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At this moment, inside the apothecary, the ancestor of the Wind Guard in the gold robe, hands behind his back, looked around with a faint indifference as the door behind him closed.

This apothecary wasn't big and looked ordinary. There was an iron kettle boiling water on the stove at the side, emitting some vapor.

The first person he saw was a youth in a rough hemp robe who was sprawled out at the side.

This youth's expressions were ever-changing. Sometimes, he would frown, sometimes he would fall into deep thought, and sometimes he had a smug expression. He also muttered some random poems that didn't make sense.

The other party actually didn't even glance at his arrival.

The ancestor swept his gaze over and could tell that it was just a small Golden Core cultivator. Hence, he directly ignored him and looked at the second person standing at the side with a longsword in his arms.

This person was also a youth and was currently smiling at him.