Pain came first.
It was the kind of pain that did not explode all at once, but seeped into every corner of the body, dull and heavy, like rust spreading through iron. Lin Chen lay face-down on the cold stone ground, his cheek pressed against a surface slick with blood and melted snow. Every breath scraped his lungs raw, as if the air itself had turned hostile.
He tried to move.
Nothing happened.
Not because he lacked the will—but because his body no longer obeyed him.
A shadow fell over his vision.
"So this is him?"
The voice was young, male, and dripping with unconcealed disdain.
Lin Chen forced his eyelids open a sliver. Blurred shapes swam into view. Several figures stood around him in a loose circle, their long white robes marked with the insignia of the Azure Cloud Sect's outer disciples. They were clean. Untouched. Their boots pristine.
Unlike him.
He lay in torn robes, ribs caved in, blood soaking through layers of cloth and skin. His spiritual sense—once sharp enough to feel the flow of qi in the air—was completely silent.
At the center of the group stood Zhao Feng.
Tall. Handsome. Talented.
And smiling.
Zhao Feng crouched down and grabbed Lin Chen's hair, yanking his head up so their eyes met.
"Look at you," Zhao Feng said softly, as if genuinely amused. "Just last year, the elders were calling you a once-in-a-decade talent. Now?" He chuckled. "You can't even gather qi."
Lin Chen's throat moved. Blood bubbled at his lips.
"You…" His voice came out hoarse, barely louder than a breath. "You stole…"
Zhao Feng tilted his head. "Stole?"
He laughed, straightening to his feet. "No, no. I received a gift."
From his sleeve, Zhao Feng pulled out a jade slip and let it dangle between his fingers.
Lin Chen's pupils shrank.
That jade slip was familiar. Too familiar.
It contained his cultivation method—the one his master had left behind before disappearing. The one Lin Chen had guarded like his life.
"You're wondering how I got this?" Zhao Feng asked casually. "Senior Sister Liu gave it to me."
The world went silent.
Lin Chen's breathing stopped.
Senior Sister Liu.
Liu Mei.
His fiancée.
The woman who had sworn an oath beneath the sect's ancestral stone to cultivate alongside him. The woman who had smiled gently while accepting his resources, his pills, his spirit stones—always saying it was for their future.
Zhao Feng saw the change in Lin Chen's eyes and grinned wider.
"She said you were holding her back," Zhao Feng continued. "Said a crippled waste like you didn't deserve such a method."
A sharp pain stabbed Lin Chen's chest, far worse than the physical wounds.
"Why…" he whispered.
Zhao Feng placed a boot on Lin Chen's chest and pressed down slowly.
"Why?" He leaned closer. "Because the strong deserve everything. And the weak?" His eyes turned cold. "Exist to be stepped on."
Crack.
Lin Chen screamed.
It wasn't his ribs that broke—though those shattered too—but something deeper. Something fundamental.
His meridians.
Zhao Feng deliberately released a burst of qi through his foot, forcing it into Lin Chen's body. The foreign energy rampaged through already damaged spiritual pathways, tearing them apart completely.
Lin Chen felt it happen.
Felt the last remnants of his cultivation collapse and scatter.
Felt the world sever itself from him.
"Aaagh—!"
Blood sprayed from his mouth. His eyes rolled back.
"Enough," one of the disciples said, frowning slightly. "If you kill him, the sect might ask questions."
Zhao Feng scoffed and lifted his foot.
"Relax. Senior Sister Liu asked me to leave him alive." He glanced down at Lin Chen with contempt. "Barely."
He turned away, waving his hand dismissively. "Drag him to the back mountain. If he survives, the beasts will deal with him."
Two disciples grabbed Lin Chen by the arms. Pain flared briefly—then faded as numbness set in.
He was thrown.
His body rolled across snow and stone, finally coming to rest near the edge of a ravine behind the sect grounds. Cold wind howled through the mountains, carrying the distant roars of spirit beasts.
Footsteps retreated.
Laughter faded.
Silence returned.
Snow began to fall.
Lin Chen lay there, staring at the gray sky through half-lidded eyes. Each snowflake drifted down slowly, melting as it touched his skin.
So this was his end.
