“Meng Po soup, a bowl of soup that goes against yin and yang, builds a foundation to strengthen one’s life soul, cuts off shackles to build a bridge, and leads straight to the end of the fog zone to witness the ultimate.”
An old woman was too old. She had a stooped body and was extremely short, only 1.5 meters tall. She was as thin as firewood, and her skin was dark and dark. Her eyes were sunken, and her face was full of wrinkles. Her lips were blue and purple, and her teeth were almost bare.
She was selling the famous Meng Po soup in the world of the living. It was the best tonic for the body and soul.
There was a bridge over there. It had an arched stone face and was of an extremely ancient style. The bridge was not small in size and could be said to be grand. It was filled with the vicissitudes of life and had experienced the baptism of time.
The bridge was not far from the Heavenly Immortal Waterfall. It was on the surface of the water that converged into a river.
