Opening his eyes, the soul of a seventy-year-old technician is here.
My name is Tuoba Guang, and I am being held down by my whole family to be bled.
Reason: To "treat" my critically ill grandmother.
I could only pick up a jar.
"Bloodletting will kill people, let's do cupping, professional."
One jar saved my grandmother's life and sucked away one month of my aunt's life.
With two bottles, the eldest princess was cured and her enemies died of hemoptysis in the street.
Three jars, hold down the emperor of the enemy country, drain the country and restore our mountains and rivers.
...
They thought I was a lowly blood bag, but little did they know that I held a pot in one hand and life in the other.
From the time when the prince's family abandoned his son, to when he lost all his power, I only used three cans.
And the last can will be aimed at this turbid sky.
