In the room.
Jiang Ding, cradling a boulder several meters tall and wide, appeared. The moment it truly touched the floor, a continuous flow of inner energy surged from beneath his feet, forming a plane to evenly distribute the massive weight across the room's floor.
"I am in great danger now!"
Jiang Ding glanced left and right; the bustling streets and the busy traffic that usually comforted him did not have that effect this time.
Taiqing Spirit Iron!
This was something that could drive high-level cultivators mad. If any Golden Pill monk passed by and discovered it with a scan of their Divine Sense, they would snatch it without hesitation, no matter the law.
This material could forge the foundation of the great Dao, potentially breaking through realms and extending one's life by hundreds, even thousands, of years.
It's not that Xianmen cultivators were morally corrupt; it's just that only a saint of moral integrity could resist such a tremendous temptation!
Whoosh!
