Dying and reincarnating into a cultivation world sounded like the start of a legendary story, and Lin Mo Chen believed it too… at least for the first day.
Back then, he thought he'd cultivate against the heavens, gather a beautiful harem, and look down on the world; an idea reality would shatter pretty quickly.
There was nothing extraordinary about him: he wasn't the son of a patriarch or the last survivor of a destroyed clan; he even tried shouting "System!" at the top of his lungs.
All he got was three clan kids yelling "lunatic" back at him.
That was when he understood something very simple.
He was just Lin Mo Chen, an ordinary member of a side branch, with living parents and an uneventful life.
In other words… a plain side character.
"Haaah…"
Not bothering to hide a yawn, he leaned back lightly against a red pillar as he watched the tedious ceremony unfold in front of him.
A few nearby disciples were looking at him like he was a freak. Lin Mo Chen smiled faintly and ignored them. What would you know? You're just filler.
If you knew what was coming, you wouldn't be so proud. His lips twisted slightly. He'd barely been in this world a month… and he was still sure he knew more than anyone.
He'd investigated everything he could: the world was a wild jungle where small families like this one disappeared every day, the strong made the rules and the weak were food, where if you didn't have talent you were less than trash.
As an avid reader, the first thing Lin Mo Chen wanted was to run off to some remote village and live in peace. Living in this world would have been exciting… if not for one small but massive problem.
His talent was, at best, decent, but he knew that was the same as nothing, and he wished that were the biggest of his problems.
Ever since he decided to gather information on this family, he hadn't been able to sleep soundly because of a certain boy.
"If you're going to reincarnate me, at least give me a golden finger…! Don't spit in my face!" he muttered, frowning like he'd swallowed something bitter.
Just as Lin Mo Chen was complaining under his breath, the voice of a middle-aged elder echoed across the courtyard, calling a name.
"Lin Xuan!"
The air around the area shifted. Lin Mo Chen could see how the boys who'd been chatting quietly suddenly turned into brainless monkeys.
Their condescending, mocking gazes all turned in one direction.
A young man in simple blue robes walked calmly toward a stele, oblivious or perhaps used to the reactions he caused. A faint, self-deprecating smile stayed on his face, giving the impression he was the first to mock his own existence.
Stopping before the stele, he raised a hand and placed it on the cold surface. He closed his eyes for an instant; a barely perceptible glow ran across the monolith, so faint some thought it had broken, before words slowly appeared on its surface in a dim light.
The deacon observed the result. His face, previously indifferent, now showed clear disappointment, almost disdain. In a monotonous voice, he announced for all to hear:
"Lin Xuan, Ling Qi, Third Stage! Rank: Low."
The instant his voice faded, a wave of poisonous whispers and barely hidden laughter spread through the courtyard like a plague.
"What a disgrace! To dishonor the Lin family like this!" hissed a young disciple in plain robes.
"How ridiculous!" another mocked with feigned astonishment. "To think the peerless genius of Yunshan City would fall so low in just two years!"
Lin Mo Chen nearly choked on a cough when he heard what another family disciple said. Do you people seriously have no shame?
A third youth with a hoarse voice added solemnly: "Perhaps his talent defied the heavens and he suffered divine punishment."
"Bah!" someone in the crowd spat, not hiding his disdain. "If his father weren't the clan leader, this kind of trash would have been expelled long ago. How does he still have the face to stay here?"
The laughter and jeers, previously contained, now rang out openly and cruelly, rising from every corner of the courtyard like a chorus of contempt aimed directly at the young man in blue.
Lin Xuan slowly lifted his gaze from the ground. The self-deprecating smile he'd worn a moment before had vanished, replaced by a deep bitterness that hardened his features. His eyes, unfocused and distant, seemed lost in a silent question—why?—that no one else could hear.
From where he stood, Lin Mo Chen watched the whole spectacle with some discomfort; he was watching reality start to behave like a cheap novel.
Shit… that had to be the protagonist aura kicking in. A slight chill ran down his spine as he watched everyone lose their common sense.
And why would he think that? Simple—he knew the story behind the clan's laughingstock. That young man wasn't just some nobody.
At his peak, Lin Xuan had been the brightest prodigy the clan had ever seen... He started cultivating at four years old. At nine, he reached the ninth and final stage of the Ling Qi realm. And at twelve, he exceeded all expectations, condensing his first spiritual ring and becoming the youngest Ling Zhe in the entire history of Yunshan City.
And now… now he was the target of ridiculously exaggerated mockery.
