MTL - Urban Cultivation Medical Saint - v3 Chapter 4728 Dead water! Chen Fei appeared!

This is the story of a graduate student majoring in ancient Chinese who was repeatedly ravaged on the way to employment. He returned to the middle of the Ming Dynasty and entered the body of a young child in a mountain village.

The dull father and the pungent mother, Yishui’s best relatives, have a lot of troubles in the small farmyard. Fortunately, we have thousands of years of historical accumulation, four books, five classics, stereotyped essays, and professional counterparts.

The national power rises vertically and governs;

  Legal discipline is loose, official discipline is lax;

There are a few treacherous ministers, and some Japanese pirates;

But generally speaking, it can be said that this is a fertile ground for the free breeding of scholar-bureaucrats.

A legend of the rise of a poor family grew from here.

I would like to pay tribute to all time-traveling classics with this article.

PS: Rise of the poor family book friend group: 219,803,021; Rise of the poor family full subscription group: 254,292,459 Welcome everyone to join the group and communicate with each other, and welcome everyone to communicate with me.

- Description from novelbuddy

Have you ever wondered what a character in a novel or in a game should be?

Do they eat? Sleep? Do they have their own life when you are not reading or playing?

They do not.

When you are not doing anything, we stay still.

To be fair, think about your own life. Is it different from a game without a system? You can not see behind your back, similar to how a character has to render it in a game.

But at least, you have your own life.

While I have to watch the protagonist of the novel find his way into the pants of the female leads.

This is my destiny.

I'm not jealous. Not at all.

How long I’d been here, I couldn’t quite recall. From this sorry situation, I as always raised my eyes to the sky; a sky in which the great, massive sun was clad in levity. Sunlight poured gently upon all. What a blessing it would have been for the world if only the skies could remain clear. For tomorrow too, and for all days to come, I was to continue to pray for calm. To endure for those who cried, with desperation I remained in prayer.

And then, one freezing, forlorn, soulless, stagnant, drizzly day we died. Or so I thought…