A Nation of Giving: I Donated Grandma’s Ashes Eight Times

Welcome to a living hell where everyone is expected to sacrifice themselves. Here, reporting your parents earns you a certificate of merit, urging your relatives to die gets you an award, and the powerful can get a shot of miracle medicine that would take someone at the bottom ten years of grueling cultivation to match. Fang Zong transmigrated here with no System, no old master to guide him, and only a corpse that could cultivate automatically in his place. Others work themselves to death on the assembly line or die on the front lines for the sake of being called “glorious.” For half a bottle of leftover medicine, he squats outside the principal’s house for three days, waiting to steal the dregs he throws away. Others send their own grandparents to their deaths for the sake of “the greater good.” For a pound of coarse grain, he reports the neighborhood chief for hoarding food and collects double the reward. Others would rather die in the ring than use dirty tricks, afraid of being called a disgrace to the martial arts. He goes straight for the groin, the eyes, and the throat, then steals his opponent’s medicine bottle and shoes after winning. Everyone in the entire fortress hates him to the bone, yet nobody can do a thing about him. Fang Zong dusted off his hands. “Moral blackmail? Sorry, I have no morals!”