The Entire Sect Is Making Wild Guesses, But I'm Really the Mastermind

I'm the sect's famously lazy outer disciple, dead last in cultivation, and about to be kicked out.

No one knows that I can see everyone's fate.

To protect myself, I grafted the fated protagonist's opportunities onto the people around me.

[Ding! Successfully grafted “Marrow-Cleansing Pill.” Backlash: Hounded by every dog in the sect!]

[Ding! Successfully grafted “Peerless Sword Manual.” Backlash: Developed the odd habit of wanting to collect any socks I see!]

I thought my life would keep teetering between courting death and dying of embarrassment.

But I never imagined...

My honest, simple-minded junior brother would mistake me for a mastermind who has calculated the fate of all living things!

My cold junior sister would mistake me for a Daoist Venerable who has severed all ties to the past!

Even the enemy whose opportunity I stole would mistake me for a god or demon who roams the mortal world for fun!

When the entire sect knelt and begged me to come out of seclusion, I stood there completely dumbfounded, a wok on my head and a freshly collected pair of ragged socks tucked in my arms.

Wait, isn't something wrong with this script?