The morning fog has not yet cleared, but the courtyard at the outer gate of the Hehuan Sect is already busy.
Lin Feng poured the last bucket of spiritual spring water into the water tank in the alchemy room and wiped the sweat from his forehead. The cuffs of his gray uniform were worn white. Compared with the brightly dressed, chatting and laughing outer disciples around him, he looked like an ink drop accidentally dropped on a painted painting.
"Lin Feng, have you finished the pest control work in the medicine field?" Fatty Zhang, the man in charge, walked over with his belly swaying.
"Go back to Manager Zhang and it will be completed before Chen time."
"Hmm." Fatty Zhang looked at him with a look, a trace of contempt flashed in his eyes, "You said that you have been in the Hehuan Sect for ten years and you haven't even broken through to the first level of Qi refining. If you hadn't been so diligent in your work..."
Lin Feng didn't listen carefully to what he said next. In the past ten years, he has heard such words countless times.
Without spiritual roots, a useless person in cultivation, a shame for the Hehuan Sect.
These labels hit him like a brand. The lowest servant in the sect can theoretically be promoted to an outer disciple if he can bring Qi into his body within three years. But after ten years, his body is still empty.
