Under the warm sun, Ye Sheng was lying on a rocking chair, squinting his eyes. From time to time, he would throw some bean-like pills into his mouth.
This was a great healing medicine. It could recover zhenqi and nourish the soul. On the market, one pill would cost at least a few hundred gold coins, but in Ye Sheng's place, it was eaten as candy.
With a few crunching crunches, a pill entered his stomach and turned into energy, which was absorbed by his meridians and Dantian.
In the next second, another pill entered his stomach.
Ye Sheng didn't feel any heartache at all. Now that he had casually refined these pills, even if he didn't use the Pantheon cauldron, he could still refine them into top-grade pills.
This was the happiness of an alchemist.
Outsiders worked hard to earn money for a single pill, but in Ye Sheng's place, this was the most worthless thing.