Three years ago, he had entered the Azure Cloud Sect with hope in his heart and fire in his veins. Three years of relentless cultivation. Three years of discipline. Three years of dreaming of standing at the peak.
All of it—gone.
Betrayed by the woman he trusted.
Crushed by the man who replaced him.
Discarded by the sect that once praised him.
"I was… foolish," Lin Chen murmured.
His consciousness began to fade. The cold crept deeper, wrapping around his heart.
Just before darkness claimed him completely, a strange sensation tugged at his soul.
As if something unseen had reached out—
And pulled.
There was no pain.
No body.
Lin Chen found himself floating in an endless void, surrounded by darkness so deep it felt alive. Threads of light stretched across the emptiness, countless and intricate, weaving together like an infinite web.
"What… is this place?" he whispered.
His voice echoed strangely, as though reality itself were listening.
Then, a sound rang out.
Not from above or below—but from within his mind.
[Reincarnation confirmed.][Soul integrity: 100%.][Host identity verified: Lin Chen.]
Lin Chen froze.
"…A system?"
He had read stories like this. Countless legends spoke of heaven-defying individuals blessed with mysterious systems after death.
But this felt too real.
[Evaluating karmic balance…][Evaluating fate deviation…]
Images flashed before him—his humiliation, his broken body, Liu Mei's indifferent eyes, Zhao Feng's smile as he crushed his meridians.
The threads of light trembled violently.
[Karmic injustice detected.][Fate deviation: Extreme.]
The void seemed to respond.
The threads surged toward him, wrapping around his soul like chains forged from light.
[Unique condition satisfied.][Heavenly Destiny Harem System initializing…]
Lin Chen's breath caught.
"Harem… system?"
Golden radiance exploded outward, illuminating the void. The threads rearranged themselves, forming countless connections—each leading to a different existence.
Women appeared in the light.
An ice-cold empress seated on a frozen throne.
A demonic beauty bathed in blood-red flames.
A sword fairy standing atop a mountain of corpses, her gaze sharp enough to cut worlds.
A dragon princess sleeping beneath a sea of gold and bones.
Each one was connected by a glowing thread.
Every thread led to him.
[System bound to host.]
A torrent of information flooded Lin Chen's mind.
[Primary Function: Destiny Bond.][Secondary Function: Shared Cultivation.][Tertiary Function: Reverse Growth.]
He staggered in midair.
"What does this mean?" he demanded.
The system responded calmly.
[Any female individual with sufficient destiny value who forms a bond with the host will share her cultivation progress.][The greater her cultivation compared to the host, the faster the host's growth.]
Lin Chen laughed.
A broken, incredulous laugh.
"So the heavens crush me… then give me this kind of cheat?"
The system remained silent.
Then—
[Warning.][Host body condition: Critical.][Meridians: Destroyed.][Life force: Fading.]
Lin Chen's amusement vanished.
"Fix it," he said immediately.
A pause.
Then—
[Emergency repair authorized.][Consuming initial destiny reward.]
Golden light surged.
Agony tore through him—then transformed into something else entirely.
Reconstruction.
His shattered meridians reformed, wider and stronger than before. His bones knit together, reinforced with dense spiritual essence. His blood purified, glowing faintly with vitality.
Qi surged through his body like a raging river.
[Meridians repaired: Heavenly-grade.][Foundation reset.][Cultivation realm: Body Refinement, Peak.]
Lin Chen clenched his fists.
He could feel it.
Real power.
Not borrowed. Not stolen.
His.
"Send me back," he said.
[Reincarnation return commencing.]
Cold air slammed into his lungs.
Lin Chen gasped and sat upright, snow scattering around him.
He was back at the ravine.
But everything felt different.
He stood slowly. His body was light, strong, responsive. Qi flowed naturally, effortlessly, as if his body had been rebuilt from the ground up.
Footsteps echoed nearby.
Three outer disciples appeared along the path, chatting casually.
"Think that trash died yet?"
"If he didn't, the beasts will—"
Their voices died.
Lin Chen turned to face them.
Their laughter froze in their throats.
Something about his gaze made their hearts skip.
He smiled faintly.
"Looks like," Lin Chen said softly, "you forgot to finish the job."
The wind howled.
And somewhere, deep within the sect—
A destiny thread trembled.