PREVIEW

... tures. The campfire continued burning, illuminating the heated battle between the hero and the abnormalities.

After observing the hero's strength, the corrupted creatures let go of the other crew members and focused all their attention on him.

However, despite their massive numbers, the hero still remained on top.

His movements were graceful and lethal, a single sword strike could render a corrupted creature powerless or send it back to the hell from which it originated. ...

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One-sentence introduction: After traveling back from the cultivation world, I went back to my hometown to farm and start a live broadcast to sell vegetables!

——

Song Tan, who failed to cultivate the golden elixir to cross the tribulation, returned to modern times and found himself at the scene of a series of car accidents. He only escaped death with the help of his benefactor.

After waking up, the fairy Song Tan played with her mobile phone: I like this world!

Facing the computer with dull eyes and engaging in PPT, Song Tan: Destroy this world!

It is impossible to do PPT, so I can only go back to my hometown to farm.

Relying on his own experience in cultivating immortals, Song Tan built landscape gardens, harvested wild vegetables, farm meals, picked cucumbers, broadcasted live broadcasts, and sold mountain delicacies…

Until one day, she saw her savior—the man whose face was blown off halfway while saving her.

Song Tan looked at the other party’s wide shoulders, narrow waist and long legs, and then at the other half of his handsome face. Thinking of his two lifetimes as a single dog, he thought:

I heard that the double-cultivation secret method of the Hehuan Sect can nourish the appearance, but I don’t know…

[Pure farming, the kind of real farming]

[There is a male protagonist, but there are not many scenes]

- Description from novelbuddy

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My name is Yan, and since I was a child, I’ve been able to see some strange things.For example—In elementary school, our new neighbor Aunt Tan had a pair of all-around genius twins, who were like the “precious little geniuses” with halos above their heads. They could recite the English-Chinese dictionary backwards at three, master both Chinese and Western musical instruments by five, and hack into a country’s database by seven…Growing up next to such prodigies, my life was inhumane, tragic, and constantly subjected to comparisons.To escape the comparisons with these “other people’s children,” I specifically applied to a private boarding school for middle school.On my first day, my deskmate was a small, thin girl with bangs, wearing an old uniform, and her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s.Three months later, she woke up from a nap with a “rebirth” halo above her head.She moved effortlessly among the cold academic genius, the wolf-like school bully, the fierce boss, and the gentle childhood friend, leaving me, a lonely onlooker, utterly amazed.By university, I thought I had finally escaped this abnormal world.But as soon as I stepped into my dorm room, my footsteps froze.My roommates each had halos like “ancient times to modern,” “post-apocalyptic superhuman,” “will die if not spending money,” and “ghost king revival.”I clutched my little blanket and applied to the counselor for a room change, but to no avail.Over time, I gradually got used to it. “Handover systems,” “management systems,” “book transmigration,” “infinite worlds,” “three-and-a-half-year-olds,” “interstellar live streams,” “red envelope groups”…The types of halos kept increasing, and I was able to calmly ignore all of it, focusing on my own life.Every morning, I skillfully helped my “ancient to modern” roommate, who was being blacklisted online, dodge campus paparazzi and secure seats for class.At noon, I assisted my tycoon roommate in distributing today’s haul of luxury skincare and designer bags, tasting the city’s top private chef’s custom lunchbox, and exclaiming with emotion, “Darling, can I really accept these?”In the evening, I enjoyed the flowers and plants cultivated by my superhuman roommate on the balcony, tasting a mutated cherry tomato and commenting, “I feel refreshed and purified.”Late at night, when my ghost king roommate quietly climbed back through the window, I peeked out to ask, “You’re back a bit late today, didn’t bring anything back, did you?”My name is Yan, and I am not the protagonist of this world.