Quick Transmigration Cannon Fodder She Chooses Farming - Su_Luxia - Wattpad

Story cover for Quick Transmigration Cannon Fodder She Chooses Farming by Athylegendary

Quick Transmigration Cannon Fodder She Chooses Farming

Reads 671
Votes 30
Parts 20
Time 2h 39m

Reads 671
Votes 30
Parts 20
Time 2h 39m

cannonfooder space

The cannon fodder of fast wear, she chooses to farm

Author: Xi Zhen

Category: Science Fiction Space

531,900 words | Serial

Update: 2022-06-16

[After choosing to farm, I made the cannon fodder female partner Gou a winner in life]

Xu Yin took the life assistance system and entered the world of thousands of novels that she had complained about negatively. The master is the best cannon fodder in the control group, with bad cards in the opening.
Xu·Buddhist farming expert·Yin: ... Go live! It's okay to lie down with salted fish, just don't get involved in the plot!
Persevere and become a winner in life.
Small world 
① Eighty-zero best sister-in-law: stay away from the top, farming and make a fortune; small world 
② be a good female match and choose farming: work hard, farming and strengthen the country; small world 
③ oil bottle for reorganizing the family: goodbye step sister! Back home to farm!
Small World 
④The ex-girlfriend of the world champion~
Small World ⑤The control group of the all-around actress~
...
More small world productions...

Key words of the novel: Cannon Fodder of Quick Traversing She Chooses Farming without Pop-up Windows, Cannon Fodder of Quick Traversing She Chooses Farming

Note: This is google translated from the Chinese language. This is for communication and learning purposes only and not for commercial use.All Rights Reserved

cannonfooder space

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20 parts

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يا شبيهين للثريا في علاك

من وسط غابات الدُجى، في فصل الشتاء، حيث يتعانق الضباب مع أغصانٍ عارية كالأسرار، بدأتُ أنسج الخيال بحكايةٍ لا تتكرّر. لم تكن حكاية تُروى على لسان أحد، بل فيضٌ من الهواجيس، تسكّنت في داخلي زمنًا، حتى لفظها القلم كأنّه ينزف. في كل سطر، كانت الغابة تحكم قبضتها على الذاكرة، تسحبني إلى عمقٍ لا يُشبه إلا الحلم، حين يصبح كابوسًا. إنها حكاية وُلدت بين الغيهب، المنطلق من غابات الدُجى، والنيار المشتعل في أطرافها... بين السواد الذي يبتلع الأصوات، واللهب الذي يلتهم الظلال، بين الشرسة الصامتة، التي تسكن أعماق الأرض، والنار التي لا ترحم، حتى في رقتها. كأنّها صراعٌ أبديّ بين الغموض والنور، لا غالب فيه إلا الحكاية نفسها. ليست هذه الحكاية من زمنٍ معروف، ولا من مكانٍ مألوف. هي نثرُ هواجيس، لا تُروى بل تُنسج، لا تُكتب بل تتسرّب من بين السطور. حكاية تولد في الفراغ، وتعيش في الظل، لا تبحث عن منطق، بل عن شعورٍ يلامس الغياب. في حضرة الغابة، وفي غياب اليقين، تصبح كل فكرة مأوى، وكل رعشة قلم، احتمالًا لحقيقة لم تُكتشف بعد. فليست الحكاية ما نكتبه، بل ما يكتبه بنا، حين نستسلم للتيه الجميل، ونمضي بلا خريطة، سوى خفقة شعور دُجى ♟️