Taoist Arts? I'm Just Properly Cultivating Immortality

[I Transmigrated to 1993 and Used Cultivation to Fool the Entire Capital]

While others transmigrated as powerful bigwigs, Lin Mo ended up as an idiot in the 1990s and nearly had his body taken over by a pre-Qin-era Qi cultivator.

Luckily, he turned the tables and inherited the other man's three hundred years of memories. From then on, vengeful ghosts offered him cigarettes, and Daoist Venerables called him their senior.

These days, Daoists have to fast before drawing talismans, while mediums who invite immortals sacrifice years of their lives. And me?

I cultivate immortality.

By day, I'm the top student at school, casually rubbing together a “Mind-Clearing Mantra” to help the whole class get first place on their exams.

At midnight, I hunt for treasures at the ghost market, turning a five-yuan piece of lightning-struck wood into my life-bound flying sword.

The qipao-clad upperclassman's Yin Eyes, the tough policewoman's 749 Bureau, the fox-demon bloodline of the spirit-medium clan...

They all say I'm promoting feudal superstition, until I pull out a spirit-powered big brother phone and call a thousand-year-old white snake to be my bodyguard.

“Didn't they say no one was allowed to become a demon after the founding of the country?”

“Then I'll cultivate immortality. That should be fine, right?”

This is a lighthearted cultivation journey about wielding a flying sword in the pager era, explaining the supernatural with science, and getting “ganked” by charming confidantes along the way.