Lu Chen is dead.
At the last second when he was hit by a truck, what he was thinking about was not his parents or his dreams, but:
"This order is overdue, and the fine is twenty."
He woke up.
The ceiling of the rental house, the phone with a broken screen, a bunch of overtime deduction notices, and eight thousand years of extra memories in my mind.
His name is Lu Xuanji, a genius of casual cultivation who is rarely seen in the world of cultivation for thousands of years.
On the night when I transcended the tribulation and ascended to heaven, my soul was stabbed from behind by the person I trusted the most.
The remnant soul traveled through the cracks in the void and attached itself to the delivery boy who was killed.
With no spiritual power, no cultivation, and a big hole in the back of his head, this body is going to die.
At this time, the phone rang: [You have a new takeout order, please process it in time]
Lu Chen put on his takeout clothes and pushed his electric car out the door...
