The World Thinks I'm Dead, So I Started Farming!

For countless eras, Feng Liang answered every prayer. As a god, he believed it was his duty to listen to every plea, to respond to every cry for help. He never refused anyone. But somewhere along the way, he realized he had forgotten his own dream — to live for himself. In solving the world’s problems, he had neglected his own wishes. “Do I not deserve a life of my own?” With that single question, he staged his death. While the heavens mourned and mortals wept at his funeral, the god they worshipped silently sealed his cultivation and vanished into a remote mountain village. Now, he farms for himself. He cooks for himself. He builds for himself. For the first time in eternity, he lives for himself. But even suppressed, his presence reshapes reality.  Spirit herbs bloom where he walks. Mortal tools awaken into artifacts. And without their silent pillar, the balance of the heavens begins to fracture. The world thinks he’s dead. And, he intends to keep it that way.