Su Yu raised his hand, and a flash of light flickered in his palm.
A jade slip radiating an ancient golden aura appeared in his hand.
Top-tier Earth-grade internal cultivation method — the Taixu Sourceblood Art.
Unbidden, Su Yu's mind flashed back to the top floor of the Jingwu Library, where Vice Principal Nie Changkong's stern, almost warning face had stared him down.
“This internal method is exceptionally tyrannical!”
“In the past thirty years, seven peerless geniuses at Jingwu forcibly cultivated it—five shattered their meridians, and two exploded on the spot!”
“One misstep, and your qi and blood will reverse, killing you beyond salvation!”
Recalling those words, a faint smile tugged at the corner of Su Yu's mouth.
Tyrannical?
Exploding?
Shattered meridians?
Su Yu glanced at the golden jade slip in his hand and let out a light chuckle.
“That's because they were too short on time.”
On the path of martial arts, one fights heaven for every extra breath.
Those so-called peerless geniuses tried to forcibly tame a top-tier Earth-grade tyrannical method in just a few years, or even a few months.
They wanted to force a qualitative leap in their qi and blood in the shortest possible span.
That was like trying to cram a raging river into a fragile water pipe.
Of course it was dangerous.
But.
He was different.
Time was the one thing he never lacked.
“System,” Su Yu called out silently in his mind.
“Top up.”
“Ten million!”
Buzz—!
The moment his command was issued,
the mountain of red banknotes stacked around him, taking up half the living room, seemed to be erased by some invisible force.
A full ten million Dragon Coins in cash—gone, evaporated into thin air!
It dissolved into specks of light, fading into the atmosphere.
Not even a trace of ash remained.
Then, that familiar, cold, yet infinitely reassuring mechanical voice rang out in Su Yu's mind right on schedule.
[Ding!]
[Top-up successful.]
[Ten million Dragon Coins deducted. Converted into ten million years of cultivation.]
Ten million years!
That was a span of time so vast that any martial arts expert would feel despair—so immense they couldn't even comprehend the concept.
How long had human history been?
How long had the martial era even lasted?
Yet Su Yu was now holding ten million years of time in his grasp.
“Inject all ten million years of cultivation…“
”into the Taixu Sourceblood Art!”
Without a moment's hesitation, Su Yu issued the command.
Crack!
The golden jade slip in his hand instantly covered itself in cracks.
Then it transformed into a brilliant golden stream of light and shot directly into his brow!
Boom!
Su Yu felt a thunderous vibration deep in his brain.
The very next second,
his consciousness was yanked out of the real world by an irresistible force,
plunging into an endless, absolutely still, pitch-black void.
The System's simulation space.
Here, time stretched infinitely.
Here, he would spend ten million long years.
In the void,
Su Yu sat cross-legged.
The mysteries of the Taixu Sourceblood Art detonated in his mind like a vast ocean of stars.
Countless obscure scriptures, cultivation pathways, and qi-blood circulation techniques were forcibly branded into the depths of his memory by the System.
The core of this technique boiled down to four words—
Plunder!
Compress!
It demanded the cultivator forge a whirlpool of qi and blood called "Taixu" deep within their dantian.
This whirlpool was like a miniature black hole.
It would ruthlessly devour every bit of qi and blood in the body—crushing, refining, then re-condensing it!
To finish that process—
wait, that line got cut in the OCR. Let me continue from the original flow.
It would ruthlessly devour all the qi and blood in the body, grinding it down, purifying it, and restructuring it!
During this process, qi and blood would surge through the meridians like boiling magma, colliding violently with every pulse.
Each full circulation cycle was a brutal tear at the limits of both flesh and willpower.
No wonder Nie Changkong said this technique would make people explode.
This method of cultivation was practically suicide!
But.
When the System stretched this technique across a timeline of ten million years to simulate it—
everything changed.
Year one.
Only the faintest seed of a "Taixu" whirlpool formed in Su Yu's dantian.
Qi and blood began to be drawn in.
The agony that should have violently shredded his meridians, slowed by the infinite dilation of time,
reduced to a barely perceptible warmth.
Year one hundred and one.
Qi and blood completed their first full major cycle through the meridians.
No tearing.
No explosion.
Only a comfort like soaking in a hot spring, spreading through every limb and bone.
“This feeling…” Su Yu, seated in the void, was so relaxed he almost moaned aloud.
“Absolutely blissful.”
The hellish torment those peerless geniuses experienced? In Su Yu's case, it turned into a ten-million-year, top-tier spa session.
Year ten thousand.
The "Taixu" whirlpool fully took shape.
Su Yu's natural talent began to pay off.
One year, raise qi and blood by 0.1 points.
Ten thousand years—that's a thousand points!
