'good stuff' for you!" "Ten years have passed, and we are still in the early stages of body refining. We are trash made of iron and smelly rocks in the mud!" The sarcasm was sharp and harsh, hitting his already numb nerves. Ten years. How long does it take for dust to fall from the clouds? Qingyun City gave him the answer: overnight.