No Money, What Immortal Cultivation?

"Skip the first level cultivation process of the Origin Heaven Art!"

With a command from Ye Xingchen in his mind, the remaining fifteen hundred Source Points instantly dwindled to five hundred.

Boom—!

This time, it was no longer the tearing pain of his flesh.

Ye Xingchen felt as though his skull had been smashed apart by a colossal hammer. Immediately after, an indescribably vast torrent of information, carrying an ancient, desolate chill, exploded deep within his sea of consciousness.

That was not spiritual power. It was law.

It was the breathing of mountains and earth veins, the paths traced by the stars, the whispers buried deep beneath the soil.

His originally chaotic sea of consciousness was forcibly stretched open.

Pain!

His soul felt as though it were being ground over and over beneath a millstone, then pulled into countless strands and forcibly fused into heaven and earth.

If not for the system's protection, any ordinary cultivator who dared fuse with the laws of the Origin Heaven Art so violently would likely turn into an idiot in an instant—or die with their brains splattering.

"Ugh..."

Ye Xingchen gritted his teeth, his eyes wide open. The black in his pupils rapidly receded, replaced by an eerie yet sacred violet-gold hue.

Buzz!

An invisible ripple spread outward in mad rings from Ye Xingchen's small courtyard.

That was divine sense.

And it was divine sense that had undergone a qualitative transformation, carrying the domineering attribute of "Origin Heaven"!

This divine sense ignored the walls, ignored the formations' barriers, and swept across the entire North Hall outer sect as though entering an uninhabited realm.

Ye Xingchen "saw" it.

He saw the disciple in the neighboring courtyard who had mocked him making faces at a mirror, attempting to practice some kind of seductive spell;

He saw a pair of wild lovebirds in the woods a hundred meters away fiercely "sparring" in the grass, spiritual energy surging within them;

He saw, three zhang underground, a fat pangolin demon beast hugging a chunk of Spirit Stone residue and gnawing on it with great relish.

But that was still not enough.

His divine sense was like a wild horse breaking free of the reins, continuing to expand outward.

It crossed the outer sect, shot into the clouds, and crashed straight toward the inner sect forbidden grounds shrouded in mist.

Deep within the First Saint Sect, atop a Lone Peak covered in snow year-round.

Within the heart of Lone Peak, inside a dust-covered stone chamber, an emaciated old man sat cross-legged. His Daoist robe had long since decayed, and his skin was shriveled like bark, as though he had been dead for a hundred years.

At the very instant Ye Xingchen's divine sense swept over Lone Peak.

Whoosh!

The old man's eyelids, shut for a century, abruptly flew open.

What kind of eyes were those? Amid their cloudiness glinted a sharp light that seemed capable of piercing through the years.

"This aura... the Origin Heaven Divine Perception?!"

"In this world... there is actually someone who still dares cultivate such a forbidden art?..."

The old man wanted to trace that divine sense back to its source, but it had come swiftly and vanished just as swiftly, disappearing without a trace in an instant.

"Strange... how strange..."

Inside the outer sect courtyard.

All the strange phenomena withdrew in an instant.

Ye Xingchen panted heavily, his entire body already drenched in cold sweat, as if he had been fished out of water.

But he had no time to wipe away the sweat. He suddenly raised his head and looked out the window.

The world had changed.

In his eyes, the once utterly ordinary courtyard was now filled with dazzling colors.

The spiritual energy drifting through the air was no longer invisible. It had turned into multicolored specks of light that floated slowly through the air.

He looked down at his hands.

Beneath his skin, what flowed through his veins was no longer bright red blood, but rushing torrents of spiritual power; his bones were crystal-clear, radiating a jade-like sheen.

His gaze pierced through the walls, through the soil.

As long as he wished it, there were no secrets within five li.

[Ding!]

[The first level cultivation process of the Origin Heaven Art has been skipped.]

[Current progress: Current cultivation technique progress: 10%.]

