Mo Zonggou Has Been Here for Three Hundred Years, and the Saints and Fairies Are Chasing Me.

A menial servant of the Demon Sect, keeping his head down for three hundred years. In everyone's eyes, Lu Chen is a good-for-nothing at the third level of Qi Refining: chopping wood, carrying water, cleaning the latrines, a pushover anyone passing by can kick. No one knows that inside his frail body lies a Nascent Soul that has kept a low profile for three hundred years. On the day he formed his Nascent Soul, six bolts of heavenly lightning struck the sky above Mucheng. He raised a hand and caught them, keeping anyone from seeing. No one knows that the dusty, old wooden token he bent down to pick up three hundred years ago is the very command token the Mu family has awaited for three thousand years. The ancestral formation recognizes its master, the Heavenly Gate Token appears, and the heart of the formation that will return all living things to the void has taken root in his dantian. And no one knows he can see when other people will die: Liu San, three days left to live, killed in an internal bloodshed at the Blood Fiend Sect. So he keeps working as a menial servant. He takes the beatings, swallows his anger, and plays the coward, while quietly steering those destined to die away from their doom and pocketing one windfall after another. Until Lin Qingyao, the Heavenly Sword Sect's senior sister, asks him in front of everyone: “What is your cultivation level, really?” He says, “Third level of Qi Refining.” Su Meier scoffs. “Then will you teach me soul refining?” He thinks it over. “Sure. I'll teach you tonight.” The three-hundred-year-old game is finally coming to an end.