Han Yun crouched a few meters away, pretending to fiddle with his cup while his eyes were locked onto Ye Fan like a starving cat eyeing a fat pigeon.
The former young master was still standing in front of the herbal stall, locked in a heated bargaining session with a grumpy-looking old vendor.
"I'll give you six spirit stones," Ye Fan said, arms crossed.
"For middle-grade sun ginseng? Are you trying to rob me blind?" the stall owner barked. "It's worth at least twenty!"
Ye Fan scoffed. "Twenty? I'm not buying a whole field of them. You think I'm some greenhorn? This stuff is clearly second-rate and dry. Ten stones is already generous."
Han Yun squinted. His haggling sounds like a teenager trying to lowball a seller on a second-hand trading app. The man had the kind of arrogance you'd expect from a protagonist, but the confidence… it had cracks. Like someone faking it till they made it.
Still, it was obvious he wasn't evil or anything. Just stingy. And probably broke.
Well, guess being hunted by your clan and living off pocket change does that to a guy.
As Han Yun listened, the system panel popped up again, gently floating into view.
[Cultivation Rank: Foundation Establishment – Peak Stage (Hidden)]
[Concealment Technique Detected: Spirit Veil Art (Low Grade)]
[Note: Subject is suppressing cultivation to avoid attention.]
"Damn…" Han Yun whispered under his breath. "He's already at the peak of Foundation Establishment?"
Then—ding!
The system screen flickered again. A new window opened, flashing with a faint golden light.
[Mission: Tarnish the Name of the Chosen One — Ye Fan]
Ye Fan is currently rebuilding his cultivation in secret while recovering from his clan's betrayal. Though once known as a prodigy, his current reputation in Misty Spring City is low—regarded as a fraud, a failure, and a discarded genius.
[Objective: Further damage his public image while avoiding direct conflict.
Sabotage a public interaction, spread a false rumor, or stage a scene that discredits him further.]
[Reward: Divine-grade Soul Nourishing Pill – Temporarily reconstructs the user's spiritual root and enhances natural talent.]
[Note: Caution advised. Direct combat is not recommended.]
Han Yun blinked, re-reading the mission line twice.
"…You want me to slander a guy who's already considered a joke?"
He glanced back at Ye Fan, who was now haggling over dried snake root like it was gold.
"…Okay, that feels a little evil."
But then he read the reward again.
Divine-grade Soul Nourishing Pill
Han Yun's eye twitched. That wasn't just some cheap cultivation candy. That was a miracle. Something that could fix his completely trash-tier talent. Something people would kill for. Something he needed if he was going to survive this world, let alone compete.
He clenched his fist slowly, eyes narrowing.
"Alright then, Ye Fan… you seem like a decent guy. But I've got bills to pay. And by bills, I mean my miserable stats and zero future."
Now, all he had to do… was ruin the already broken reputation of a fallen prodigy.
As Ye Fan continued arguing over ginseng prices like his life depended on it, Han Yun's eyes sharpened.
Now. This is the moment.
He stepped into the crowd, casually drifting closer like just another curious bystander. He waited for the perfect pause in their conversation—right as Ye Fan huffed and crossed his arms again, preparing another stingy counter-offer.
Then Han Yun struck.
He gasped loudly—loud enough to make nearby heads turn.
"Oh no... No way… Not him!"
Ye Fan and the stall owner both glanced up, confused.
Han Yun pointed dramatically, eyes wide like he'd just seen a ghost.
"By the heavens! Is that not Ye Fan—the Ye Fan—the legendary fraud genius of the Ye Clan from the Azure Dragon Flame Empire!?"
People started to glance over. A few stopped walking. Whispers started immediately.
Ye Fan blinked. "What—"
Han Yun wasn't finished.
"The same Ye Fan who was once hailed as a prodigy, only to end up Qi crippled after some family drama, and then vanished like a fart in the wind?!"
