I am a thousand-year-old wintersweet tree that is about to take shape through cultivation. As long as I bloom for the last time in the last cold winter, I can break away from my original body, transform into a human form, and wander around the world. Unexpectedly, a stinky fart knocks me back to my original shape. The reason is that I cannot release the fragrance during the last cultivation, and I have no merit. I am wailing, crying bitterly, and cursing: Who on earth farted?
