Crossover Transmigration: Every Day I Want to Die a Little

Since transmigrating, I've run into one miserable ordeal after another, like making the pilgrimage to the West: eighty-one trials and tribulations. My blood-and-tears story could be adapted into an epic tale of struggle, moving enough to rank among China's Top Ten Inspirational Figures. I charge through thorns and brambles with great gusto, but unfortunately, I'm either watching idiots act like idiots or being an idiot myself. o(╯□╰)o I'm either watching a rebellion or on my way to start one. "Whoever dares make my ancestors die without descendants will find out what it means to cut the weeds and dig up the roots! That's right!" "There are so many smart people in the world. Why can't you be one of them?" "Well, by the time I realized I was an idiot, the world's supply of miracle cures for idiocy had already sold out!" "Why do other people smile with breathtaking elegance, while your smile brings down thunder and lightning?" "They laugh at me for being mad, and I laugh at them for not seeing through things. Poor me, my heart is as fine as silk, but no one recognizes my refinement! No one!" I'm leaving this post here for posterity. Let my descendants take heed: if one day you lose something and an old man with a white beard asks, "Young one, did you lose this golden ancestor, this silver ancestor, or this ordinary ancestor?" don't hesitate. Smack that old swindler in the face with some spicy crayfish!