Rayan farid considered himself a patient man. He had survived filler arcs, endured badly drawn panels, and even swallowed cultivation novels with thirty chapters of pill refining that went nowhere. But tonight… tonight was the final straw.
He slammed his phone on the bed. "Another drop? Seriously? The story was just getting good!" He rolled around, his blanket tangled like a mortal struggling in the grasp of heavenly tribulation. "Why does every manhua I read end at the best part?!"
His eyes burned from binge-reading all night. The glowing screen mocked him like a sly demon. Eventually, exhaustion struck harder than any heavenly lightning, and Rayan farid drifted into sleep, still mumbling about authors betraying him.
When he opened his eyes again, something felt… wrong.
The bed was gone. The room was gone. In fact, everything was gone—except for a stone floor, misty mountains in the distance, and the faint smell of incense. It looked like one of those old antique cultivation manhua settings, complete with bamboo forests and dramatic atmosphere.
At first, Rayan farid rubbed his eyes. "Okay… maybe I'm dreaming. Happens all the time. Next thing you know, a fairy beauty with ice powers will trip and fall into my arms. Classic trope."
He reached up to scratch his head, and froze. His hand touched hair. Long, silky, flowing hair.
"…Wait. My hair was short yesterday. Now I look like I belong in a shampoo commercial?" He pulled at it, half-expecting a wig. It wasn't. It hurt.
For a moment he stood there, staring at his new long locks. Then he muttered, "Alright, definitely a dream. Or maybe my mom hired a really enthusiastic barber while I slept."
With no better plan,Rayan farid shrugged and walked forward, as if exploring the set of some low-budget historical drama. Birds chirped too peacefully, the mountains looked too mysterious, and the whole place screamed: Danger! Protagonists only!
"Great," he sighed. "Dropped manhua left me frustrated, so my brain said, 'Here, have an isekai.' Thanks a lot, brain."
Ahhh let's see this place
As Rayan farid wandered through the misty mountains, he muttered to himself, trying to piece things together. For some reason, his mind drifted back to his past life.
He wasn't always some confused man with suspiciously long hair. No, in his old world, he was actually a rich kid. A mansion to live in, servants running around, and more luxury than he ever asked for. But money didn't buy him happiness—because his parents, despite all their wealth, couldn't even live under the same roof.
They divorced when he was still young. His father became busy with business, his mother buried herself in social events, and Rayan farid was left with freedom, boredom, and way too much Wi-Fi.
Sometimes they would surprise him, showing up at his mansion to "check on him." His mother with tearful hugs, his father with cold lectures. Rayan farid of course, would just roll his eyes and continue reading manhua under the dinner table.
"Rich young master life…" he sighed now, looking at the bamboo forest around him. "And yet, here I am, standing in some ancient knock-off version of China with no Wi-Fi, no AC, and worst of all—no manhua updates."
He ran his fingers through his long hair again. The pain, the smells, the solid ground beneath his feet—it was all too real.
"Wait a second…" he whispered. "If my past life really ended when I fell asleep… then this isn't a dreams right?
As Rayan farid tried to make sense of his situation, his steps took him into an old wooden room that looked like it belonged in some ancient drama set. He opened the creaky door, expecting at least a bed or a table.
Nothing.
The room was empty. Completely, utterly empty.
He scratched his head. "Wow… even my dream mansion is broke. Figures."
Frustrated, he ran out the other side, only to crash headfirst into a tree. Stars danced before his eyes, and before he knew it, he collapsed on the ground.
In the hazy blur of unconsciousness, his memories came flooding back.
I am the rich kid, his inner voice echoed. The one with all the money… but a boring life.
Cars, games, clothes—he had everything. And yet, nothing impressed him. Privilege was a cage that glittered but still felt empty.
At first, he thought maybe following his father's strict teachings would give meaning. He studied hard, acted proper, tried to earn recognition. All he got in return were polite claps, fake smiles, and endless people guiding him toward promotions he didn't want.
Being the only child of divorced parents didn't help. His father cared more about business, his mother cared more about appearances, and Liang Chen was stuck in the middle.