Ye Fan's eye twitched.
Han Yun clutched his chest as if in emotional pain. "Oh, how far the mighty have fallen! Once the hope of the empire—now trying to scam an honest herb vendor out of dried roots?! Say it ain't so!"
The stall owner raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the chaos. "Wait, you're that Ye Fan?"
Ye Fan frowned. "That's—Hey! I'm not scamming anyone!"
But the crowd was already forming, drawn in by the scent of drama like moths to spiritual flame.
Han Yun took a step forward, eyes glistening with fake tears. "I was once your fan, you know. Back when you were on the rise! I even wrote your name in my notebook under 'cultivators I admire.'"
The crowd collectively gasped. Someone in the back whispered, "He had fans?"
Han Yun nodded solemnly. "And now look at you… bargaining like a street rat, arguing over prices like a—like a cheap protagonist with no budget! Truly, this is the fall of a genius!"
Ye Fan's mouth hung open. He looked around as the whispers grew louder.
"Wait, that's him?"
"I thought he died!"
"No, no, he just vanished after that scandal."
"I heard his uncles crippled him for talking back."
"Bro couldn't even afford ten spirit stones? Yikes."
Ye Fan clenched his jaw.
Han Yun bowed his head. "I mourn for what you once were, Ye Fan… but more than that, I mourn for this stall owner, who almost got scammed by a fruad."
The vendor blinked. "Huh. You were trying to lowball me, weren't you?!"
Ye Fan, now surrounded by judgmental onlookers, slowly backed away with a clenched fist and the cold fury of a man whose side quest just turned into a public execution.
Han Yun, meanwhile, quietly backed into the crowd again, slipping away like a theatrical assassin.
And then—ding!
[Mission Complete: Ye Fan's Reputation Further Tarnished.]
Reward: Divine-grade Soul Nourishing Pill has been delivered to your system inventory.]
Han Yun smiled faintly.
Well… sorry, Ye Fan. But a man's gotta eat.
Ye Fan stood frozen as the laughter and whispers swirled around him like flies around a corpse.
"Scamming a herb stall? What a fall from grace."
"I heard he didn't just leave his clan—he stole something on the way out."
"Didn't his father disappear? Probably ran from embarrassment."
"Maybe he's just pretending to be weak so people pity him—classic fraud tactic."
His jaw tightened.
"No, that's not—" he started, but his voice barely carried over the growing chatter.
He looked around, eyes sharp with frustration. Somewhere in this crowd, that beggar was hiding—the one who started all this. Ye Fan's hands curled into fists.
That bastard... I'll find him. I swear, I'll teach that lowly dog a lesson when the time comes.
But he didn't move. Didn't lash out. Even as his name was dragged deeper into the mud, as the shopkeeper waved him off and the crowd slowly began to disperse with shaking heads and pointed fingers, Ye Fan held back.
His heart pounded.
He could silence them. One flash of his cultivation, one crack of spiritual pressure, and these street-level nobodies would be on their knees. All it would take was a flicker of his true strength.
But he didn't.
"Not yet." He thought
His path of revenge was one of patience. If he revealed himself now, everything he'd rebuilt in secret would be at risk. The ones he truly needed to defeat—his uncles, the elders who poisoned him, the traitors of the Ye Clan—would catch wind of his return too early.
He wouldn't waste his rise on petty gossip.
Meanwhile, a few meters away, in the shifting mass of people, Han Yun casually slipped deeper into the crowd, eyes wide with faux concern.
"Man… did you hear? Some say he stole the clan's ancestral records when he left," Han Yun whispered to a passerby with just the right tone of uncertainty. "Could be true. That jade pendant on him looked pricey. Real shady stuff."
The passerby gasped. "Seriously?"
Han Yun gave a subtle shrug and a pitiful shake of his head, like he too mourned the tragic fall of a once-glorious young master.
Then he turned a corner and vanished into an alley, the corners of his mouth twitching.
