I am a thousand-year-old wintersweet tree, on the verge of cultivating a human form. I only need to bloom one last time in the final winter season, and then I can leave my original body, take human form, and wander through the mortal world. But then a fart knocked me right back to my original form. It was because I couldn't release my fragrance during my final cultivation, and so I earned no merit at all. I wailed in despair, wept bitterly, and cursed: Who on earth farted?