But there was one thing that gave him real joy.
Stories.
Not the fake smiles of businessmen, but the colorful worlds inside manhua and manhwa. Cultivation novels with endless realms, mighty sects, and legendary heroes. Comics with stunning art and twists that left him breathless.
Life was amazing when he had a new story to binge, safe in his giant mansion, locked away like a true introvert. Reading and gaming became his real home.
But then the curse struck.
One by one, the best manhua he loved were dropped. Stories he invested in for hundreds of chapters ended mid-battle, mid-romance, mid-everything. Some new ones came, but most weren't as good.
Life dulled. The mansion felt like a prison again. Reading until night became his escape, until he finally passed out.
And now…
Here I am, in this strange dream. Surely, I'll wake up soon. Right?
As suddenly,
A sleek, black-and-gold screen appeared before his eyes. Not blurry, not fake—sharp, glowing, and almost alive, like a hologram straight out of a futuristic game.
[Chaos Emperor System Activated]
Welcome, Host. Prepare to ascend beyond mortals.
Rayan's eyes went wide. "Oh… ohhh… this isn't some cheap PowerPoint! This is premium gaming HUD quality!"
His hands trembled as he reached out, and the screen rippled like water under his touch. The letters rearranged smoothly, the menu icons glowing with dark energy.
He slapped his cheeks. "Ouch! Still hurts. So this isn't fake? Wait wait wait—my dream comes with the Chaos Emperor System? Hahaha, amazing! I'm officially the main character now!"
Then he noticed the language. English.
The corner of his mouth twitched. "Seriously? Even my cheat comes with English subtitles?"
He read the glowing letters carefully, then puffed out his chest. "Heh, no problem. I was topper in school. English and maths were my favorite subjects! Why should I fear? Even in dreams, I'm the king of grammar exams!"
The system responded instantly.
Ding!
First Mission: Beginner's Step.
Pick up a stick. Weapon type: ???
Reward: +1 Strength.
Rayan stared. Then he burst out laughing. "Pffft—what is this? Chaos Emperor System? More like Chaos Kindergarten System! A stick? Seriously?"
Still, he bent down, picked up the nearest stick, and held it like a legendary sword. "Fine, fine. Every emperor starts somewhere. Today… a stick. Tomorrow… the multiverse."
The system glowed faintly, as if amused by his antics.
Liang Chen raised the stick high, striking a heroic pose. "Behold! The Stick of Destiny! With this, I shall—"
"Dad!"
The voice startled him so much that he nearly stabbed himself with his 'legendary weapon.' He turned, and there stood a small boy, maybe seven or eight, with bright eyes and shabby sect robes.
Rayan blinked. "Uh… kid, wrong person. I'm not your dad. I'm just a handsome passerby holding a stick."
The boy tilted his head, completely serious. "But Dad, what are you doing? Mother is calling you… and the sect elders too. They looked angry."
Rayan froze. "…Mother? Elders? Angry? Wait wait wait—back up. When did I unlock the 'dad route'? I don't remember downloading the Parenting DLC!"
The boy tugged his sleeve impatiently. "Hurry! If we're late again, Elder Fang will punish you!"
Rayan glanced at the glowing system window. "System, explain. Why is there a child calling me father?"
The system didn't reply. The screen just flickered with one line:
Parent Quest Unlocked: Pretend to be a Responsible Father.
Failure Condition: Sect Elders discover your nonsense.
Rayan's jaw dropped. "WHAT?! You gave me a stick five minutes ago, and now you're giving me a son? What kind of speedrun is this?!"
The boy kept tugging his robe. "Come on, Dad! Stop playing with a stick like a crazy person!"
Rayan sighed dramatically. "Ah yes, I was born rich in my past life, but even then I couldn't escape responsibility… and now in my new life, I can't escape fatherhood either."
He patted the kid's head. "Fine, son. Lead the way. Let's go meet your so-called mother and angry sect elders… though spoiler alert, I have no idea who they are."
The kid beamed and ran ahead, while Rayan muttered under his breath, "Please let the mother be pretty… please let the mother be pretty…"