I Just Wanted To Live but I Somehow Became Better Than the Protagonist

He felt as if he could not breathe. Looking around at the nearby male cultivators, none spoke; even those junior brothers he had once cared for turned their gazes elsewhere, pretending not to know him. Clearly, this was not the first time such a thing had happened, nor would it be the last. He had merely stepped on a landmine.

With a precedent set, the number of those who dared to openly mock Ye Yong dwindled significantly. They even hesitated to discuss him, fearful that a careless word might incite the wrath of the female cultivators.

In the world of cultivation, handsome men and beautiful women were abundant. To stand out among them was no surprise, and the attention it garnered was expected.

Opposites attract; Ye Yong drew the attention of the female cultivators, while Qin Shidream captured the gaze of the male ones upon her arrival.

These senior brothers, fresh from their seclusion, had heard of Ye Yong’s exploits, but they had also heard the tale of Qin Shidream.

The newcomer female cultivator, with her formidable talent, had been taken under the wing of Elder An Yufang, known for her icy demeanor, as her personal disciple right upon entering the sect. If this was merely an advantage in talent and cultivation, those who had seen her beauty praised her endlessly, calling her “Fairy Qin,” which undoubtedly indicated that she possessed something extraordinary.

Qin Shidream wore a veil; compared to Ye Yong’s ostentatious entrance surrounded by admirers, she floated in her flowing red robes, solitary yet not appearing lonely or pitiful. Instead, she resembled a celestial being, not lacking in companions, but rather, her companions dared not approach her freely.

Besides Ye Yong and Qin Shidream, there were other newcomers who were quite impressive, yet in terms of fame and attention, they paled in comparison to the two, resulting in little discussion about them. The focus of the senior brothers and sisters was primarily on these two.

Long Tian and Qiu Li were the type to blend into the crowd without a second glance, drawing no attention whatsoever. They arrived at the gathering place for the outer disciples of the Sword Pavilion.

“I wish I could stand beside Young Master Ye Yong, even if just for a second, to experience the feeling of being the center of attention,” Qiu Li said, gazing adoringly in Ye Yong’s direction.

Long Tian remained silent, though he too stole a few glances that way. The more he looked, the more he felt that Ye Yong, surrounded by the crowd, was extraordinary. Even the fallen immortal elder commented, “This Ye Yong, I wonder what kind of cultivation method he practices. He exudes a peculiar aura from within, and aside from his own excellence, the admiration of others is also tied to this aura.”

“Is there such a thing? A method akin to enchantment?”

“No, enchantment belongs to the dark path. He is of the righteous kind. It’s like a celestial being descending to the mortal realm; even the mightiest sage here would feel compelled to kneel and worship upon seeing him. This stems from a powerful aura that transcends and suppresses others. That’s the essence of it. He likely cultivates an extraordinary celestial body and celestial methods.”

“A celestial body and celestial methods, you say…” Long Tian was currently cultivating a sacred body and sacred methods. According to the fallen immortal elder, he would need some special materials to transform into a celestial body. Whether he could obtain those materials was uncertain, which made Long Tian yearn for the celestial body and methods even more.

“I mentioned before that there is likely a powerful presence behind him. It seems that ordinary sages cannot grant him the celestial body and methods, so I believe he is the kind who has received ancient legacies and is on the verge of ascension, perhaps even with several others involved.”

“You mentioned that the Heavenly Dao has encountered problems, making it impossible to sense the celestial realm here, thus modern cultivators cannot ascend.”

“Exactly. Everything for ascension is prepared, yet they cannot move forward, trapped in the lower realm. They will surely seek other pursuits, such as continuing to study ancient battlefields, unearthing more clues about the past conflicts, or pooling resources to cultivate a prodigy unmatched in the last thousand years.”

“Ye Yong is that prodigy, right?” Long Tian found this reasoning compelling. The fallen immortal elder could be seen as a similar case; with nothing to do, he meticulously guided Long Tian. Whether human or immortal, when idle, one must find something to occupy themselves to avoid boredom.

Long Tian did not envy Ye Yong. Being chosen by those sages was Ye Yong’s fortune, while

The more Ye Yong gained, the more exhilarating the chase became for Long Tian. Imagine, a prodigy gathering the rarest resources from the lower realms, only to be surpassed in the end—could there be anything more thrilling in this world?

