When the electric wheels crush space and time on a rainy night, the takeaway box contains more than just Malatang.
Lin Xiaofan, a rider who traveled through time due to bad reviews, was forced to become the most "serious" young master of the Xuantian Sect.
With his left hand holding the Serious Human System that could be exchanged for elixirs, and his right hand holding the "Cosmic Hungry Hungry Order" with a strange smell, he had to jump repeatedly between the world of cultivation and the interstellar world——
Today he delivers iced coke to the ancestor of the Tribulation Tribulation, and tomorrow he saves the mechanical Buddha for the silicon-based civilization. Occasionally, he has to guard against clones snatching away his takeout box.
There are no cool writing routines from Long Aotian here, only the absurd daily routine of cross-dimensional delivery:
Meituan's score sheet was displayed at the judges' table of the sect competition, the Zhuxian Sword Formation was cracked by drifting on an electric car, and Meng Po Soup became the secret recipe for eliminating bad reviews from Star Wars.
When the elder's Nascent Soul danced in the starship master's mind, and when the proprietress of Wangyou Tea House turned out to be his ex-girlfriend in the quantum state, Lin Xiaofan finally discovered——
What I deliver is never takeout, but the spark of civilization that is urged to update by five billion universes in turn.
The decent system continues to issue suicide warnings:
"Host, please stay dignified and don't bomb the black hole with Buddha jumping over the wall!"
"It is forbidden to recommend incense takeout packages to the mechanical Buddha!"
"I emphasize again! The use of Meituan red envelopes is prohibited in the world of cultivation!"
In this war of tongues across dimensions, every order is a code that rewrites destiny, and every delivery is a rebellion against the mastermind's rules.
When Lin Xiaofan opened the incubator, what he took out might be a marrow-cleansing pill or a two-way foil napkin——
But the only thing that is certain is that the universe will eventually remember:
There was a rider who boiled five billion doomsdays into a steaming pot of human fireworks.
