After Sleeping for a Hundred Thousand Years, I Emerge as an Immortal in the Mortal World

When he woke up, Jiang Xiaojiang had transmigrated into an insignificant farmer on a cultivation continent.

He vaguely remembered wiping sweat three times and resting twice beneath an old elm tree, yet somehow a hundred thousand years had passed in the blink of an eye. Yin and yang had turned, dynasties had risen and fallen, and mountains and seas had changed shape.

Returning to the mortal world, he found his old acquaintances were like shadows from the past.

The child who had once stood beneath the tree had become a great immortal cultivator.

The tea shop attendant had been passed down through a hundred generations.

Even the millet he had casually scattered back then had become a peerless immortal medicine.

Jiang Xiaojiang suddenly felt that this mortal world was worth walking through.