Cold, splintered floorboards pressed against Xiao Tian's cheek. Dust swirled in the dim light, tickling his throat until a violent, hacking cough tore through his chest. Metallic warmth pooled in his mouth, and he spat a dark glob of blood onto the rotting wood. Clutching his ribs, he gasped for air, his heart hammering like a trapped bird. Every muscle in his body screamed in agony, but physical pain was nothing compared to the burning brand of his memories. Images of his past life flashed behind his closed eyelids, sharp and agonizing. He had been Xian Tian, an esteemed Earthly Realm cultivator, a man who stood at the absolute peak of the northern heavens. Seclusion had been his goal, a quiet retreat on the Crimson Star to breakthrough to the next major realm. Instead, his closest allies had shattered his protective arrays, entering his sanctuary with smiles on their faces and poison in their cups. Unforgivable betrayal. Seven swords had pierced his back simultaneously, tearing his dantian to shreds while his sworn brothers laughed at his foolish trust. He remembered the cold sneer on his brother-disciple's face, the way the blade had twisted in his flesh, and the sickening realization that his own complacency had destroyed him. Arrogance had been his downfall, believing himself invincible while the people he loved plotted his demise. Never again. Anger flared, a hot spark in his cold chest, but he forced it down, clamping a tight lid on his emotions. Breathing deeply, he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees. Fragile, thin arms trembled under his weight, looking more like twigs than human limbs. This was not his powerful, immortal body. Staring down at his hands, he noted the pale, translucent skin, the dirt caked under his fingernails, and the absolute lack of calluses from swordplay. Where was he? Looking around, he took in the cramped, miserable room. Peeling plaster clung to damp stone walls, and a single, cracked window let in the grey, miserable light of a stormy afternoon. Rain lashed against the glass, dripping through a gap in the sill onto a pile of damp straw that served as a bed. Suddenly, a torrent of foreign memories flooded his brain, locking with his own consciousness like gears grinding together. Xiao Tian. He shared the same name, but this boy was a sickly, eight-year-old orphan on a backwater world called the Recluse Blue Planet. This world was a joke, a tiny, low-energy speck on the furthest edge of the mortal realms, completely cut off from the grand celestial heavens. Worse, this run-down orphanage was managed by a minor, forgotten branch of the Xiao family. Irony tasted bitter on his tongue. He had spent his previous life striving for greatness, only to be slaughtered for his success. Now, he was reborn as the absolute lowest of the low, a fragile speck of dust in a forgotten corner of the universe. A slow, desperate smile crept onto his face. Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. Insignificant meant safe. Nobody cared about a sickly orphan in a backwater branch family. If he remained completely average, never showing a single spark of talent, he could live a long, boring life free from betrayal. He would blend into the background, a ghost among the living, and never climb the dangerous ladder of cultivation again. --- A soft, melodic chime echoed directly inside his skull. Pale blue light flickered before his eyes, coalescing into a neat, semi-transparent screen. *Jack of All Trades System Initialized.* Xiao Tian froze, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at the words hovering in the air. *Host: Xiao Tian.* *Current Title: Ultimate Average.* *Path Unlocked: Jack of All Trades (Master of None).* *Available Skills: Alchemy (Lv.0/100), Blacksmithing (Lv.0/100), Array Formations (Lv.0/100), Martial Combat (Lv.0/100), Stealth (Lv.0/100), Cooking (Lv.0/100)...* A massive list of categories scrolled down his vision, covering everything from high-level immortal arts to basic household chores. He stared at it, a cold dread pooling in his stomach. "No," he muttered, shaking his head frantically. "No, no, no." A system was a death sentence. In his past life, rumors of legendary treasures or heavenly aids caused entire star systems to burn in endless wars. If anyone found out he possessed a cheat that could grant him power, they would skin him alive to extract it. Besides, the title of the system itself was an insult. A jack of all trades was a master of none. Cultivation required absolute, singular dedication to a single path to reach the pinnacle. Spreading his focus across a million different skills would only guarantee he remained mediocre at everything, a target for actual geniuses. "I reject this," he whispered, searching for a decline button. "System, uninstall. Go away." *Error: System is permanently bound to the Host's soul. Attempting to ignore the system will result in passive skill accumulation.