“So, I really transmigrated into the world of a novel?”
In an ancient-style room filled with antique furnishings, Yan Zhen gazed into the mirror as he muttered to himself.
The young man reflected there matched his original handsome features perfectly, though far more youthful—around fifteen years old. His skin was fair, and his eyes were as clear as spring water.
The biggest change was the clothes he wore.
They could pass as ancient robes, modern attire, or a blend of both—perfectly suited to a martial artist in a fantasy world, accentuating his heroic air.
As for why he knew this was a novel world—more precisely, a power fantasy one—it was because he’d come with a system attached: the Protagonist Role-Playing System.
According to the system, some unknown reason had set this power fantasy world on a path to gradual collapse.
Once it collapsed, everyone, everything, and all events would vanish.
The only way to fix it and save all beings was to select someone as the “protagonist,” strictly following the plot to reenact the entire novel from start to finish.
Yan Zhen was the chosen one, with the system assisting him.
If he successfully reached the proper ending, Yan Zhen could choose to return to the real world as a billionaire or stay here to bask in the glory of being the triumphant protagonist.
【Does the host accept?】
Yan Zhen grinned at the system interface’s Yes/No popup.
The role he had to play wasn’t some face-slapped villain suffering in humiliation or a cannon-fodder sacrifice. It was the protagonist!
Who wouldn’t want to play the protagonist? Especially in a power fantasy!
Power fantasy protagonists had it easy at worst—taking a couple lumps now and then—otherwise, they were always showing off or on their way to show off more.
If it was a harem-style power fantasy, they even got a horde of beauties fawning over them.
Jackpot!
“Accept.”
Yan Zhen said it without hesitation.
【Distributing script now. Please receive, host.】
No sooner had the system spoken than a flood of plot details poured into Yan Zhen’s mind, as if he’d read and reread a multi-million-word power fantasy in an instant, remembering every detail crystal clear.
“Trash annulment flow plus ruthless power-up flow? Piece of cake.”
Though he’d never acted before, Yan Zhen brimmed with confidence.
The protagonist he needed to portray had a classic, straightforward persona.
He was the young heir of the City Lord’s Mansion in Martial Tang City, Garo Kingdom, Mystic Heaven Continent. A few years back, he was the genius prodigy everyone fawned over. But the Mystic force he’d cultivated was secretly absorbed by the mysterious crystal stone around his neck, causing his realm to plummet until it stalled at Mystic Disciple third stage. His peers overtook and left him in the dust.
Tumbling from the pedestal of genius to worthless trash, he endured endless sneers and scorn—even from his childhood sweetheart, who grew distant. It taught him the coldness of human nature, the harshness of the world, ignited a burning desire to grow stronger with unwavering resolve, and instilled the wisdom of “endure the lows, then shock the world with a single soar.”
That was the gist.
Today was the annual cultivation test day in the mansion. All his peers had made some progress over the year—except him, stuck in place.
He’d face mockery on the testing platform, then days later, his arrogant fiancée would forcefully annul their engagement amid heaps of humiliation.
Right on cue, the crystal stone—saturated with true qi—would slowly awaken, revealing a mysterious beauty who took him as her disciple.
From there, it was cheat powers, nonstop triumphs, a few setbacks sprinkled in…
“It’s formulaic, sure, but formulas are easy to follow. Not bad at all.”
The one regret for Yan Zhen? This was a no-romance power fantasy.
First distanced by his childhood sweetheart, then dumped by his fiancée, the protagonist swore off love, becoming a dao-focused, emotionless powerhouse.
He had a few confidantes, but none became official.
In the finale, two wives: one political marriage, the other the classic “succumbed to an aphrodisiac, got pregnant on the spot—gotta take responsibility.” Their screen time wasn’t much more than the confidantes’.
【Plot about to begin. Is the host ready?】
Yan Zhen flashed an OK sign.
He’d never acted, but he’d binged so many power fantasies, immersing in countless protagonists. He could slip into character instantly.
Bring it!
【Plot officially begins.】
【Current Plot—Chapter 1: Once a Genius, Now a Waste!】
【Role-Playing Requirements: ①After testing, show unwillingness at peers’ mockery; ②Separate from your once-closest childhood sweetheart.】
【Completion: 0%】
【Reach 100% plot completion for rewards. Go get ’em, host—the system is at your service anytime.】
Yan Zhen tweaked his expression in the mirror, fully immersing as the protagonist. He pushed open the door and headed toward the mansion’s training grounds.
…
“Mystic Disciple, third stage!”
Yan Zhen slowly withdrew his fair hand from the Testing Stele, clenching it into a fist. His strikingly handsome face flushed red, wearing an expression of utter unwillingness. Inwardly, he wondered, “First time acting—hope it’s convincing.”
The middle-aged man overseeing the test shook his head slightly but announced loudly:
“Yan Zhen, Mystic Disciple third stage. Evaluation: Poor!”
The words barely left his mouth before the deathly silent crowd below erupted like clockwork, hurling cold mockery at Yan Zhen.
“Total waste!” “Genius, my ass—hilarious!” “RIP! Suggest restart—go reincarnate already!”
They spewed every insult in the book, more dedicated than any online troll.
Only the middle-aged host’s booming “Quiet!” shut them up.
Yan Zhen knew it was plot-mandated, but he still felt speechless.
He was the City Lord’s heir, after all—higher status than most there. For them to mock him to his face? Ballsy!
If not for the plot, he’d drag a few ringleaders aside for a “private lesson,” showing these little punks something way more thrilling than any game.
A glance at his system interface showed 50% completion.
Yan Zhen dismissed it, keeping the unwilling look, biting his lower lip, fists clenched. He stormed off the platform, perfectly playing “so humiliated he wants to flee.”
But he couldn’t leave yet—the plot was half done.
“Next, Yan Meng’er.”
“Yan Meng’er, Mystic Disciple eighth stage. Evaluation: Excellent!”
The crowd of mansion youths—er, NPCs—erupted in cheers like rabid fans, clapping and whooping, a stark contrast to before.
Hearing her name, Yan Zhen looked toward the pretty girl in the crowd.
Yan Meng’er, his childhood sweetheart. She’d always idolized him growing up, sticking to him like a clingy birdling, often seeking his guidance on cultivation.
But once he fell from genius to trash, her vanity kicked in. She distanced herself fast, even avoiding him publicly.
Like now: spotting his gaze, she’d dodge it, pretending not to see—striking another blow to his already aching heart, severing his last illusions about childhood sweethearts.
The remaining plot hinged on this eye contact with Yan Meng’er!
Showtime for acting chops!
As he thought that, Yan Meng’er glanced over.
Their eyes met.
Time seemed to freeze in that instant.
