**Ye Xuan** was the type of man you wouldn’t spare a second glance at.
Not particularly rich, not particularly poor. Not exceptionally talented, but not a failure either. He lived his life quietly, always staying in the background—except when it came to **Su Mengyao**, the school flower.
She was elegant, dazzling, and untouchable—the kind of girl **men dreamed of** but never had a chance with. Ye Xuan knew it too—he never expected anything from her. But still, she kept him close. Whenever she needed help with studies, she would call him. When she was feeling down, she would chat with him late into the night.
She **never accepted him**—but she never **pushed him away either.
He wasn’t her boyfriend. But he wasn’t just a friend, either.
Then one day, reality crushed him.
At a private banquet for the elites, he stood in the crowd, watching as Su Mengyao **wrapped her arms around another man’s arm—Lin Tianyi**, the young master of the Lin family. His family was wealthy beyond imagination, with connections that stretched across the entire city.
As the champagne flowed and laughter echoed, Su Mengyao leaned close to Lin Tianyi and whispered something in his ear. Then, as if remembering something amusing, she let out a soft chuckle.
Ye Xuan’s phone buzzed.
A message from **her**.
**“Ye Xuan, thank you for always being there for me. You’re a really good guy. I hope we can still be friends.
At that moment, he finally understood.
He was just a **backup**. A spare. Someone she kept around for **when she was bored or lonely**, while she waited for a man with real power to claim her.
That night, as the banquet raged on, Ye Xuan walked through the dark alleys of the city, his mind numb. It wasn’t just **Su Mengyao**—his job applications had been rejected, his landlord had kicked him out, and his so-called friends had stopped replying to his messages.
With nothing left, he collapsed near a **street corner**, waiting for the night to swallow him whole.
That was when **he met him**.
A beggar sat against the wall, grinning at him with dark, hollow eyes. His presence felt ancient—**inhuman**.
**“What a pitiful sight,”** the beggar chuckled. **“Thrown away, forgotten, left to rot. Do you want another chance, boy?”**
Ye Xuan barely had the strength to lift his head. **"A chance for what?”**
The beggar leaned in, his grin widening. **“A chance to take back everything. A chance to rise higher than all of them. But power has a price, boy. Are you willing to pay?”**
Ye Xuan’s fingers curled into a fist. **“What do I need to do?”**
The beggar whispered in his ear, and at that moment—**his fate was sealed.**
**He could trade his lifespan to summon spirits of the dead. For every year sacrificed, he could call upon warriors, emperors, assassins, and geniuses long forgotten by time—and take their skills for himself.
**But the more he used this power, the closer he stepped toward death.**
With nothing left to lose, Ye Xuan made his first trade.
