Pay-to-Win Cultivation: I Get 10,000x Returns

Chapter 271: Has the Gap Between Him and Me Already Grown This Large?

“Daoist Long Zhi,” Lin Xiaozhu said, her gaze sharpening to a razor’s edge. “We’re out of time. We have to find a way to stall tomorrow’s coup—or at the very least, force Elder Sun’s faction to delay their move. At the same time, we need to get word to my uncle immediately so he isn’t caught blind.”

“Notify Chairman Lin?” Long Zhi murmured. Her fingers absently brushed against the Mandarin Duck Companion Jade Pendant resting near her collarbone. The artifact had grown warm, a clear sign that Zhang Xian had crossed into the Central Continent and was already within sensing range.

Zhang Xian’s parting instructions echoed in her mind: “If things go south, crush the puppet replica I gave you. If I’m in range, I’ll be there.”

Long Zhi didn’t hesitate. She crushed the token.

Before a bewildered Lin Xiaozhu could even ask what she was doing, two blinding flashes of white light erupted in the center of the secret chamber. As the harsh glare faded, the figures of Zhang Xian and Li Fuxi materialized.

Zhang Xian stumbled slightly as he landed, shaking his head to clear the vertigo. “Man, the fast travel on this jade pendant is top-tier, but the motion sickness is a bitch,” he muttered to himself.

[Ding! Current Favorability 44]

[Ding! Current Favorability 41]

He glanced up, catching sight of the two women, and flashed a lazy grin. “Yo, Grandmaster Xiaozhu. Long time no see. Miss me?”

“Zhang Xian! Daoist Li Fuxi!” Lin Xiaozhu gasped, relief and shock warring on her face.

“Daoist Lin,” Li Fuxi replied with a graceful tilt of her head. When her eyes met Long Zhi’s, the two women exchanged a subtle, knowing nod—a silent understanding between them.

Lin Xiaozhu wasted no time bringing them up to speed on the impending mutiny.

Zhang Xian rubbed his chin, a dangerous glint in his eye. “In that case, we play along. I’ll crash tomorrow’s little assembly too. Let’s see who’s actually human and who’s wearing a mask. Perfect time to see which rats crawl out of the woodwork.”

Lin Xiaozhu stared at him, skepticism written all over her face. “You?”

Her unspoken implication was deafening: The opposition might have several mid-stage Nascent Soul experts. You’re just an early-stage Nascent Soul. Are you trying to get yourself killed?

Zhang Xian just chuckled, waving a hand dismissively. “Hey now, don’t underestimate me. That little incident where the Guiyuan Sect got wiped off the map? Yeah, that was me.”

“What? You did that?” Lin Xiaozhu’s eyes went perfectly round. She stared at him as if he had just claimed to have eaten the moon.

Even Long Zhi shot him a look of profound disbelief. She hadn’t dared to entertain the thought that Zhang Xian was the culprit.

Has the gap between us really grown this massive without me even realizing it?

Looking at Zhang Xian’s casual, utterly unbothered expression, the two women realized he wasn’t joking. They remembered his terrifying track record—slaughtering a fifth-level Nascent Soul expert back when he was merely at the Golden Core stage. Now that he was a Nascent Soul cultivator himself… flattening the Guiyuan Sect wasn’t just a wild boast. It was entirely within his wheelhouse.

Lin Xiaozhu took a slow, deep breath, forcing her brain to process the absurdity of reality. “Okay! I’ll find a secure channel to contact my uncle right now. We can set up a pincer maneuver—”

“Hold up,” Zhang Xian interrupted, waving her off. “Leave Chairman Lin out of the loop for now. We don’t want to tip our hand.”

Lin Xiaozhu gaped at him. “Why? Tomorrow’s coup is aimed straight at his throat! If we don’t warn him, what if—”

She stopped abruptly, her pretty features frosting over as a horrific thought struck her. “Zhang Xian… are you suspecting my uncle? You think he’s one of Taichu’s dogs? This entire death trap is designed for him, and you still doubt his loyalty?”

Zhang Xian smiled, a cryptic, maddeningly calm curve of his lips. “Not quite. But if Lin Jianyuan suddenly starts fortifying his position tonight, he’s going to leave a trail. The enemy isn’t stupid; they’ll notice. Rule number one of pulling off a massive scam: if you want to fool the enemy, you have to fool your own team first.”

He leaned back against the wall. “We all think we’ve peeked behind the curtain. But how do we know this whole ‘truth’ isn’t just bait? We might just be walking straight into their kill box.”

Outside, Tian Yuan City blazed with neon and spiritual lights against the night sky, but deep within the central council hall, the atmosphere was suffocatingly heavy.

The seating arrangements told a story of their own. Aside from the two councilors who had recently met unfortunate ends, the remaining seven councilors sat rigid in their designated seats, flanking Chairman Lin Jianyuan.

Tellingly, out of the entire Southern Region delegation, only Long Zhi had been granted entry. Key figures like Daxia’s Han Yichen and the Yunmiao Sect’s Head Seat Zhao had been locked out. The political message was loud, clear, and hostile.

