Three Hundred Years Old and Still Collecting a Pension? The Media Exposed Me

"You've lived for three hundred years, yet the whole internet calls you a parasite on the nation?"

Retired senior official Su Yunyi scrolled through the trending topics with a wry smile. Back when he guarded the Ming Empire's borders and helped our righteous army cross the river, he never imagined that one day he'd make the headlines because of an irregularity in his pension account.

The demon-subduing talisman hidden inside a Ming blue-and-white vase during its restoration at the Forbidden City, the secret ledger at a breakfast stall where customers paid with Hongwu-era coins, and that video of him catching an RPG with his bare hands, captured on a livestream by an online influencer. When his identity as a cultivator went viral on Douyin, he realized that the secret he'd guarded for three centuries had long since been forged into a shocking deception.

What the media didn't know was this:

In a Social Security Bureau file, a yellowed 1963 "Cultivator Retirement Agreement" bore the bright red seal of the nation;

At an underground auction in New York, an alchemical furnace he'd used three hundred years ago was being bid on by alchemical werewolves;

And inside the nuclear fusion device at the Jiuquan Satellite Launch Center lay his life-bound flying sword, which he'd forged from a Dongfeng missile.

When an ancient star map appeared on the Forbidden City's paving stones, and a distress signal from Apollo astronauts came through the bronze gate that had split open on Mount Kunlun, Su Yunyi finally understood: this pension scandal was nothing more than the spark that would reignite the Investiture of the Gods List.