Chen Wei, second son of the Chen Family's third elder, was not having a good day. This, in itself, was not a noteworthy event. In the sun-drenched tapestry of the Chen Riverwood Estate, Chen Wei was the coffee-stained thread tucked away in a corner. His life was a gilded cage of comfort and crushing inadequacy, a cycle of consuming the finest spiritual resources, attending lessons with esteemed tutors, and consistently, reliably, failing to live up to the family name.
He was twenty years old and stuck at the Second Layer of Qi Condensation. In a lesser family, this would be mediocre. In the Chen Family, it was a walking embarrassment.
The source of his current foul mood was, as it so often was, his cousin: Arya Chen.
Just that morning, during a supervised sparring session in the family's grand training pavilion, their instructor had been explaining the intricacies of the 'Crimson Spark,' a rudimentary fire-control technique. Chen Wei had been trying to master it for six months. His efforts usually resulted in a sad puff of warm air, a single spark, or, on one memorable occasion, accidentally setting his own sleeve on fire.
Arya, who had mastered the technique at age nine, had been passing by. He hadn't said a word. He hadn't even looked directly at Wei. He'd simply been walking to the alchemy chambers, and as he'd gestured to a servant, an incandescent ball of flame had danced playfully on his fingertip for a moment before extinguishing. It was an act as casual and thoughtless as breathing.
The instructor had sighed. The other junior cousins had snickered. And in that moment, Chen Wei had felt the familiar cocktail of jealousy and shame curdle in his stomach. Arya didn't even have to try to humiliate him. His effortless existence was a perpetual monument to Wei's own failure.
Now, he was sulking in his personal courtyard, a beautifully appointed but secluded corner of the sprawling estate. He kicked at a perfectly sculpted bonsai tree, wincing as the pain shot up his foot. Even the plants here were more successful than he was. He was surrounded by the evidence of his family's power—the jade-inlaid walkways, the bubbling spirit-fish pond, the rich aroma of high-grade pills drifting from the central chambers—and it all felt like a mockery.
"It's not fair," he muttered, plopping down onto a stone bench. "If I had his physique, his bloodline… If I just had one fated opportunity, one legendary treasure, I'd show them all. I'd show him."
It was then, in the depths of his self-pitying monologue, that a voice echoed directly in his mind. It was majestic, profound, and sounded as if it was being broadcast from the very edge of the cosmos.
[Mortal soul, rejoice! Your destiny has arrived!]
Chen Wei shot to his feet, a yelp escaping his lips. His head whipped around the empty courtyard. The spirit-fish bubbled. The bonsai tree stood there, silently judging him. There was no one there.
[You have been chosen by a will that transcends dimensions. A supreme treasure, forged in the crucible of primordial chaos by a being outside the grasp of universal law, has found its vessel.]
A translucent blue panel, shimmering with golden script, materialized before his eyes. It was an artifact of impossible beauty and otherworldly design.
Chen Wei's mind, conditioned by years of living in a powerful and paranoid family, did not jump to 'fated opportunity.' It jumped to 'assassination attempt.'
"Who are you?!" he shouted, drawing a decorative sword from his belt. It was a beautiful piece, inlaid with silver, but about as practical for combat as a feather duster. "Is this an illusion art? A curse from the Jin Family? Show yourself!"
He swung the sword wildly, slicing through a particularly offensive-looking flower. The petals drifted sadly to the ground. The voice in his head remained as calm and unruffled as a mountain lake.
[This is no illusion. This is your chance to grasp fate, to devour the heavens, to stand at the pinnacle of existence. This is the Undying Regeneration System.]
The name was strange, but the words 'undying' and 'regeneration' were very appealing. Still, he was a young master of the Chen Family. He'd heard tales of ancient demonic arts that whispered promises of power before turning their victims into mindless puppets.
"You're a demonic spirit, aren't you?" he accused, his voice trembling. He was trying to project an aura of authority, but it was coming out more like frightened squeaking. "My Chen Family has Nascent Soul ancestors! They will find you and purify your very essence!"
The system projected a feeling of cosmic weariness. [Demonic spirits are low-level parasites that fester in forgotten tombs. I am a supreme universal law made manifest. To compare me to a demon is to compare a True Dragon to a garden snake.]
The flattery was surprisingly effective. The analogy made him feel important by association. The garden snake was probably one of the Jin family members.
[Do you accept this gift of destiny? Do you wish to embark on the path of eternal life and limitless power? The power to surpass all who have looked down on you?]
The last part hit him like a physical blow. Surpass all who have looked down on you. It was a direct line to the core of his ambition. It was the system holding up a glowing sign that read: "POWER TO BEAT ARYA."
Two words pulsed on the screen.
[ACCEPT] / [DECLINE]
He stared at them, his mind a whirlwind of fear and desire. This was a monumental risk. If it was a trap, he could lose everything—his life, his soul, his comfortable position in the family. The safe option was to decline. He could continue his life of quiet mediocrity, forever in Arya's shadow.
He pictured Arya's indifferent face. He saw the perfect ball of flame on his cousin's fingertip. He heard the dismissive snickers of the other disciples. He felt the sting of a lifetime of being second-best, or third-best, or not even in the running.
Mediocrity was its own kind of death.
With a surge of desperate resolve, he focused all his will and slammed his mental fist onto [ACCEPT].
The screen flared with a light so bright he had to shut his eyes. [Host confirmed. Binding the Undying Regeneration System to the soul… 10%… 50%… 100%. Binding complete. Welcome, Host Chen Wei.]