Upon the elevated dais, Lin Jianyuan sat enthroned in the center, surrounded by the seven councilors, each wearing a carefully schooled expression of severe gravity. Below them sat a packed audience: department heads of the Heavenly Abyss Alliance, heavyweights from the Central Continent’s major Sects, and allied envoys from the Northern Ridge and Eastern Sea.

Every eye in the room was fixed on the dais. The air was thick with the ozone-scent of an impending storm.

Lin Jianyuan’s expression was an impenetrable mask of calm, but a closer look betrayed the truth. The skin around his eyes was bruised with exhaustion, the whites laced with blood vessels. For days, he had been fighting a war on two fronts: batting away the increasingly venomous political daggers from within, while personally bleeding his own spiritual energy to sustain the Realm-Severing Light Wall. The Western Region’s Hatred was throwing everything it had against the barrier, and the strain was quietly snapping Lin Jianyuan in two.

Judging by the permanent, gloomy crease between his brows, he already knew exactly where this farce of a meeting was headed.

The session opened with the usual bureaucratic theater. They droned on about the degrading border situation, citing casualty reports and resource burn rates that were nothing short of catastrophic.

But soon enough, the pleasantries ended, and the crosshairs shifted to the real target.

The first to draw blood was Hu Hui, a middle-aged female cultivator draped in opulent silks. As a high-ranking executive of the Baoqing Workshop—the Central Continent’s most monopolistic merchant guild—she wielded tremendous influence as a core councilor of the Heavenly Abyss Alliance. For a corporate juggernaut like the Baoqing Workshop, playing both sides of the fence between the Guiyuan Sect and the Alliance wasn’t treason; it was just a diversified portfolio.

She cleared her throat, her voice dripping with the kind of practiced, saccharine concern reserved for corporate boardrooms.

“Chairman Lin, your ceaseless dedication is, of course, recognized by everyone in the Alliance. Verily, you have carried a heavy burden. Yet… as our paramount vanguard, forced to personally man the front lines against the encroaching darkness whilst attempting to micromanage the logistical rear—does it not seem you are stretching yourself dangerously thin?”

She paused, letting the silence stretch. “One must wonder if you have considered temporarily unburdening yourself of the Chairman’s mantle. Should you transfer the authority of strategic governance to the collective wisdom of this council, you would be entirely free to focus on the martial slaughter you excel at. We, in turn, would marshal the rear, maximizing our operational efficiency in these dire times. A necessary sacrifice for the greater good, wouldn’t you agree?”

The temperature in the great hall plummeted to freezing. The preamble was over; the execution had begun.

Lin Jianyuan didn’t even blink. “Councilor Hu. The frontlines are drowning in blood, and the Hatred escalates its assault with every passing hour. Add to that the sudden, catastrophic upheaval within the Guiyuan Sect, and our position is precarious at best. We are navigating treacherous waters. Changing captains in the midst of a hurricane is the pinnacle of martial folly. I must decline your… generous proposal.”

Elder Sun—an elderly man with a face like carved granite—leaned forward, his voice a low, booming rumble that sought to crush Lin Jianyuan’s authority. “Your words are flawed, Chairman Lin! It is precisely because we balance upon the precipice of total annihilation that we must pool our collective wisdom! We must elevate a sovereign truly fit to navigate this apocalypse!”

“You laid the foundation stones of the Heavenly Abyss Alliance! Your martial prowess is peerless, and your deeds against the Hatred are carved in legend! None in this hall would dare deny your monumental glory!” Elder Sun declared, his grandiose tone a stark contrast to his venomous intent.

“Yet, wielding a blade and wielding an empire are two vastly different arts! Your recent string of calamitous blunders has led to the tragic demise of Councilor Huang and Councilor Xu. Our most elite reconnaissance vanguard was marched into a slaughterhouse! Tell us, Chairman Lin, should you not bear the mantle of guilt for these unforgivable failures?”

Lin Jianyuan’s composure finally cracked, his gaze turning deadly cold. “Is there a war without corpses, Elder Sun? We are cornered beasts! Survival demands gambles. I cannot bend heaven and earth to ensure every stratagem unfolds flawlessly!”

“Indeed!” Elder Sun pressed, rising slightly from his seat, driving the nail deeper. “But we cannot abide a sovereign who leaps from one disastrous folly to the next! You are a warlord, Lin Jianyuan. Your destiny is to ride the bloody winds and slaughter the monstrous hordes! It is not to sit upon this throne, vainly attempting to juggle the fate of millions, dragging the entirety of the Heavenly Abyss Alliance step by inexorable step into the abyss of eternal damnation!”

Lin Jianyuan slammed his fist onto the armrest. “I refuse! At least, not today. When the Hatred calamity has been burned to ash, I will step down of my own volition and offer this council my head. Until then, I remain.”

Hu Hui let out a derisive, tinkling laugh, her sarcasm cutting through the tension like glass. “The Hatred calamity? Pray tell, Chairman Lin, when exactly will that be? You have done nothing but turtle behind your Light Wall like a frightened tortoise. At this rate, we will be waiting until the sun burns out. I dare say it is not duty that binds you to that seat… but a pathetic addiction to your own dwindling power!”