Late at night, Mo Kai passionately recommended a certain “Flower City” hot novel he had just finished savoring to a close friend.

He offered a sharp review: “Overflowing with meat, a dog-blood plot—a must-read for little 0s!”

After hitting send, he tossed his phone aside and drifted blissfully into dreamland.

Unexpectedly, he hadn’t been asleep for long before he was dragged out of bed by a man drenched in hot sweat. Looking at the crew-cut, cold-faced hunk before him—who had bulging muscles, long legs, and was handsome enough to make one’s heart tremble—a dazed Mo Kai reached out and touched him directly.

“Wow, this dream is so… hard.”

Mo Kai transmigrated into the Flower City novel he had sent to his friend.

Looking at the 1970s-style loess-and-thatch cottage, the red banners and large stove, as well as the emaciated little bun at his feet who could barely stand yet was trying his best to pick up a sickle to help him harvest wheat, he was dumbfounded.

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