Yang Ling swept through the area with all his might, picking rare flowers and herbs over two or three hundred years old as he saw fit.
He took those that granted better attributes, such as experience for mental cultivation methods.
As for rare flowers and herbs less than two or three hundred years old, he left them alone.
Occasionally, he mixed in some older rare flowers and herbs.
This was no simple task. He had to make judgments and choices in an extremely short time.
Sometimes, a single glance told him which were his and which were not.
Without four hundred points of mental power, which put his perception and reaction speed far beyond those of ordinary upper-fifth-rank martial artists, he might have given something away.
You have to give something up to gain something. Though I prefer gaining without giving anything up, today's situation calls for the first approach.
He knew very well that fooling this group of third-rank grandmasters would not be easy.
So he tried to take only what was most useful to him, keeping the discrepancy in quantity from becoming too large.
But the radiation power here really is rather formidable.
Yang Ling lowered his head and glanced at his arms. The flesh, sinews, and bones of his forearms were already exposed. Without Flesh Regeneration Power sustaining them, they probably would have melted away long ago.
In the distance, everyone kept watching Yang Ling's every move.
They were not worried about Yang Ling lining his own pockets. After all, he had nowhere else on his body to hide rare flowers and herbs.
They cared more about the extent to which that mysterious power was eroding Yang Ling, allowing them to make corresponding judgments from what happened to his body.
"Qi Chunqiu, how long do you think