His qi and blood climbed steadily from one thousand points to two thousand.
Year one million.
Qi and blood broke past the hundred-thousand mark!
One hundred thousand qi and blood! That's the threshold of a Grand Master!
Out in the outside world, countless martial artists could spend their entire lives and never cross that chasm.
But Su Yu? He just took a comfortable nap in the void.
His qi and blood surged onward like a breached dam.
Year five million.
Qi and blood hit five hundred thousand!
The Taixu Sourceblood Art had been simulated to an extremely profound level.
Su Yu's body, washed day after day, year after year by the flow of qi and blood, began a qualitative transformation.
His bones gradually took on a faint, dark golden sheen.
His muscle fibers became a hundred times tougher than high-grade alloy.
Each heartbeat pounded like a war drum, sending visible ripples through the void.
Year ten million!
Boom—!!!
A colossal, world-splitting roar erupted in the void!
Su Yu snapped his eyes open.
From his deep pupils, two beams of tangible, golden divine light shot forth, tearing straight through the darkness before him!
Ten million years of simulation—finished.
Whoosh.
Consciousness returned to reality.
Inside the ultra-luxury penthouse apartment,
Su Yu still sat cross-legged in that mountain of cash.
In the real world, only one second had passed.
But inside Su Yu, something terrifying had fundamentally changed!
“Hah…”
Su Yu slowly exhaled a stale breath.
That breath, like a white blade, pierced straight through the leather sofa backrest two meters in front of him!
He lowered his head, feeling that vast, ocean-like, terrifying power inside him that felt ready to burst the heavens apart.
Qi and blood: one million points!
0.1 per year.
Ten million years—a full one million points of qi and blood!
What did that mean?
Breaking ten thousand was a Master.
Breaking one hundred thousand was a Grand Master.
And breaking one million—
That was a Martial Spirit!
A Martial Spirit-level powerhouse—someone capable of suppressing an entire region and serving as a legion commander on the outer battlefield!
An eighteen-year-old freshman,
in the span of a single second,
had jumped straight from early Martial Master across two entire major realms—Master and Grand Master—
and bulldozed his way to the Martial Spirit realm!
If Nie Changkong found out, he would probably have a heart attack on the spot.
But.
This wasn't the end.
With a flip of his wrist,
Su Yu took a delicate jade bottle from the storage space of his tactical terminal.
It was the seventh-grade spiritual medicine granted to him by Nie Changkong—Marrow Nourishing Blood Essence.
It was said to contain an extremely vast and violent energy — even a single lick would cause an ordinary martial artist to bleed from all seven orifices.
Su Yu pulled out the cork.
Without any hesitation,
he tilted his head back and drank the entire bottle of Blood Marrow Essence in one go!
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
ing gift was a patch of barren land, and disciples were all picked up along the way. He spent fifty years diligently building three "ramshackle little sects," thinking he could finally live a carefree life relying on his disciples. But right at the fifty-year mark, he was suddenly swept away by a spatial rift and exiled to the Chaos Desolation, the Disorderly Ruins. There was no spiritual energy there, only slaughter. Relying on the cultivation feedback from his disciples, Gu Changyuan hacked his way through a sea of blood for eleven hundred years. When the system finally fished him back out, he discovered the ramshackle little sects he'd built back then had developed a rather... unusual style. Hold on... I vanished for a thousand years, so how did my ramshackle little sects become holy lands?!
for mindless slaughter, this isn't for you.] My name is Ye Shu, and I'm a transmigrator. It seems I'm supposed to be the protagonist, but that feels pretty unlikely. This world has been invaded by a system. The antagonists on the other side have suddenly become pure, flawless saints. The female leads have been force-fed the so-called "original plot," making them think they've been reborn. Now, everyone thinks I'm scum. Including the old lady in my ring. And here I am, in the Monster Beast Mountain Range, braising pork. To put my situation in perspective— It's as if, the moment Xiao Yan stepped into the Monster Beast Mountain Range, the Soul Emperor already knew he would become the Flame Emperor, and Yao Lao had been turned to the enemy's side. I have nothing right now. Oh wait, that's not true. I do have a white-haired loli child-bride who's the Heavenly Dao, and her only skill is acting cute. So, tell me guys... what are my chances of making it to the end?
end. Thus one must continue to cultivate, and become a saint or great emperor, in order to prolong one's life. Chen Xia, however, completely reversed this. Since his transmigration, he has gained immortality, and also a system that awards him with attribute points for every year he lives. Thus between the myriad worlds, the legend of an unparalleled senior appeared. "A gentleman takes revenge; it is never too late even after ten thousand years." "When you were at your peak I yielded, now in your old age I shall trample on you." - Chen Xia
