What could not be forced could not be forced, nor could it be demanded. Once one's cultivation had reached the necessary point, it was like pushing a boat downstream—what existed, existed; what did not, did not.
And now, Ye Xiwen had reached the critical point of breakthrough. Countless laws before his eyes were being analyzed and put to his use, bit by bit increasing his reserves.
For Celestial Venerables, cultivation placed accumulation above all else. Someone like Ye Xiwen, whose cultivation had advanced by leaps and bounds and pressed forward with indomitable force, was practically an anomaly, impossible to measure by ordinary standards.
Even among Emperor Lords, his rate of progress had already been unimaginably fast, let alone among Celestial Venerables. Fortunately, he had the Mysterious Space to assist him, and he was willing to use resources and wealth to make up for his lack of cultivation time. Only then had he been able to fill so many gaps.
Yet this also meant that his accumulation had never been particularly deep. Whenever he gained something, it was often exhausted clean in a short time. There was no helping that. Fortunately, the Eleven Provinces were no longer merely a place that required Ye Xiwen's constant investment; they had begun producing returns. As time passed, those returns would only grow, until one day, even if Ye Xiwen encountered no further fortuitous opportunities, the supplies from below alone would be enough to sustain his cultivation.
This was also the greatest interest at stake in the competition between Celestial Venerables. If not for this, they likely would not be willing to tear their faces apart and fight to the death.
But Celestial Venerable cultivation consumed far too many resources. If others had a little more, then one would have a little less. This was