The day Lin Mo was laid off, five years of his youth were worth two supermarket gift cards.
He couldn't even be bothered to write a will. He went straight to Zhongnan Mountain, where he'd heard the spiritual qi was plentiful and dying wouldn't hurt.
Instead, he missed a step and fell into an ancient immortal estate deep in the mountain, where he hatched a black bird that called itself "This Seat" and immediately demanded repayment for three hundred skewers of candied hawthorn.
From then on, the cultivation world had two oddballs: one cultivated by keeping accounts and collected commissions for killing demons; the other conned people by instinct and searched assassins' storage bags cleaner than their own faces.
"Mortal, remember this: This Seat never cheats good people. As for bad people... I'll even dig the spirit stones out of their ancestral graves to trade for candied hawthorn."
Better to owe the King of Hell than take a job from Coalball.
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