Lin An never asked to become a cultivator. By the time he realized he was no longer living his own life, he was already standing inside the Jiuxiao Sect, carrying the name of an outer disciple whose future had almost reached its end.
The memories left behind did not offer much comfort.
His spirit veins were damaged, his talent barely qualified him to stay in the sect, and several years of cultivation had produced little besides ridicule. Another failed examination would mean expulsion, and nobody expected a different result. Even Lin An found it difficult to argue with that conclusion after discovering how hopeless the original owner’s situation really was.
Then an odd screen appeared before his eyes.
At first it looked almost useless. It didn’t improve his cultivation, hand him miraculous treasures, or fill his body with overwhelming power. Instead, every choice suddenly came with a number attached to it. Opening a cultivation manual, swallowing a medicinal pill, attempting a breakthrough, accepting a request from another disciple, every action carried a percentage showing the chance that things would go his way.
The more Lin An relied on it, the stranger the results became.
A technique everyone considered worthless sometimes carried a surprisingly high chance of success, while methods praised throughout the sect occasionally ended in disaster. Certain places looked ordinary until the numbers suggested otherwise, and seemingly harmless decisions often hid consequences nobody could have guessed without taking the first step.
Following the highest percentage, however, didn’t always solve his problems.
A ninety-nine percent chance of staying alive usually meant remaining weak. The opportunities capable of changing his future often came with numbers low enough to make any sensible cultivator walk away. Before long, Lin An stopped asking which option looked safest and started wondering how to turn impossible odds into something worth risking.
His quiet routine inside the sect gradually changed because of those decisions. Elders began noticing things they couldn’t quite explain, fellow disciples found themselves repeatedly crossing paths with someone they had already written off, and places that should have remained forgotten kept drawing his attention for reasons even he couldn’t fully understand.
Every percentage answered one question while quietly creating another.
For Lin An, cultivation was no longer about chasing the strongest technique or the rarest treasure. It became a game of choices, where a single decision could open the road to an unexpected opportunity, or send him straight toward a fate that no number could completely predict.