[Congratulations, Host. You have awakened the active skill: Origin Heaven Divine Perception]

[Origin Heaven Divine Perception: Can see through falsehood and peer through ordinary objects, sense the convergence nodes of heaven-and-earth spiritual energy, and detect all energy fluctuations within five li.]

"Whew..."

Ye Xingchen slowly exhaled a foul breath, the corners of his mouth rising wildly despite himself.

"X-ray vision? Radar? An energy detector?"

"How is this an immortal cultivation technique? This is clearly map-hacking!"

With these eyes, exploring ruins, gambling on stones, appraising treasures—wouldn't all of it be like picking up money in his own backyard?

"However..."

Ye Xingchen frowned slightly. "Why is the progress only 10%?"

He had spent a thousand Source Points, the equivalent of a huge sum of a thousand Low-Grade Spirit Stones, yet it had only advanced by one-tenth?

This was burning money far too fast!

"System, continue skipping!"

[Ding! Warning!]

[Host's current Source Point balance: 500.]

[Unable to execute skip command.]

The smile on Ye Xingchen's face instantly froze.

Insufficient... balance?

"System, estimate how many Source Points are still needed to skip the cultivation of the second level of the Origin Heaven Art?" Ye Xingchen asked unwillingly.

[Calculating...]

[Estimated consumption: 30000 Source Points.]

"How much?!"

Ye Xingchen nearly sprang up from his meditation cushion, his voice cracking. "Thirty thousand?! Are you robbing me?!"

Thirty thousand Source Points.

An outer sect disciple's monthly stipend was ten Low-Grade Spirit Stones, which was ten Source Points.

"In other words, if I neither ate nor drank, I'd have to scrape by in the outer sect for two hundred and fifty years just to gather the toll for the second level?"

Ye Xingchen's mouth twitched. Two hundred and fifty years? By then, the grass on his grave would probably have become a spirit.

[Notice: This system deals fairly with young and old alike. The Origin Heaven Art seizes the creation of heaven and earth and defies fate to change one's destiny. Its price is justified.]

[Since the Host has chosen this path, please work hard to make money.]

[Friendly reminder: No money, what immortal cultivation?]

That final reminder was like an invisible slap, viciously cracking across Ye Xingchen's face.

That really stabbed him in the heart, brother.

Ye Xingchen slumped onto the meditation cushion. Looking at the empty system panel, he suddenly felt the grand ambition of "I am a god" from moments ago had been fed to the dogs.

Immortal cultivation?

Cultivate my ass!

This was a bottomless pit!

"Thirty thousand..."

Ye Xingchen rubbed his temples, his head throbbing painfully.

"No, I can't just sit here and wait for death."

He stood up and brushed the dust from the hem of his robes.

If he wanted to get rich overnight, it was nothing more than increasing income and reducing expenses. Cutting expenses was impossible—impossible in this lifetime—so he could only increase income.

"I'll go to the martial arts arena first, get a feel for the market, and see whether I can pick up any bargains."

North Hall Martial Arts Arena.

This was where outer sect disciples sparred and attended lectures daily. The ground was paved with hard black ironstone, and several stone pillars for testing strength stood around the perimeter.

When Ye Xingchen appeared at the edge of the martial arts arena, the noisy crowd fell into a momentary dead silence.

Like a drop of oil falling into water.

"Look, it's that lunatic who chose the Origin Heaven Art."

"Stay away from him! I heard that anyone who cultivates that technique gets tainted by bad luck, suffers misfortune in their later years, and might even drag down those around them!"

"Shh, don't look into his eyes. Your soul will get sucked away!"

The crowd rapidly parted. With Ye Xingchen as the center, a vacuum zone three zhang wide formed around him. Everyone stared at him as though he were a plague god—or a dead man.

Isolation.

Naked, blatant isolation.

Ye Xingchen felt nothing about it. He even found it a little funny.

If looks could kill, this bunch would have died ten thousand times over in his mind already.

"A bunch of morons."