My father said that although the iron hand stir-fried chestnuts is fake, it actually requires some skill. I once saw my father's hand, but I don't know if the calluses on it were left behind by my father's attempt to deceive people. Or I really studied and practiced it later. Anyway, there is no such person in the entire sect except him.

Because this is a scam, and new students come every year.

But I feel that I am not as good as this piece of material, so I often give up when the pot really starts to heat up a lot.

In the past few years since I became a senior brother, I have seen an apprentice who has lost his family’s fortune to learn iron sand palm.

I started to practice stir-frying sand for more than ten hours every day, and my palms were deformed.

Afterwards, I felt that I could do it and started to make a fire, so I burned myself and went to the hospital. I was discharged from the hospital for half a year and gave up trying and left the sect to join him.

Everyone envies me for being a few levels higher than everyone at a young age, and I also envy everyone for not having to live in lies every day.

That day, my father called me into the inner room.

"Father, what's wrong?" I said in confusion. I had never seen my father so anxious before.

And what I saw in the inner room was not someone else, but Ge Ping, the number one monk in Shaoling.

I met him because the TV station has almost always praised him for being awesome this year. He has swept the eight major sects and is now Shaoling's signboard.
Chapter completed!