Xuanyan rubbed his temples, weighing one dilemma after another. What should he prioritise first? Should he invest his system points into purchasing a powerful skill to increase his imdiate combat effectiveness? Or should he focus solely on cultivation, strengthening his foundation before anything else?
He exhaled slowly. No—before anything, he needed to fully understand his own talent.
According to the Novel’s logic, every cultivator was born with an innate cultivation aptitude. That talent determined how efficiently they could absorb, refine, and circulate spiritual energy. Those with higher talent advanced worlds faster than those with low-grade talent even if both used the sa cultivation technique. Talent was the invisible hand that pushed geniuses into the heavens and left diocrities crawling in the mud.
Major breakthroughs, stable foundations, reaching higher realms—everything revolved around one’s innate talent. It acted as the anchor of one’s soul, the seed from which everything else grew. And while talent could be altered, it required absurd treasures or incomprehensible luck.
So, what did he have?
"System, show my talent status."
[Host Aptitude: Grade C (30%)]
[Explanation: Your soul can only absorb, contain, and purify spiritual energy at approximately 30% efficiency.]
Xuanyan stared at the translucent panel. Thirty percent.
"This is... below average," he muttered with a twitching mouth. In a rank-4 cultivation continent where geniuses could casually reach 50% or 60%, he was basically a budget cultivator running on half-charged batteries.
"How many system points do I need to increase my talent rating... and to purify my spiritual container?"
[Host]
— Increasing aptitude by 1% requires 100 system points while in Grade C.
— Purifying your current spiritual container requires 300 system points.
"It’s expensive..." Xuanyan muttered. "My past life’s gacha gas weren’t this cruel."
He took a deep breath. No—this was necessary. If he didn’t fix the spiritual impurities clogging his ridians, he would be stuck at Stage 2 forever.
"System, purify my spiritual container. Use whatever remains to fill with pure spiritual energy until I reach the breaking point for Stage 3."
A warm, gentle current surged into his body—like a soothing dicinal bath poured directly into his soul. His consciousness sharpened. His breath deepened involuntarily. Then, without any pause, he entered cultivation mode.
Ti slipped away.
After what felt like an hour, his eyes snapped open.
His forehead glistened with sweat. His body stank like rotten herbs mixed with mud—a horrifying combination that ca exclusively from expelled impurities.
"So this is all the filth blocking ?" he grimaced, looking down at himself. Sticky black gri clung to his skin like tar.
He shifted his focus inward.
His spiritual container—clean.
His Qi—pure, shimring softly.
His ridians—no longer fragile threads.
At Qi Condensation Realm Stage 3, ridians underwent their first significant transformation:
ridians began stabilizing
—Frailty faded; they thickened in structure.
Qi circulation no longer leaked
—Every cycle beca efficient and complete.
The dantian felt warr, denser
—Able to support a stronger flow.
Breathing techniques beca smoother
—The body no longer resisted the circulation.
The body retained more Qi instead of wasting it
—The first true step into a cultivator’s physique.
His physical strength had visibly increased; even his charm stat rose by five points. A nice bonus, though he wasn’t entirely sure if charm in this world influenced fate or just attracted trouble.
"If I can cultivate three more tis, I might actually break through Stage 4 within a week..." he murmured. The thought alone almost made his heart skip.
He checked his system interface.
Total spent: 420 points.
Remaining point needed for Stage 4: roughly 280 points.
Due to his lower talent, he required less total Qi to break through compared to geniuses—one of the very few benefits of diocrity. The downside, of course, was future potential. But that was a tomorrow problem.
For now... progress was progress.
After a long bath, scrubbing off every bit of foul-slling impurity, Xuanyan finally felt reborn. His strength had nearly doubled. His foundation was firr than ever.
"First breakthrough deserves celebration," he whispered with a faint, satisfied smile.
He straightened his robe, feeling lighter, faster, sharper.
And then he stepped out, heading toward the sect cafeteria.
The morning sun had barely climbed over the mountain peaks when Xuanyan stepped into the sect cafeteria—officially called Silver Bamboo al House
The mont he pushed open the bamboo door, the familiar chaos greeted him—loud voices, clattering bowls, the faint aroma of burnt spiritual herbs, and the eternal background sound of soone arguing about who stole whose stead buns.
"Ah yes," Xuanyan muttered. "Truly the sacred land of cultivation."
He entered with the faint arrogance of soone who had just broken through and wanted to pretend the whole world should notice it.
Spoiler: no one noticed.
His eyes road around cafeteria and finally settled to one individual who was redating a certain powerful and confident Aura
The protagonist.
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