Grass.
Too little!
Inside the tent, Zhang Fusheng opened his eyes, his teeth aching and his heart slightly startled.
"Old Du actually lived to be one thousand seven hundred years old..."
He murmured lowly, recalling the first gathering of the High Heaven, when there were only four members,
During the members' transactions, Old Du casually offered a hundred years of life.
At that time, it didn't register, but thinking back carefully now, it seems peculiar.
"One thousand seven hundred years old... even that dying Old Celestial Being from the High-class Cui Family may not have lived that long!"
Zhang Fusheng's thoughts were swirling; there was something secretive about Du Mingsheng.
But what exactly?
He did not care, nor was he interested.
No matter if he was a long-living immortal or had consumed large amounts of lifespan-extending Celestial Medicines—so what?
It didn't matter.
Longevity was the least valuable thing to Zhang Fusheng.
"That's good."
