I Really Don't Want to Be the Child of Fortune

Thunder rumbles beyond the island as heaven and earth change color. In the sky, phantom qilin and phoenixes circle and intertwine, while a giant dragon and Black Tortoise stand guard. The pressure is terrifying, the spectacle astonishing!

Everyone looked closely. A boy of seventeen or eighteen stood on the island, strikingly handsome in flowing white robes, standing against the wind with the air of an immortal.

He stood amid the thunder, and the bolts veered around him.

He stood at the heart of the storm, and the tempest stopped dead before him.

Everyone was stunned. What manner of wonder was this? What did it mean to be born with such extraordinary gifts, to be Heaven's chosen one?

Only Chen Duxian wore a pained expression.

I really don't want to be the chosen one!