Mo Yan was just reading a novel when a young couple knocked him off a bridge. When he woke up, he had transmigrated straight into the novel.
Fine, he had transmigrated. But everyone else got doted on by all around them and had a golden finger. Why had he brought nothing with him, and been given a body ravaged by fire poison and driven into a cultivation deviation? And why did he have to let the general, who was supposed to be a disposable character, bite him now and then to draw out the poison!?
Mo Yan: “Fine, you bite me, I’ll bite you back. It’s just detoxing, no big deal.”
Xi Yuecheng wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and gave him a dark look. “Just biting isn’t very interesting.”