——

At 9 AM, all who could come had arrived. The square was filled with tens of thousands of disciples from the Tian Luo Sect, making up four-fifths of the total number, a significant increase from previous years.

The elder presiding over the event, seeing that the time had come, began to speak: “I shall keep it brief…”

An hour later, after what was supposed to be a brief address, the elder finally finished, gesturing for Ye Yong, the representative of the new disciples, to come up and say a few words.

The drowsy disciples below immediately perked up, their gazes snapping to Ye Yong as he slowly ascended the high platform.

Under the scrutiny of thousands, Ye Yong felt an overwhelming discomfort, as if every inch of him was laid bare, stripped of privacy.

And with so many eyes filled with expectation and mockery, he could not resort to the rehearsed lines of his student days—thanking his parents for their nurturing, expressing gratitude to the elders of the Tian Luo Sect for this opportunity. How dreadfully dull that would be! Though he had intended to deliver such a perfunctory speech, it was clear that wouldn’t suffice now.

The steps to the platform were numerous, and halfway up, Ye Yong wished he could pace back and forth a few times, buying himself more time to think of how to navigate this occasion—something that would meet the public’s expectations, command respect, yet not lead to his own downfall at the hands of fate.

—

09 Ah-ha!

At last, Ye Yong stood upon the high platform, gazing at the sea of faces that seemed to stretch endlessly before him. His expression was impassive, appearing steady, yet inside, he was a tempest of anxiety.

Despite the throng of thousands, an eerie silence enveloped the moment, amplifying his pressure. Not a sound broke the stillness, and the weight of countless gazes—filled with anticipation, admiration, disdain, and amusement—pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe. Before his crossing, he had only ever delivered speeches in front of a few dozen classmates.

Time for contemplation dwindled, and after a moment of struggle, Ye Yong resolved to take a gamble.

There were several styles of speeches. The calm approach, with little fluctuation throughout, occasionally peppered with humor. The rising action, starting blandly and gradually building emotional intensity. And then there was the bold opener, launching straight into a high-energy start, only to taper off later.

The latter methods grew increasingly difficult; for an ordinary person, igniting the crowd from the outset was a formidable challenge. Yet, as a traveler from another world, Ye Yong possessed the ability to do just that.

He took a deep breath and began—“Heaven bestows great responsibilities upon this person.”

The reason why timeless phrases endure through the ages is not only because they contain profound truths, but also because they evoke a sense of awe.

In the lower realm where Ye Yong currently resides, one cannot say that culture is weak, yet it certainly pales in comparison to Earth. As the verses of poetry were recited, the very air of the square trembled, and the clear sky began to gather swirling clouds, circling above Ye Yong’s head, forming a cyclone.

The moment he uttered the first line, Ye Yong regretted it. He knew he had lost the gamble, played by the hands of the Heavenly Dao, which had evidently been waiting for the chance to create a spectacle of his downfall. Once it seized the opportunity, it would not let it slip away.

He distinctly remembered reciting poetry for Lin Wei back at the Ye family, where the air merely quivered. How could it be so exaggerated now? It felt as if a multitude of unseen scholars were reciting alongside him, each word resonating in the ears, penetrating the soul. The sky was even more dramatic; one might think he was about to undergo a tribulation, a massive cyclone swirling above him, spiritual energy gathering, denser than ever, a golden haze enveloping the scene.

What mattered most was that Ye Yong found himself unable to stop, as if he had chewed on something addictive, his mouth moving uncontrollably. He continued to recite, finishing the entire poem in a daze.

Now, his original plan of “reciting a poem to captivate the crowd, then tossing out a few casual remarks for a perfect conclusion” had spectacularly backfired, and he was now tagged with the label of “Ye Yong’s poetry actually invoking a phenomenon of heaven and earth.”

“How can there be such a change in the heavens and earth!?” Long Tian exclaimed in shock. He acknowledged that Ye Yong’s poetry was indeed remarkable, but this transformation was too grand, something he had never witnessed in his life.

“The more abundant and powerful the spiritual energy, the more it can sense and communicate with the heavens and earth. This is the first peak of Tianluo Sect, the source of the dragon vein, the most concentrated place of spiritual energy. Plus, he possesses a celestial body; it is only natural for the heavens to respond,” the old Immortal of the Fallen Stars remarked, well-versed in such matters. To him, this phenomenon was merely of average significance.

Yet, not everyone could provoke such “average significance,” and thus the old Immortal’s evaluation of Ye Yong rose considerably.