I was born into a high-martial world, where spiritual qi revival has unleashed hordes of demon beasts.
My dad is a third-rate martial artist, my mom is second-rate, and our house is full of mortal-grade manuals.
When I was eight, I awakened a fusion panel.
Combine low-grade things into high-grade ones, mortal-grade into Mystic-grade.
I thought I was the chosen one, until I met Ye Yuan.
That good-for-nothing the whole school mocked suddenly got a cheat ability.
A month to temper his body, three months to reach third-rate, crushing everyone all the way.
I saw with my own eyes as his enemies' cultivation plummeted and wounds appeared on their bodies, matching his.
That golden finger was so absurd, I immediately chickened out.
I wasn't the protagonist. He was.
So I decided to keep my head down.
Pretend to be useless, stay invisible, and always scrape by with the minimum passing grade.
He reaps the geniuses; I fuse cultivation manuals.
He becomes famous; I run errands in the support department.
The Great Sun's Nine Revolutions: each revolution doubles your true qi. I secretly trained all the way to the third.
The night my parents died in battle, I was forced to reveal my strength, but nobody saw.
The survivors got into university through special admission. I avoided his Kyoto and chose Modu instead.
Ye Yuan, you can be the chosen one. I'll fuse my own future.
One day, you'll realize the real monster was never the one in the spotlight.
