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After a tiring day, the little Taoist priest Han Yan returned to his hut, lying on the bed, staring at the roof. Except for a light green jade belt buckle that he brought hundreds of years ago, he didn't bring anything to his hut. He didn't bring his mobile phone, he didn't bring his books, he didn't even bring a pair of decent clothes. What kind of life is this? Others are cheating on time travel, so it's better to time travel by yourself. It's been 300 years, and you're still a little Taoist priest. What kind of world is this? Tai Chi, Tai Chi Sword, breathing, breathing, etc., I have practiced all the skills I can think of in the world before crossing over, but Mao has no use for it. Apart from continuing to survive day by day, I have no other skills. Thinking back to himself 300 years ago, Han Yan couldn't help but recall. Ah, 300 years have passed in the blink of an eye.