* Xiao Tian groaned, burying his face in his hands. This was a cruel, cosmic joke. He wanted to hide, to be completely ordinary, but the universe had strapped a ticking time bomb of potential to his soul. To test his theory, he carefully stood up, trying to walk silently across the creaking floorboards. Keeping his center of gravity low, he stepped with extreme caution, barely putting any weight on his heels. *Stealth Skill unlocked (Lv.1/100). Passive effect: Presence reduced by 5%.* Xiao Tian immediately stopped, holding his breath. Just by trying to walk quietly, he had leveled up. "Stop helping me," he hissed at the empty room. "If my presence drops too fast, people will wonder why they keep forgetting I'm in the room. That's suspicious!" Cautious people did not have magical stealth skills. They simply stayed in their rooms and minded their own business. Splashes of freezing water hit his face as he washed his eyes in a cracked washbasin in the corner. Staring back at him from the murky water was a pale, hollow-cheeked face with dark circles under wide, expressive eyes. He looked incredibly weak, like a stiff breeze could knock him over. Good. Physical weakness was a perfect shield. He decided he would cultivate just enough to keep this body from dying of a common cold, but no more. Sitting back down on the damp straw mattress, he crossed his thin legs and closed his eyes. He began the basic breathing exercises of his old sect, attempting to draw in the microscopic traces of spiritual qi in the air. Almost instantly, his narrow, clogged meridians screamed in protest. It felt like dragging jagged glass through his veins. "Incredible," he muttered, stopping immediately and gasping for air. "This body is absolute trash. One wrong move and I'll cripple myself." *Cultivation Insight unlocked (Lv.1/100).* *Internal Meridian Cleansing unlocked (Lv.1/100).* A warm, soothing energy suddenly washed through his chest, widening and strengthening his narrow meridians by a tiny fraction. Xiao Tian grabbed his hair in pure frustration, pulling at the messy black strands. "I said stop!" he wanted to scream. "I don't want to improve!" If his meridians cleansed themselves every time he failed to cultivate, he would accidentally become a peerless genius in a matter of months. Prodigies attracted attention. Attention led to expectations, expectations led to rivalry, and rivalry led to a sword through the chest. He had to actively suppress his own growth, to play the role of a useless, sickly child so perfectly that no one would ever look twice at him. Slouching his shoulders, he let his chin drop, forcing his breathing to become shallow and ragged. He practiced looking tired, empty-headed, and thoroughly defeated. *Acting Skill unlocked (Lv.1/100).* He buried his face in his hands, letting out a long, defeated groan. It was a curse. Every single action he took seemed to trigger a new skill, making him slightly better at everything. He had to find a way to lock these skills, or at least keep them completely hidden from any soul-scanning techniques. --- Footsteps echoed down the wooden hallway outside his room. Heavy, dragging steps. Xiao Tian immediately scrambled back onto his mattress, pulling the thin, threadbare blanket up to his chin. He let his jaw slacken, his eyes glazing over as he pretended to be in a feverish stupor. Creaking loudly on its rusted hinges, the door swung open. Standing in the doorway was the orphanage caretaker, Mother Zhou. She was a plump woman with graying hair, dressed in simple, faded robes that smelled of boiled cabbage and cheap incense. "Ah, little Tian," she said, her voice dripping with maternal warmth. "You're finally awake." Carrying a wooden tray with a bowl of watery, gray porridge, she stepped into the small room. Xiao Tian shrank back, mimicking the behavior of a terrified, sick child. "I... I'm sorry, Mother Zhou," he whimpered, making his voice shake. "I didn't mean to sleep so late." "Shh, child, do not worry," she whispered, sitting on the edge of his bed. Reaching out, she placed her hand, cool and soft, against his forehead. "You have been burning with a fever for three days," she said gently. "We thought we lost you." Her touch was incredibly comforting, almost enough to make him let his guard down. But trust was a luxury he had buried in his past life. Watching her closely, he analyzed her every movement. Blowing on the hot porridge, she offered a spoonful to him, her eyes soft with concern. Leaning closer, she smiled. As the orphanage caretaker approaches, a glint of something unnatural flashes in her seemingly kind eyes, and Xiao Tian feels a primal dread he hasn't known since his death.

Chapter 1: Rebirth, Echoes, and Escape