Just as I expected, I transmigrated into a cultivation world and was taken back to a sect as the disciple of a handsome man with the bearing of an immortal. I was his only disciple.
I was excited that I could actually cultivate, but then I discovered, to my dismay, that I was a disciple of an obscure branch in a lesser-known sect. [Hits the floor.]
The good news: My master is the sect's founding patriarch.
The bad news: I may have an impressive seniority, but my master loves staying home.
The two of us spent our days cultivating, eating, and sleeping on our own mountain in the sect's domain,
when suddenly a major war broke out elsewhere. As a powerful cultivator, my master had to head to the front lines.
Then he died.
?
The war injured many elders, who all went into seclusion afterward.
From then on, I had to shoulder the sect's responsibilities and became its leader. I'm exhausted.
This is the story of an incredibly powerful but lazy heroine who just wants to slack off, only to keep getting interrupted.
Theme: Wherever you are, keep your heart steadfast and never give in to despair
