“I’m watching your performance, Sun Yi. If the sect does not flourish by the year’s end, the consequences will be… severe.” Patriarch Qingxuan’s voice was flat, carrying the weight of an ancestral decree.

Elder Qin Chu watched in silence. If the boy burned through the vault’s assets but actually delivered a turnaround, it was a justifiable expense. One year was a short time, but in the cultivation world, it was enough time to die a thousand times over.

To the Elders, the resources Sun Yi had stuffed into his storage bag were negligible—pocket change for Golden Core cultivators. But to the disciples watching from the periphery, seeing their new Sect Leader casually pocket a fortune in front of the Elders was a shock.

Er Gouzi stood by, his face a mask of numbness. The Sun Yi he knew—the timid fellow laborer—was dead. This man was a different species entirely. But the decrees were just, the rewards were generous, so Er Gouzi kept his mouth shut. He was just the attendant; he didn’t need to understand the Sect Leader’s grand Dao.

Sun Yi finished his mental inventory. Elder Qin’s appraisal was helpful, but it was legacy data. To build the radar—the ‘Microwave Detector’—Sun Yi needed specs. He needed physics. He needed the R&D department.

“Elder Qin,” Sun Yi said, clapping his hands. “Proceed with the tokenization. I’m heading to the Scripture Library.”

He turned to the Patriarch. “Chairman, operations are stabilized. I’m going to focus on self-improvement and product development.”

“You’re walking away?” Qingxuan’s eyes widened, his spiritual pressure spiking. “Day one, and you’re already neglecting your duties?”

He had expected Sun Yi to be a diligent ruler, meditating on sect affairs day and night. Instead, the boy was heading to the library like a truant disciple.

Sun Yi sighed, recognizing the classic ‘Founder vs. Investor’ disconnect. He adopted a patient, explanatory tone.

“Patriarch, you’re confusing leadership with management. If I have to micromanage every decision, then the organizational structure I just built is a failure. I appointed competent Elders so I wouldn’t have to be involved in the trivialities.”

“I’ve set the rules. I’ve established the framework,” Sun Yi continued, tapping his temple. “Now, I need to focus on the grand strategy. I need to upgrade my own cultivation base to match the title of Sect Leader. And frankly, the research for our new spiritual artifacts requires deep study.”

“Besides,” Sun Yi added with a disarming grin, “I have a literal death deadline in twelve months. Do you really think I have time to be lazy? I’m not napping; I’m optimizing.”

Qingxuan stared at him. The logic was twisted, yet strangely sound.

“Fine,” the Patriarch grunted. “I’ll trust your Dao. For now.”

Sun Yi exhaled mentally. Managed that crisis.

“Luo An,” Qingxuan barked, pointing to a stoic cultivator in the group. “You are now Head of the Sect Leader’s Guard. Stick to Sun Yi like a shadow. Obey his orders, but ensure he stays alive.”

“Disciple obeys,” Luo An replied, his voice devoid of emotion.

Sun Yi looked the man over. Ordinary face, cold eyes, calm demeanor. He couldn’t sense the cultivation depth, but the man wore the attire of an elite Inner Disciple. It was a classic move: The Board assigns a ‘bodyguard’ who doubles as a compliance officer to spy on the CEO.

Sun Yi didn’t mind. Free security was free security.

“Let’s move, Agent Luo,” Sun Yi said, heading for the exit.

The walk to the Scripture Library was quiet. Luo An trailed exactly three steps behind Sun Yi, scanning the perimeter with the intensity of a vigilant hawk.

“So, Luo An,” Sun Yi asked, not looking back. “What’s your cultivation level?”

“Late Foundation Establishment,” Luo An replied instantly.

“Spirit Root?”

“High-grade Metal.”

Sun Yi whistled. “Top-tier hardware. I’m jealous. I’m working with a glitched system myself.”

He didn’t stop the interrogation. “Cultivation method?”

“Crack Mountain Sword Art.”

“Tenure at Qingyun?”

“Family size?”

“Who’s your mentor?”

“Who’s your best friend?”

The barrage of questions was relentless. Sun Yi was data-mining his new employee, treating the conversation like a user registration form. Luo An, trained to be a silent statue, found his composure cracking. This Sect Leader was… chatty.

“Relax, I’m just building a profile,” Sun Yi laughed, sensing the tension. He stopped and patted Luo An on the shoulder. “Stick with me, Luo An. I guarantee you’ll hit Peak Foundation Establishment within the quarter. Golden Core? That’s next year’s projection.”

Luo An looked at the Qi Refining junior in front of him. Boasting, he thought. Typical arrogance of the young. Making promises he cannot keep.

“Understood,” Luo An said, his tone flat.

Sun Yi heard the skepticism. He didn’t argue. In the corporate world, you didn’t win loyalty with words; you won it with bonuses.

Sun Yi reached into his pocket and casually tossed two glowing objects backward.

Luo An caught them reflexively. He looked down.

His breath hitched.

Two High-Grade Spirit Stones.

These weren’t just stones; they were strategic assets. Even as a Foundation Establishment cultivator, Luo An had only seen these in display cases. Using them would cut months, maybe years, off his arduous cultivation.

“Consider that a signing bonus,” Sun Yi said, walking away without looking back. “Use them up. When you need a refill, let me know.”

Luo An stood frozen on the path, clutching the fortune in his hands. He looked at the retreating back of the young Sect Leader. The annoyance vanished, replaced by a complex mix of shock and sudden, mercenary respect.

He just… tossed them. Like they were common stones.

Sun Yi smirked as he walked. He knew the rule of the jungle and the boardroom alike: If you want the horse to run, you have to feed it the premium grass.

He had just bought a loyal sword for the price of two rocks. That was just good business.