Cultivation towards immortality, starting from being a fisherman - Chapter 62 - I’m Not a Bad Person!

What would you do if you found yourself trapped in a world of a game?Would you panic?Rejoice?Just give up?This is a conundrum I found myself in after waking up in an unfamiliar bed, in an unfamiliar room, with no clue of how I got there.Magic powers?I had none of those…A cheat-like system?Nowhere to be found.All I possessed was a single skill that seemed meager at best…[ Shadow Manipulation ]

Shi Jin was a desperate woman and just a pretty face in her past life. She was swapped at birth and brought up in a rich family, only to eventually die a horrible death.

Yuan Xi had a dream about a sexual encounter, only to discover after a night of pleasure that it had all been real. After being shocked silly for a long time, he ran away.

Who would have thought that a big grown man like him would become pregnant and have a son?

The question was, who is the child’s father? It had been too dark for Lao Tzu to see clearly!

Also, what was this daily life system that has been attached to him?

Farming Skill
Ranching Skill
Harvesting Skill
Cooking Skill
Building Skill
Skinning Skill
Sewing Skill
Smithing Skill

… There was a never-ending row of categories.

老子 Lao Tzu: A way of referring to oneself, usually in angry or joking situations.

- Description from Novelupdates

Karl awoke to find himself shockingly reduced to a crippled Evil God confined within a bottle.The Fischer family had inadvertently become his favored members, sharing a fate connected by blood throughout the generations.They established a secret clan, infiltrated the state, manipulated wars, ascended the God Pantheon stairway, and fought for the honor and future of the family.They were assassins lurking in the shadows, beloved scholars, esteemed priests, powerful dukes, and legends in heroic epics.From budding to robust growth, steampunk evolved; the Spirit Realm descended through dreams; witches and ancient gods stepped forth, and people listened to the lost whispers at their ears.They were both the creators and the enders of stories.Generation after generation, in a continuous succession, they marched forward.“Step over my corpse and go on,” he said.