Don't Mess with that Turtle - Chapter 1583 - 105: Ugly

Lin Ling, who had wood-type abilities, died in the first year of the end of the world, and it has been ten years since he opened his eyes again. After ten years of turmoil, zombie siege, and natural/natural/disaster/disasters, the city has all become In the ruins, very few people survived.

At this time, in order to rebuild their homes, to resettle the surviving people, and to encourage planting, the country allocated land according to the head, and each person allocated a large piece of land.

Holding the land use right certificate, Lin Ling rushed to the land allocated to her by the state. Along the way, she was planning to plant rice first, then raise chickens, and raise two big fat pigs.

When she was full of fantasies about the abundance of grains and flocks of chickens and ducks, she rushed to her new home and looked at the scorched black hills with no grass growing, um… she should start by planting trees.

Year after year, as far as Lin Ling could see, there were green hills and green waters, gurgling water, flocks of chickens and ducks…a piece of scorched and desolate land became full of vitality.
**
Looking at the vibrant village, the only downside is that Lin Ling is alone for ten miles around, so lonely!
She looked at the golden wheat field, spent ten catties of wheat generously, and bought a companion, who was su and handsome, but a little clingy, and always wanted to meet her.
Lin Ling looked at the wheat field, um… She has reason to suspect that the chatter is coveting the wheat in her field!

PS:
1. Daily farming + infrastructure.
2. Daily update, update at nine o’clock in the morning.
3. The author’s writing style is average, there are bugs, super overhead, everything is for the plot, enjoy reading the text and pictures, please don’t delve into it.

Content tags: farming culture infrastructure
Search keywords: Protagonist: Lin Ling ┃ Supporting role: Please bookmark! ┃ Others: Farming Literature, End Times,
One-sentence introduction: I am engaged in infrastructure construction in the last days
Conception: Work hard to live a happy life Daily farming + infrastructure.

- Description from novelbuddy

We were a peaceful people living in harmony with nature in the vast lands of Lyréanor, but this peace was short-lived when our people were defeated by the dark elves, an ancient people even older than this world. It is said that they arrived in Lyréanor by boat and since their arrival, chaos has been unleashed. Proud of their obscure power, derived from dark rituals, they have raised gigantic armies of monsters whose name is synonymous with terror: ‘Obscurus’.They went on the rampage, and everywhere they went the grass didn't grow back, life died and disintegrated. Seven, there were seven. The seven dark elves known as the Lords of the Apocalypse. A single gesture from them was enough to strike us all down, a single gesture from one of them was enough to decimate us in blood and terror.And as I, Foster, contemplate the macabre scene before me, the bloodied and deformed bodies of my fellow elfes beings, and as death grips my soul, a strange sign appeared before me.[Ding... Activation of the world tree system]

Getting transmigrated inside a novel is not really a bad thing—you know the story, you have the power of the future in your hand, you know all the hidden keys. You might as well end up as the most powerful and omniscient being in that world.That is, if you don’t wake up during the epilogue.And yet I find myself in the body of a fallen priest at the end of the novel, a tragic hero who had his mana circuit broken in the last war, being shunned, drown in debt, and destined to die not long after.Fortunately, I know just the cure.Unfortunately, the cure was in the hand of one of the Demon Lords—you know, the race that my kingdom just wage war with.Would he give me the cure if I asked him politely? There’s no harm in trying, right? I’d die if I didn’t get the cure, anyway.“Sure, but you have to be my bride as the price,” the Demon Lord said....huh? Sir, you know I’m (technically) a priest, right?

Weary reader, it is an honor that you have chosen this book amidst the heavy, dim library.Regrettably, this book is unwell.Your fingers should be able to feel the raised growths on the surface of its cover,Words written in bygone days are like parasites rooted in the pages, hoping for someone to observe their wriggling,To feel, to decipher, to touch the essence of this ailing story.If you insist on borrowing this book, please make sure to regularly check your own physical condition.