One punch is all it takes to shatter the world of cultivation.
My name is Zhao Lintian, an utterly ordinary delivery driver. One second, I was sparring with customers over late deliveries and bad reviews. The next, a dump truck sent me transmigrating.
No System, no golden finger. From the start, all I had was a lightless, haunted place, a bronze coffin, and a bowl of snail rice noodles that had long since gone cold.
I thought I'd gotten the worst start imaginable, until ten years later, when a group of sobbing cultivators opened the forbidden land's gates. They knelt before me and called me “Patriarch.”
I'm not! I'm just a little nobody at the Qi Refining stage!
But when a big shot who looked incredibly powerful and called himself a “Soul Formation cultivator” came along, I punched him into a cloud of blood.
The entire cultivation world was stunned.
They said I had returned to simplicity, embodied the Great Dao's simplicity, and was an unparalleled master who could break ten thousand techniques with a single punch.
The Qingxuan Sword Sect revered me as a god. The demonic overlords trembled at the mention of my name, and the righteous sect's fair maidens sent me coy glances.
But only I knew the truth… I was really just a tiny bit stronger than average.
“Fellow Daoist, believe me, I'm no Patriarch. I'm just a delivery driver!”
“Patriarch is too modest! That punch of yours must contain the supreme Great Dao!”
Fine, I'll come clean.
If one punch doesn't solve the problem, then I'll throw another.
After all, in this crazy cultivation world, if you can settle it with your fists, don't waste time arguing.
Fellow Daoist, want to hit the road together? Don't forget to leave a five-star review.
