Chapter One: I'm Only One Year Old—What Kind of Reversal System Is This?

Year 33 of Yonghe in the Great Wei, twelfth day of the twelfth lunar month.

Goose-feather snow drifted from the sky, casting a somber pale shroud over every alley and lane of the capital. Few pedestrians braved the streets, and even the usually bustling Vermilion Bird Avenue at the foot of the Imperial City seemed subdued. Yet beyond two ward districts to the east, the Marquis of Wu’an’s residence was alive with deafening firecrackers and joyous commotion.

“The magistrate of Changle County, Master Tong, has arrived, bringing a pair of longevity locks and two hundred coins as gifts.”

“Assistant Minister Liu from the Military Department has arrived, presenting a famed sword and a renowned dagger...”

One after another, ornate carriages proceeded along Fengtong Street, halting steadily before the marquis’s gates. Dignitaries in splendid robes disembarked, guided inside by the house stewards and attendants.

“Master Liu, it’s the first birthday banquet for the Marquis Chen’s two sons today. I wonder which young master will pick up what at the grab ceremony?”

“Young Master Yuan has the blood of two martial marquises, surely he’ll grab a blade or seal, carrying on the martial legacy.”

“And what of Young Master Yi?”

“Well, Young Master Yi has common blood... he’s rather frail. If he manages to pick up a writing brush, that’ll be good enough.”

“If he grabs a handkerchief or food, we must restrain ourselves lest we disappoint the marquis...”

...

At that moment, in the main hall of the central courtyard.

More than a dozen square tables were arranged in a circle, with a handful of guests seated here and there. In the center, a carpet custom-made in Western Luzhou sprawled across the floor, its red surface embroidered with snowy white cranes.

Behind a nearby folding screen, a beautiful woman clad in a snow-white fur coat and a blue pleated dress carefully tucked the cloth jacket around the child in her arms.

“Be good, Yi’er. The weather is cold; don’t catch a chill.”

“Yiya.” Chen Yi let his birth mother, Xia Wanwan, fuss over him, his black, jewel-like eyes peering curiously beyond the screen.

A year had passed, and he’d long realized he had transmigrated. This world was not the one he had known, but a place called the Tianyuan Continent—where not only officials and heroes, scholars and sects, and academies existed, but also fiends and monsters threatening human lives.

Fortunately, this time he’d won out among ninety-nine point nine percent of little tadpoles and been born into the household of a martial marquis. No longer would he worry about food, drink, or clothing, nor fear the menace of demons.

From the guests’ murmured conversations, Chen Yi vaguely perceived that this birthday banquet held special significance. He caught only fragments—“grab ceremony,” “sword and seal,” “martial path”—but couldn’t grasp the whole.

Never mind, he thought, I’ll just aim for the sword and the seal. That’ll do. With his strength—able to crawl around the chambers ten times in half an hour—he could certainly win first place in ten seconds.

“Mother doesn’t ask you to grab a sword or a blade—just don’t pick food, or you’ll become the butt of jokes.” Xia Wanwan, evidently having overheard the guests, spoke gently.

Chen Yi blinked at her, his expression pure and adorable.

She smiled softly, thinking: Even if he does choose food, it doesn’t matter. As long as Yi’er lives a peaceful, happy life, nothing else is as important.

“Wan’er, why aren’t you with Wanyi and the others?”

At that moment, the Marquis of Wu’an, Chen Taiping, strode over in robes of pure white brocade.

“Husband,” Xia Wanwan rose to greet him. “Sister Wanyi was worried the two children would become too rowdy together.”

“Yuan’er really isn’t as well-behaved as Yi’er. He was just teased into tears by Old Tong’s second boy.”

Delighted by Chen Taiping’s praise of her son, Xia Wanwan beamed.

“Then, husband, do remind sister to keep an eye on Yuan’er.”

“Mm.” Chen Taiping pinched Chen Yi’s cheek, giving it a little tug.

“Little Yi’er, don’t copy your brother—no mischief, don’t upset your mother.”

Chen Yi rolled his eyes in pain and turned away, ignoring him. Compared to his gentle mother, this father was nothing alike—sometimes childish, sometimes stern, and downright frightening when angry.

“Heh, is this little rascal disdaining me?”

“Who told you to tease Yi’er?” Xia Wanwan scolded playfully.

“A father bullying his own son—that’s only natural...” Chen Taiping grumbled, then drew a medicine bottle from his sleeve.

“Wanyi prepared a pill for Yi’er. It’ll make him interested in shiny things during the grab ceremony. Don’t forget to give it to him.”

“There’s such a thing?” Xia Wanwan asked curiously, taking the bottle.

“Yes,” Chen Taiping nodded. “Wanyi’s family apothecary devised it—it works well. If Yi’er successfully grabs a sword or something similar, then wears it for two years, his constitution will improve, making his future foundation more solid.”

So that was the purpose. Only then did Chen Yi realize the meaning behind the grab ceremony. Yet, why must such a good thing be decided by grabbing? Why not simply give one to every child?

“Thank you, husband,” Xia Wanwan murmured. “And thank sister Wanyi for me.”

“No need for such formalities among family.”

