I transmigrated into a courtyard house. While everyone else had to fend for themselves from the start, I, Xing Weidong, kicked down the gate with my ninety-nine younger siblings, all from a family of martyrs!
Bound to the [Emotional Critical Hit System], I can exchange jealousy, envy, and meltdowns from the courtyard's miscreants for unlimited pork, ration coupons, and god-tier skills!
Want to guilt-trip me with morality? Sorry, I play the outlaw, and I specialize in dealing with hypocrites who won't take no for an answer!
In the 1960s, supplies are scarce. Seeing the hundred mouths Xing Weidong has to feed, the courtyard's miscreants expect them to starve to death in the streets so they can seize their property.
Instead, Xing Weidong turns the entire courtyard into an “automated ATM”!
The thieving prodigy Bang Geng comes to steal money? He shuts the door, beats the thief, then calls the police and sends him to juvenile detention, where he gets room and board!
The spirit-summoning old hag Jia Zhangshi throws a tantrum? One smack teaches her how to behave, plus half a month of cleaning public toilets!
The moral paragon Yi Zhonghai wants to hold a courtyard-wide meeting and brainwash everyone? Xing Weidong kicks over the Eight Immortals table and pulls out his martyr-family certificate and the criminal code. “Uncle Yi, that's called extortion by a mob. Ready to face the firing squad? Or should we settle this privately with your coffin money?”
The courtyard's miscreants are tormented until they can barely stand it, contributing emotional points in a frenzy as they teeter on the edge of a meltdown every day.
Meanwhile, Xing Weidong and his ninety-nine future pillars of the nation, each destined for a different field, set up a huge iron pot right in the middle of the courtyard every day. Braised pork and fluffy white buns make everyone else drool and roll around on the ground!
The courtyard's troublemakers weep and wail: “You’re a living ancestor! Please move away! You’ve squeezed every last drop of oil out of us!”
Xing Weidong calmly takes out his little notebook. “Want me to leave? Fine. First, pay the emotional distress damages for frightening my sister with all that shouting today.”
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