As Han Yun slipped into the narrow alleyway, the noise of the crowd behind him faded into a dull blur. The shady little smile on his face was half amusement, half pride.
His fingers casually fished into his pocket, pulling out a small pouch he'd acquired during the chaos—snatched clean off some rich-looking uncle too busy pointing fingers at Ye Fan to notice.
The pouch jingled faintly. Spirit stones.
"Bless your shallow attention span, good sir," Han Yun whispered with a sly smirk, tucking it into his ragged robe.
Then—ding!
The system panel blinked into view once more.
[Quest Complete: Ye Fan's Reputation Tarnished]
[Main Quest Activated: Interfere with the Fate of the Chosen One]
Each time you sabotage, disrupt, or eliminate a chosen one, you gain
Destiny Points—the core power that fuels their plot armor and fate-guided miracles.
Target: Ye Fan
Total Destiny Points: 10,000
Points Stolen: 250 (via Reputation Damage)
Destiny Points can be used in the System Shop to purchase items, techniques, cultivation resources, and even change your fate.
Han Yun's eyes lit up. "Destiny points…?"
The panel shifted, and for a brief moment, it displayed a swirling golden number in the corner of his vision.
[Current Destiny Points: 250]
He blinked. "So this is the stuff that lets protagonists pull off insane comebacks, randomly stumble on forbidden inheritances, or get saved by immortal grandpas when they should've died… and I can steal it?"
The thought sent a strange thrill through him.
"Only 250... and I already made the guy look like a con artist in front of half the city," Han Yun muttered, leaning against the cool stone wall.
"Imagine what I'd get if I sabotaged his cultivation. Or stole that jade pendant. Or…"
He grinned.
The kind of grin that didn't belong on a beggar's face. The grin of someone who knew they had found the backdoor to fate.
He raised a hand and gently tapped the glowing system panel.
Han Yun leaned against the alley wall, eyes glued to the system panel like a kid scrolling through a divine version of an online shop.
As much as he wanted to blow his newly acquired Destiny Points on something flashy—a cultivation boost, a cool sword, or maybe a divine-tier robe that made him look like less of a dirt merchant—he forced himself to think smart.
"Come on, You're not the protagonist. You can't just waste resources on aesthetics. Be smart"
He scrolled down past flashy techniques and golden artifacts glowing with epic-sounding names like Heaven-Shattering Palm of Eternal Tribulation (which, let's be honest, sounded like it required a six-pack and daddy issues).
Eventually, he landed on a tab labeled:
[System Upgrades & Extensions]
His eyes flicked through the list—some things were locked, some way too expensive. But then, one caught his attention.
[Target Tracking Module – 200 Destiny Points]
Description: Automatically monitors and updates status, movements, and actions of any previously identified Chosen One. Includes proximity alerts, status changes, and reputation shifts. Targets must be previously encountered and identified through the system.
Warning: Does not track all Chosen Ones. Only works on those already "bound" through interference.
Han Yun stared at the screen.
"...Damn."
It was exactly what he needed. With a world this massive and protagonists prone to wandering into caves or triggering world-ending encounters in the mountains, having a tracker was critical.
He hesitated for a second. Spending nearly all his points this early felt risky.
But what's the point of stealing fate if you can't even find the guy later?
He tapped the panel.
[Confirm Purchase? 200 Destiny Points will be deducted.]
Han Yun took a breath and hit YES.
ding!
[Purchase Successful. Target Tracker Activated.]
[Tracking Target: Ye Fan]
Immediately, a small golden icon with Ye Fan's name appeared in the corner of his interface, pulsing faintly.
[Status: Currently in Misty Spring City | Mood: Annoyed | Activity: Leaving the Herb District]
Han Yun blinked. "…Mood: Annoyed. Yeah, no shit."
He chuckled to himself.
