Sun Xin opened his eyes and found he had transmigrated to the 1960s, with a six-year-old orphan of a fallen hero in his arms.
Luckily, his golden finger had arrived: the Five Ghosts’ Transporting Art, which could take a man’s head from a thousand miles away... No, take grain and meat.
He had barely arrived at No. 95 Nanluoguxiang when he discovered the Jia family had occupied his house. Then Yi Zhonghai, the neighborhood’s senior resident, tried to guilt-trip him into being “generous”!
Sun Xin laughed.
A widow cries and begs? No lending.
Silly Zhu kicks down his door? He gets kicked flying.
The senior resident throws his weight around? A slap in the face will do.
Whether you’re a level-eight fitter or a neighborhood bigwig, if you dare meddle, I’ll make sure you understand: it’s time someone else took charge of this courtyard.
He’ll give his daughter a good life and teach this bunch what the rules are.
The traveling frog in the deck may have been written by a child. I don't know who the king is.
The most awesome guy