This Is a Resort, Not a Sacred Cultivation Ground

After graduating from college, Lin Fusheng returned to his hometown and inherited a desolate, run-down mountain. He had planned to open a farmstay and earn enough to get by.

But as soon as it opened, a few rather peculiar guests showed up.

A one-armed uncle chopped wood in the backyard, crying as he said he had attained the Way of the Sword.

Aunties doing square dancing used their speakers to battle with magic, and somehow drove back their inner demons.

Even a cup of plain boiled water he casually poured was hailed by the ancient-costume cosplayers as dew from the Nine Heavens.

Looking at the pile of “glass marbles” and “scrap metal” in his hands (top-grade spirit stones and magical treasures), Lin Fusheng fell into deep thought.

“Everyone, this is a proper holiday resort. Flying on swords is prohibited, as is keeping spirit beasts in the pool. Violators will be fined five hundred!”

The mighty cultivators trembled with fear. “Senior Lin, please calm down! We’ll pay the fine right away. We only ask to stay one more night!”