When Chen Mo was awakened by the aroma of instant noodles, he found *Five Years of Foundation Establishment, Three Years of Simulation* beating him fiercely in the face with its corner. The four characters "Five Years of Simulation" on the cover had transformed into a "five-second countdown," and an electronic voice came from the pages: "Wake up! Your immortal cultivation takeout is about to be overdue!"
His phone showed three in the morning, and the food delivery app displayed a blood-red order: "Yinsha Sect Special Brain Sashimi (Note: Must be delivered alive)." The delivery driver's avatar was a blue-faced, fanged meme, with the location pinned at the back door of the crematorium.
"Mandatory order accepted: Bad reviews will trigger a Demonic Tribulation."
Chen Mo kicked open the shared bicycle lock, and a little paper figure wearing a yellow robe suddenly popped out of the front basket: "Rider has accepted the order. Suggested route: turn left at the Yellow Springs Road, go straight down the Wangchuan River." When the navigation voice reached "Meng Po Soup Gas Station," the bicycle suddenly pedaled out the push-back sensation of an AE86.
The crematorium's on-duty grandpa was browsing an immortal cultivation novel and handed over the food box without raising his head: "Put it in furnace number three, and remember to give a five-star review." The moment the furnace door opened, Chen Mo found himself staring eye-to-eye with the Night Wandering God roasting chicken wings inside.
"Young people these days, delivering takeout while wearing a Celestial Master robe?" The Night Wandering God chewed on a chicken wing bone. "The bald donkey who delivered the wrong order last time made my exorcism spell stamp get pressed with a Meituan seal."
On the return trip, Chen Mo's e-bike handlebars were wrapped in Manjusaka flowers. While waiting at a red light, the window of a Maserati next to him rolled down, and the beauty in the passenger seat fluttered her eyelashes at him: "Mister, can you help me cut prices on Pinduoduo? The nine hundred and ninety-ninth cut gets you a Celestial Realm immortal cave!"
The Xuanming Mirror suddenly vibrated, and the beauty in the mirror revealed her true form—a skeleton spirit wearing lipstick. Chen Mo slammed the accelerator, and a coquettish voice came from the rearview mirror: "You heartless ghost! Not helping me bargain and you even shattered my bones!"
Downstairs at his apartment building, a courier brother was fighting a package with a peachwood sword. "Are you Mr. Chen?" he wiped the sweat from his brow. "Your delivery is too fierce; it almost modified my e-bike into a flying sword."
The talisman waybill on the package read: "Tianji Pavilion Adult Novelty Items (Enchanted)." When opened, it turned out to be a broom that swore at people: "What are you looking at? Never seen a flying broom before? You Muggles are truly uncultivated!"
When the landlord auntie kicked the door open to collect rent, the broom suddenly jumped up and started doing a square dance: "Across the vast and boundless sky, you are my love—" The auntie instantly whipped out her phone to shoot a Douyin video: "Oh my, this robotic vacuum can even sing 'The Most Dazzling Ethnic Style'! That covers three months of rent!"
Late at night, Chen Mo squatted in the toilet to study the system mall. The "Youth-Preservation Pill" cost a fortune comparable to Moutai, and the advertisement for "Sword Flight Crash Course" read: "Teaching is guaranteed, proficiency is not; if you fall to your death, we take no responsibility." The most outrageous was the "Heavenly Dao VIP Membership," whose perks included a "30% discount on the Thunder Tribulation" and "refills of Meng Po Soup."
Suddenly, the toilet flushed with a bloody glow, and his ex-girlfriend's face surfaced on the water: "Darling, my WeChat was banned. Can I borrow your Alipay to send a Merit red envelope?" The moment Chen Mo pressed the flush button, shrill screams echoed back and forth throughout the entire apartment building—every single toilet was spraying Mentos-flavored spiritual energy.
The next day, the neighborhood committee auntie blocked his door: "Little Chen, someone reported you for engaging in illegal religion... Wait, is that mop of yours becoming a spirit?" The flying broom was in the balcony having a magical duel with the washing machine, and the pages of *Three Years of Simulation* were flipping inside the drum: "Fellow Daoist, your socks are due for their Thunder Tribulation!"
The property manager rushed in holding a luopan compass, his name tag reading "Golden Core Stage Property Manager." When he saw the succulents planted with Spirit Stones on the windowsill, he instantly dropped to his knees: "Immortal Master! Can you tutor my daughter in sword flight? She has failed her subject two test five times!"
Chen Mo munched on a jianbing guozi while opening his livestream, aiming the camera at the alchemical furnace fighting for territory with the microwave: "Brothers, today I'll teach you how to refine pills using Wi-Fi signals! Send enough gifts for a Porsche, and I'll have the sword cultivator next door perform 'smashing a Thunder Tribulation on his chest'!"
Suddenly, a torrential rain fell from the sky, and the cultivation version of Didi Chuxing launched a new feature: "Emergency rescue! A Foundation Establishment Stage fellow Daoist is trapped in the morning rush hour, urgently needing a Nascent Soul expert to open a teleportation array!" After accepting the order, Chen Mo discovered the client was his former company's HR manager, who was being chased and hacked across eighteen streets by a vengeful payroll-slip spirit.
When Chen Mo used *Five-Three* to scatter the last payroll-slip spirit, colorful auspicious clouds drifted across the sky. The system popped up a golden window: "Congratulations on achieving the hidden achievement: Savior of the Working Class," rewarding him with a natal Dharma treasure shaped like a labor arbitration document.
As night fell, Chen Mo collapsed in front of a barbecue stall. A drunk at the next table suddenly slammed the table and stood up: "My boss must be a demonic cultivator! Making us work overtime every day to absorb resentment!" Office workers all around pulled out their Dharma treasures: "Screw him! I've got a DingTalk cracking talisman!"
The proprietress passed by carrying grilled chives: "What's the use of cultivating immortality? Can it pay off my Huabei?" Chen Mo looked up at the starry sky, where cultivators were riding hoverboards for sword flight, their delivery boxes bearing the slogan: Celestial Realm Delivery, Mission Guaranteed!