The Eighteen-Year-Old Grand Ancestor Is Still Cleaning House Today

He takes his eight-year-old son out, only to be hit by a car and killed. When he opens his eyes, he's transmigrated seventy years into the future. His adorable eight-year-old self has become a frail old man. The mountain wind howls, and dark clouds gather overhead.

Eight-year-old Lin Xiaoman crouches in a corner of the ancestral hall, cold sweat soaking through his rough cotton shirt. Outside, a jumble of footsteps approaches, while torchlight flickers against the lattice windows. He bites his lower lip and stares at his trembling fingertips, still smudged with incense ash from sneaking a taste of the offering fruit that morning.

“Find that brat! The clan chief says we need him alive or dead!” And as if that weren't enough, he has a bunch of troublesome great-grandchildren. The eldest is a clueless CEO whose bad decisions have brought the company to the brink of bankruptcy. The second is entangled with a married woman and has been disgraced. The third has been drained like a blood bag and is in critical condition. The fourth is arrogant and wastes the family fortune. The fifth is a failing student and school bully, arrogant and overbearing, who even dares to flirt with his “great-grandma”?! Rong Yu leans on his cane and sneers. “You little wretch! Get on your knees!” The fifth stares at him, baffled. “Great-grandpa? Who are you?” “I'm your great-grandpa!” Rong Yu slaps him flying. “You've got everything backward! Prepare to die!” An eighteen-year-old soul in an eighty-year-old body, he's still putting his family in its place today!