Reduced to a shadow of what he'd been, the genius had become trash—a perfect setup for a xianxia protagonist.
In the middle of the storm of jeers, he watched as Lin Xuan quietly returned to the edge of the group; back straight, his solitary figure stood out among the noisy, hostile crowd like a lone rock in the middle of a raging river.
No one moved aside to let him pass, but no one dared block his way either. People simply stepped aside, his presence creating an awkward emptiness around him.
The middle-aged deacon's voice rang out once more, slowly calming the crowd.
"Lin Yan!"
Like a lively lark, a girl no older than fourteen shot out from the crowd. The instant she stepped onto the platform, the entire courtyard fell silent.
To Lin Mo Chen's eyes, she wasn't the legendary "jade beauty" often described in stories, but her charm was undeniable. Her small, youthful face still held traces of childhood; the innocence shining in her large, bright eyes immediately drew everyone's attention.
With a determination that sharply contrasted her delicate appearance, she pressed her hand against the stone stele and squeezed her eyes shut.
Unlike Lin Xuan's faint glow, the monolith burst with bright light.
When it faded, the middle-aged man regarded the result with a genuine, uncommon satisfaction. His usual indifference had vanished. Clearing his throat, he announced in a strong, resonant voice, full of pride:
"Lin Yan, Ling Qi, Seventh Stage! Rank: High!"
A collective murmur ran through the crowd, immediately followed by an explosion of enthusiastic exclamations and praise from all directions.
"Incredible! Ling Qi at the seventh stage at her age!"
"Seventh-stage Ling Qi! I bet she'll become a Ling Zhe before she's seventeen!"
"She really lives up to her reputation as one of the Lin clan's young prodigies."
The atmosphere of disdain from moments before vanished completely, replaced by admiration and shameless flattery.
Even Lin Mo Chen had to admit that was decent talent. Not like I'm in any position to judge, he muttered to himself.
Hearing the avalanche of praise, little Lin Yan puffed out her nonexistent chest, unable to hide her childish pride. Vanity, such a simple temptation, and yet one so many fall for without resistance...
As she came down from the platform, other youths quickly surrounded her to congratulate her. Lin Mo Chen, always alert for any source of entertainment, caught a subtle exchange. For an instant, Lin Yan's gaze met Lin Xuan's.
It was brief, but unmistakable. A flash of something complicated—vestiges of past affection mixed with present distance.
Almost immediately, she looked away, as if that small gesture alone drew a clear dividing line between their worlds. Lin Mo Chen watched as Lin Xuan let out an almost inaudible sigh, a silent cloud of resignation that vanished into the air.
Lin Mo Chen would have gladly enjoyed more of this delicious drama starring a main character, but the deacon's monotonous voice interrupted, shattering the moment.
"Lin Mo Chen!"
With obvious annoyance he stood up, muttering: "Of course, now it's my turn to look ridiculous, just you wait, old man, when I'm a Da Ling Shi…" He frowned and didn't finish the sentence; he knew with his talent he'd die of old age first.
Walking up the steps, he climbed onto the platform and approached the black stele. Lin Mo Chen looked at it for a second. Let's see the result of cultivating like crazy for a whole month.
Placing his hand on the cold stone, a faint glow, slightly stronger than Lin Xuan's, flickered briefly before fading. The deacon announced without the slightest interest:
"Lin Mo Chen, Ling Qi, Fourth Stage. Rank: Medium."
A puff of hot air escaped Lin Mo Chen's mouth as he sighed on his way down. Maybe if I throw myself into a canyon I'll get something?
Muttering to himself, Lin Mo Chen didn't realize he'd drifted slightly off his path.
Feeling eyes on him, he looked up, almost colliding with someone.
Right in front of him, Lin Xuan was speaking in a self-critical tone with a young woman who, without a doubt, fit the description of a jade beauty perfectly.
Her skin was like the purest snow, her eyes like autumn lakes on a rainy night, and her mere presence radiated a serene sweetness that contrasted sharply with Lin Xuan's bitterness.
The young woman spoke in a low voice, offering him comfort with sincere warmth.
Sensing the sudden closeness, the girl raised her gaze; her clear, deep violet eyes met Lin Mo Chen's.
That single look was enough to freeze Lin Mo Chen in place; his vast reader knowledge screamed at him that he was an idiot for self-sabotaging.
It was enough to see curiosity and surprise slowly reflect on Lin Xuan's face for a single thought to cross Lin Mo Chen's mind.
…I'm fucked.