Qin Yuan

Within the Inner Sect main hall of Xuan Yuan Sect's Third Peak, the floor was paved with green jade, and nine ever-burning glazed lamps hung high from the vaulted ceiling, their halos flowing like living water.

Qin Yuan stood outside the hall doors. Only after taking a deep breath did he step inside.

He wore a faded gray robe of a Labor Disciple, its cuffs frayed with wear, utterly out of place among the disciples passing through the hall in blue Inner Sect robes embroidered with Flowing Cloud Patterns.

For ten years, he had carried Mysterious Iron Ore in the Seventh Mining Area. His spine had been bent beneath the weight, then straightened again. At last, he had accumulated enough merit to transfer into the Inner Sect.

Behind the duty desk sat a young man in his early twenties, with sword-like brows and starry eyes. Three silver lines were embroidered on the sleeves of his blue robe—the mark of an elite Inner Sect disciple.

Qin Yuan recognized him. Liu Feng, an Inner Sect disciple under the Third Peak's Enforcement Elder, with cultivation at the third level of Foundation Establishment.

"Disciple Qin Yuan has completed ten years as a Labor Disciple and has come to process his transfer into the Inner Sect." Qin Yuan's voice remained steady as he held out the Ebony Seal with both hands. Ten years of blood and sweat had condensed into that small wooden token.

Liu Feng did not take it. Leaning back in his chair, he slowly polished the scabbard of a short sword in his hand, the silver threads on his sleeve gleaming coldly beneath the glazed lamplight.

Three breaths of silence passed.

Qin Yuan did not move. His back remained ramrod straight.

"Tut." Liu Feng finally raised his eyes, sweeping his gaze over Qin Yuan as though looking at a stone by the roadside.

He reached out with two fingers, pinched up the Ebony Seal, and let a thread of Spiritual Energy spill from his fingertips.

Clack.

The seal fell onto the green jade floor with a crisp sound. It rolled three times before stopping by Qin Yuan's feet, one corner chipped white.

Several Inner Sect disciples handling affairs in the hall paused and looked over. Someone let out a low snicker.

Qin Yuan's fingers curled, then slowly relaxed. He bent down, picked up the seal, brushed away dust that did not exist, and looked directly at Liu Feng. "Senior Brother, what is the meaning of this?"

"What is the meaning?" Liu Feng laughed, sheathing his short sword with a clang. "Qin Yuan, right? I checked your records. You entered the sect at sixteen, spent ten years as a Labor Disciple, reached the third level of Qi Condensation, and possess a Five Elements Mixed Spiritual Root—the lowest-grade aptitude."

He rose to his feet and looked down at him. "Do you know the minimum requirement for entering the Third Peak's Inner Sect? A Single Spiritual Root, and Level 6 Qi Condensation before the age of twenty.

"And you? You're twenty-six and still spinning in circles at the third level of Qi Condensation. The merit recorded on that seal was earned by carrying Mysterious Iron Ore for ten years, wasn't it?"

"According to sect rules, a Labor Disciple who completes ten years without fault may apply to enter the Outer Sect." Qin Yuan spoke each word clearly. "Those with outstanding contributions may enter the Inner Sect as an exception after assessment. I discovered three new mineral veins in the Seventh Mining Area. They are recorded in the merit register."

"Rules?" Liu Feng leaned forward, bracing a hand against the desk. He lowered his voice, yet every word stabbed over like an ice awl. "Rules are made for those with talent. What did you think the Inner Sect was? A garbage dump?"

He straightened, flicking his sleeve. "Third Peak has no shortage of laborers who carry ore. Take your worthless little token and crawl back to the Outer Sect, or keep going down the mines—that is where you belong."

Qin Yuan's nails dug into his palms. Ten years in the dark mine tunnels; water dripping from the rock walls had echoed beside his ears through more than three thousand days and nights. Those promises—that after ten years, even those lacking aptitude could enter the Inner Sect through merit—turned out to be nothing more than nonsense written on paper.

"Senior Brother," his voice was dry, "I acted according to sect regulations—"

"Rules are dead. People are alive." Liu Feng cut him off, his smile filled with undisguised contempt. "Do you understand? You are not worthy. Now, get out."

As the final word fell, a surge of spiritual power erupted from Liu Feng's sleeve.

Qin Yuan felt as though a heavy hammer had struck his chest. His entire body flew backward, smashing through the hall doors and tumbling down seven or eight greenstone steps before stopping.

A sweetness rose in his throat, and bloody froth spilled from the corner of his mouth. Level 3 Qi Condensation against the third level of Foundation Establishment—he had not even the slightest chance to resist.

Laughter rang out from within the hall.

"Senior Brother Liu was still too soft-hearted. A piece of trash that wastes spirit rice like this should have his cultivation crippled and be thrown down the mountain."

"My spirit hound cultivates faster than someone who took ten years to reach the third level of Qi Condensation."

Qin Yuan pushed himself up and wiped the blood from his lips. He cast one last look at Liu Feng's back inside the hall. Liu Feng had already returned to his chair and resumed polishing his sword scabbard, as though he had merely brushed away a speck of dust.

There was no furious roar, no pointless argument. Qin Yuan picked up the Ebony Seal that had rolled away again, clenched it tight, and turned to walk down Third Peak's stone steps.

One step at a time.

The edges of the wooden token bit into his flesh.

One day...

The Outer Sect disciples' residences lay on the far western side of Xuan Yuan Sect, where a cluster of low wooden huts was crammed into a mountain hollow.

Qin Yuan's hut stood at the very end. Wind leaked through the wall planks, and three holes had torn through the window paper, carelessly patched with oilcloth brought back from the mining area.