Now, no matter where Ye Fan wandered—whether he found a secret master, unlocked some heavenly trial, or tried to bathe in dragon blood—Han Yun would know.
He tucked his hands behind his head and walked out of the alley with a lazy grin.
"Alright, big bro Ye Fan," he muttered, eyes locked on the little tracker glowing in his panel. "Let's see how long you can keep your fate… before I take the rest of it."
With the spirit stones he'd pickpocketed during the chaos—bless the distracted rich—Han Yun made his way to a more rundown part of Misty Spring City. Not too rundown, though. He didn't want fleas or a hole in the roof over his head.
He found a modest clothing stall on the side of the road and picked out a plain white robe. Nothing fancy, just something that made him look like a decent traveling scholar instead of a walking broom.
"Ten spirit stones," the vendor said flatly.
Han Yun squinted. "Seven. Come on, this stitching's about to fall apart."
The vendor raised an eyebrow.
"You see this thread? Loose as my last relationship."
The vendor looked unimpressed. "Eight."
"Deal."
Clothed and slightly less pitiful, Han Yun moved on to find an inn. He picked a cheap one near the eastern side of the city, just far enough from the busy center to be overlooked. After a bit of familiar bargaining—and channeling a bit of Ye Fan's stingy energy—he managed to rent a room for the night.
The innkeeper, used to tired travelers with dusty pouches, didn't ask questions.
Once inside, Han Yun locked the wooden door behind him and slid the latch twice for good measure. He scanned the room. One small bed, a table, a stool, and a ceramic washbasin. No windows. Perfect.
He sat down cross-legged on the bed, exhaled slowly, and summoned the system.
"Inventory," he muttered.
The panel shimmered, and with a soft flash, a pill appeared out of thin air—nestled on a small jade plate floating above his palm.
[Divine-Grade Soul Nourishing Pill]
The pill looked… fancy. Glossy, smooth, almost translucent like it was made of pearl and starlight. Gold patterns swirled faintly across its surface, like clouds drifting under moonlight.
Han Yun leaned in, cautiously sniffing it.
"Huh," he said, blinking. "No smell?"
He tilted it under the light, expecting that usual "heavenly scent" novels always described—something like flowers, sunlight, and power mixed together. But this?
It smelled like… nothing. Not bad, not good. Just empty.
"Well," Han Yun muttered, "I guess divinity doesn't always come with perfume."
He held it between his fingers for a moment, lips pressed in a line.
Then, without another word, he tilted his head back and swallowed it.
The pill slid down with surprising ease.
And for a moment, nothing happened.
Then—something did.
Han Yun sat there for a solid five seconds after swallowing the pill, blinking at the ceiling.
"…That's it?" he muttered. "No light? No thunder? Not even a little heat in the chest? I swear to god, if this system scammed me—"
And then his body exploded in pain.
"G-GUHH—!"
He collapsed from the bed instantly, crashing onto the floor with a loud thud, limbs spasming violently as a searing agony shot through every fiber of his being. It wasn't like fire, nor ice—it was something worse. Something deeper. Like his very existence was being unraveled and re-stitched from the inside out.
His fingers clawed at the wooden floor, jaw clenched so tight it hurt, eyes rolling back as waves of pure torment washed over him. His muscles locked. His breath caught. Every nerve screamed.
He couldn't even scream properly.
It was as if his soul was being peeled open and rewritten, stripped of its old, useless coding and overwritten by something new—something sharper, more attuned to this world.
It wasn't a refinement of the body. Not the gift of a sacred bloodline or the awakening of some ancient physique. No, this was something subtler. The restructuring of potential. The unlocking of dormant sensitivity. The one thing that determined whether a person could absorb Qi—and how well they could.
The talent to walk the path of cultivation.
And now, the trash-tier mortal Han Yun… was being reforged.
The pain was the price. The cost of changing one fate.
And before he could fully comprehend that truth—
—his vision went white, his body gave out, and he passed out cold on the floor.