Chen Taiping reassured her, glanced outside, and said, “You stay and look after Yi’er. The Prince of Zhenbei should be arriving soon. I’ll go meet him.”

“Take care, husband.”

Once Chen Taiping had gone, Xia Wanwan’s brow furrowed slightly, and she sighed.

“Another debt to her...”

Chen Yi blinked, understanding her mood.

The Wanyi whom Xia Wanwan referred to was Zhou Wanyi, Chen Taiping’s principal wife. Not only was she the lady of the house, her family—the Zhous—stood equal to the Chens as martial marquises of Great Wei: a true lady of noble birth.

Xia Wanwan, on the other hand, came from a modest scholarly family in North Zhili. She’d married into the marquis’s household after a twist of fate—having saved a gravely wounded Chen Taiping. In background and resources, she could never rival Zhou Wanyi. This explained why she tread so carefully in the marquis’s estate, always careful never to overstep.

Not only Xia Wanwan, but Chen Yi himself, as the son of a concubine, received different treatment. For instance, in food and clothing, his elder brother Chen Yuan always enjoyed better.

Yet, with memories of a past life, Chen Yi saw through it all. One’s birth is merely the preface to life; the future must be forged by one’s own hand.

After a silent moment, Xia Wanwan recalled Chen Taiping’s instructions. She poured out a pea-sized pill and carefully placed it in his mouth. Chen Yi swallowed obediently. Although he could distinguish a sword without the pill, there was no arguing—babies had no say.

Once he’d taken it, Xia Wanwan stroked his hair. “Yi’er, debts must be repaid someday. I lack the ability, so I’ll rely on you in the future.”

Chen Yi reached out to touch her face. Unable to speak, he could only comfort her in this way.

She smiled, holding his tiny hand. “I’m fine. As long as you grow up well, nothing else matters.”

“Yiya ya.”

“Yes, I believe you’ll become a warrior like your father.”

How she understood his baby babble, he had no idea.

But soon, Chen Yi could no longer smile. To be precise—he was hungry!

A sudden pang of hunger gripped him, his belly twisting in pain and making his whole body tremble.

There was something wrong with that pill!

In an instant, Chen Yi realized the truth. The pill’s effect wasn’t to attract him to shiny things—it was to sharpen his appetite. The real aim: to make him grab food at the ceremony?

Or perhaps, force him to withdraw from the grab altogether?

At the same time, Chen Yi guessed who was behind this. In the entire household, besides the madam, Zhou Wanyi, there could be no other culprit!

“She would dare act so openly—does she not fear I’ll cry out?”

Enduring the hunger, Chen Yi’s mind raced.

What should I do? Should I shout or keep silent?

Or maybe just ask for some food first?

The grab ceremony was about to begin and I...

Just then, a translucent panel appeared before his eyes.

[Detected: Host has been poisoned with “Gluttony Pill,” Revenge Points maxed, Counterattack System initializing...]

As these words appeared, the hunger quickly faded, and Chen Yi breathed a sigh of relief. But before he could study the panel, new lines emerged:

[At age one, you were poisoned with Gluttony Pill during the grab ceremony, leading you to choose only a chicken drumstick. Laughed at by all and dubbed a “glutton,” you missed your best chance for purification and renewal.

At age three, your foundation assessment was poor; martial pursuits were hopeless. Your mother, Chen Xia, suffered alongside you, and all your allowances were halved.

At age ten, determined to study, you developed a strange illness—falling asleep whenever you read—and were expelled from the academy.

At age twenty, during your coming-of-age ceremony, your fiancée broke off the engagement, disgracing you and leading the Chen family to cast you out.

When struck from the family register, only the word “waste” was recorded.

At age twenty-five, you were publicly insulted by your brother Chen Yuan, leaving you dispirited.

By age thirty, your mother Chen Xia had passed, and you’d known nothing but hardship...]

Chen Yi read the panel’s content and drew a sharp breath.

Is this my life?

Betrayal, disgrace, abandonment—“tragic” was too mild a word.

[Host’s fate aligns with requirements. Reward: Late Bloomer (Talent)]

[Name: Chen Yi]

[Age: 30]

[Cultivation: None]

[Talent: Late Bloomer—The older the bone age, the faster the cultivation]

[Revenge Points: 100/100]

This “Late Bloomer” talent seems useless for now, he mused. After all, at my current age... Thirty?!

He glanced at the panel, then at his chubby baby arms and legs, mouth agape.

Did you make a mistake, system?

I’m only one year old—just one!

The panel ignored him completely.

[Consuming revenge points. Issuing counterattack quest: “Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west—never look down on the poor middle-aged!” Host must return to the Marquis of Wu’an’s estate, defeat Chen Yuan, and avenge the humiliation of the past! Reward: Sword Dao Initiation.]

[Note: Since Chen Yuan’s strength is already at the sixth-rank Guiyuan Realm, the host is given one year to complete the quest. Failure or overdue completion will result in an even more miserable life!]

Seeing this, Chen Yi stared blankly for a moment, then couldn’t help but babble out:

“Damn!”

“This lousy system has arrived far too early!”

“I’m only one year old—what use is a Late Bloomer talent now?”

“You want me to defeat Chen Yuan at the Guiyuan Realm? With what—my head?!”