"Is this useless material worthy of becoming an immortal?"
I was kicked into a waste elixir room filled with thousands of years of garbage. Everyone said that no one who went in came out alive.
But they don't know—I'm an antique appraiser, and what I'm best at is picking up treasures from junk.
Deep in the abandoned alchemy room, the ancient jade passed down from the family is burned into the forehead: [Activation of the leakage picking system]
From then on, I used the cracked Peiyuan Pill to wash the marrow and cut the bones, and exchanged the waste pill residue for the treasure of the refiner. The genius alchemist chased me and asked how he did it. The senior sister blocked my hand, and the daughter of the sect leader blushed and said she was responsible.
But I didn't tell them—in ancient jade, there were scenes of parents being imprisoned. Above the gods of this world is a sealed cage.
They say I pick up trash.
Little did he know, I was risking my life.
I have only practiced eight forms of the Unnamed Sword Technique. The ninth position is waiting to kill me in the fairy world.