When he pushed open the door, the smell of mildew mixed with dust rushed into his face.

A hard plank bed, a lame wooden table, and a spare gray Labor Disciple robe hanging on the wall.

That was everything he owned.

Qin Yuan sat on the bed and crossed his legs to regulate his breathing. Liu Feng had not used his full strength; it had been more of a humiliating expulsion. But even a trace of Spiritual Energy from a Foundation Establishment cultivator was enough to injure the meridians of someone in the Qi Refining Stage.

Spiritual Energy moved through his body with difficulty, bringing fine, piercing pain wherever it passed.

Half an hour later, he exhaled a breath of turbid air. He had barely suppressed the injury, though his face remained pale.

Outside the window, the sky darkened, and the setting sun splashed across the western mountaintops like blood.

Qin Yuan watched that last glimmer of light. The fire in his chest began to burn bit by bit, until even his bones seemed to grow scorching hot.

When he had first transmigrated here and entered the sect at sixteen, he too had carried dreams of immortality, believing diligence could make up for clumsiness.

But reality was that a Five Elements Mixed Spiritual Root absorbed Spiritual Energy at only one-fifth the speed of a Single Spiritual Root. After ten years of bitter cultivation, he had broken through to the third level of Qi Condensation three years ago and had not advanced an inch since.

Foundation Establishment? A lifespan of three hundred years, sword flight through the azure heavens, supernatural abilities beginning to emerge? Those were steps laid out for geniuses.

For someone of his aptitude, Level 6 Qi Condensation was already the ceiling. He would spend his entire life doing menial work in the Outer Sect. Perhaps after forty, he could scrape together the position of a low-ranking steward and manage new Labor Disciples entering the sect—this was the entirety of the future he could see.

"Why?" he asked softly, asking the empty room, asking the wind leaking in through the cracks.

There was no answer.

Only the flame deep within him burned ever fiercer, scorching into a wasteland of rage. Then, after that rage burned itself out, cold helplessness was laid bare beneath it.

He closed his eyes.

Just then—

[Detected the host's intense unwillingness to accept defeat and will to survive.]

[Conditions met. Binding system...]

An emotionless mechanical voice suddenly rang out in the depths of his mind.

Qin Yuan's eyes snapped open.

Nothing in the room had changed: the broken window, the old table, the drafty walls.

Yet a translucent light screen appeared out of thin air before his eyes. It was pale blue, with faint streams of data flowing along its edges.

[Ten Years Cultivation Per Day System has been bound.]

[Host: Qin Yuan]

[Age: Twenty-six]

[Cultivation: Level 3 Qi Condensation (Injured)]

[Spiritual Root: Five Elements Mixed Spiritual Root (Lowest of the Low)]

[System rule: Every day, the system will automatically grant the host cultivation accumulation equivalent to ten years of bitter cultivation, ignoring bottlenecks, aptitude restrictions, and inner demon tribulations. Note: The host must actively circulate a cultivation technique to guide and convert the cultivation increase.]

[Current cultivation available for extraction: 0 years (Refreshes daily at midnight)]

Qin Yuan stared at the lines of text, his breathing gradually quickening.

A hallucination? An inner demon? Or had he finally gone mad after spending too long in the mine tunnels?

He bit down hard on his tongue, and the taste of rust spread through his mouth. The pain was clear, yet the light screen did not vanish.

It was not a dream.

"One day... ten years?" His voice trembled. "Ignoring bottlenecks? Ignoring aptitude?"

The screen flickered, and new words appeared:

[Correct understanding. Based on the rules of the world in which the host resides, the system will generate cultivation accumulation each day equivalent to ten years of the host's bitter cultivation at the host's current aptitude. The host must actively circulate a cultivation technique to convert this accumulation into an actual increase in realm. There are no side effects.]

Qin Yuan's fingers began to tremble.

Ten years. He had fought desperately, struggling in mine tunnels without sunlight for a full ten years, just to reach the third level of Qi Condensation.

And this system would give him the accumulation of ten years of bitter cultivation in a single day!

If it was real...

If it was real!

He abruptly sprang from the bed, paced twice around the cramped room, then forced himself to sit back down.

He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again. The wild light in his gaze had been forcibly pressed into the stillness of a cold pond.

Try it.

He had to try it.

He crossed his legs again, placed his hands in the five-heart posture, and circulated the Qi Guiding Art required of Xuan Yuan Sect's Outer Sect disciples. It was the most basic cultivation technique—crude and inefficient—but it was the only one he knew.

Spiritual Energy slowly gathered and traveled through his meridians, as sluggish as always—a Five Elements Mixed Spiritual Root was like a bucket without a bottom. Of ten portions of Spiritual Energy drawn in, only two could be retained.

But in the next instant, a sudden change occurred.

A scorching torrent erupted from his lower dantian without warning! It was not Spiritual Energy absorbed from the outside world, but something generated from nothing—pure, vast, and surging into his meridians like a river bursting through a broken dam!

Qin Yuan's entire body shook violently, and he nearly fell out of meditation. He clenched his teeth and desperately circulated the Qi Guiding Art, guiding that torrent as it raced along the technique's pathways.

Boom—!

It felt as though a barrier had shattered beside his ears.

Level 4 Qi Condensation—breakthrough!

The torrent did not stop. It continued to wash through him. His meridians expanded, spiritual power surged wildly, and the once-obscure checkpoints burst open at a single rush.

Level 5 Qi Condensation—breakthrough!

It was still not enough. That power continued to surge, as though it would never end. Qin Yuan's body began to heat up, and fine impurities seeped from his skin—Marrow Cleansing brought on by his explosive increase in cultivation.

Level 6 Qi Condensation!

Like splitting bamboo!