My name is Chen Zhuo, and I am a hexagram master.
Yesterday, through precise calculations, I picked up a ten-thousand-year-old blood Ganoderma lucidum from the aftermath of the battle between the two Nascent Soul bosses, which is as rich as the enemy.
Today, I was just passing by Fangshi when I was treated as a soft persimmon by an escaping demon cultivator and punched me.
In order to save my life, I had to swallow the blood Ganoderma on the spot to resist the blow.
The result was that I was bleeding all over my body and my meridians were swollen and painful. I lay in bed for three days and my cultivation level increased a little.
And there are still only three low-grade spiritual stones left in my storage bag.
Looking at my empty hands, I finally realized:
In this life, I may never experience what it feels like to be "rich".
My spiritual path is an endless cycle of racing against the "poor god".
A novel combination of hexagrams and images