When Jiang Zhe woke up, he wasn't sitting on a soft Simmons mattress, but on some rough straw. "Damn it." He spat out a piece of straw, tried to sprawl out... But failed. His body felt limp, like a six-year-old kid. Oh, he really was a six-year-old kid. Holy Soul Village, a place whose name sounded fantastical, but was actually dirt poor. Next door was the future overpowered king, Tang San. As a glorious transmigrator, Jiang Zhe felt no excitement whatsoever. In his previous life, he died working 996 hours a day; in this life, his only dream was to lie down and relax.
