The small underground black market auction of the Golden Bamboo Mountain was soon coming to an end. After auctioning off the last few hidden medicinal pills, the auction was about to end.
"This auction is more or less boring. I came all the way here because I thought there would be some new treasures."
A sloppy old man scratched his exposed stomach in boredom. The old man's long hair was covered in weeds and hung casually on his body. His face was even more dejected, as if he had just crawled out of a mud pit. He was also holding a big oily gourd in his hand. Every time he tilted the gourd to his mouth, a large amount of wine would surge out.
His gourd seemed to be filled to the brim. No matter how much he drank, it was always full.
He occupied several seats alone, but no one dared to come over and bother him. Seeing that there was only one item left in the auction and that it was about to be sold, some people beside him had already quietly left.