Shen Tianxiao is the three-hundred-year-old, developmentally frozen “mascot” of a mysterious cultivation sect. A chubby glutton in red, with a Qiankun pouch stuffed full of snacks, he's also a once-in-a-millennium genius who cultivated the bizarre art of “chatterbox beast taming.” He can talk a thousand-year-old tree demon into burning itself up from shame, and tame a talking thousand-year-old ginseng with spicy snack sticks.
He thought his mental comment feed and pampered-all-around personality were just comedic talents, until the Demon Venerable's army descended and fixed its gaze on the broken jade pendant at his waist, demanding in shock and fury, “Why does the aura of ‘That One’ cling to you?!”
The sect leader fell silent. His senior sister wept. His second senior brother, who always stole his snacks, stepped in front of him for the first time, his voice hoarse: “Don't be afraid. This time, I really won't steal yours.”
Shen Tianxiao looked at his loved ones, braced for battle, then at the candied hawthorn skewer in his hand, half-eaten and imbued with magic. For the first time, his comment feed flooded uncontrollably:
[Wait... Did I get the wrong script?]
[Wasn't this supposed to be a cozy, funny story about being everyone's favorite?]
[Does this BOSS who looks like it wants to eat me know me from my past life?]
But as a black tide of destruction swept over them, he rode on his senior brother's shoulders and bit down on the last piece of candied hawthorn. The comments across the screen turned into brilliant golden light
“Everyone, listen up!” He grinned, his little tiger fangs gleaming. “Whatever I was in my past life, in this one...”
“This BOSS's health bar is mine to talk down!”
