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

Yesterday, when Baoyuan Zhenren and Elder Chen first crossed paths, Baoyuan had held back. But seeing that Elder Chen refused to make the first move, his patience eventually snapped, and he launched an attack.

The result was unexpected. Elder Chen didn’t engage him head-on at all; instead, she turned and fled.

Baoyuan gave chase, only to be ambushed. Two black-robed Nascent Soul cultivators surged out from nowhere, completing an encirclement.

What was truly terrifying was the disparity in power. These two black-robed figures clearly had lower cultivation bases than him, yet their Dharma Treasures were shockingly potent. Baoyuan, a dignified Second Stage Nascent Soul cultivator and a legitimate inheritor of the Guizang Palace, found himself beaten back step by step. He was utterly humiliated, forced into a retreat that could only be described as pathetic.

As for Yu Zhiwei and the Junior Brother with the center-parted hair? In a battle between Nascent Souls, their meager Golden Core cultivation was negligible. They could barely protect themselves from the shockwaves.

In the end, Baoyuan Zhenren was forced to burn his ultimate trump card—a defensive Talisman he had saved for a life-or-death crisis—just to stabilize their footing.

However, the enemy seemed in no rush to break his tortoise shell. Instead, they simply bombarded the barrier, draining his Spiritual Energy drop by drop, trapping them in place like rats in a cage.

A day and a night had passed. Baoyuan Zhenren’s Spiritual Energy was nearing total exhaustion.

“Has the Sect’s distress signal been sent?” Baoyuan’s voice was hoarse, scraping against his throat like sandpaper.

“It’s sent!” The Junior Brother answered with a sob. “But we’re too far from the Sect! Even if an Elder sets out immediately, it will take at least two days. Senior Brother, we won’t last that long!”

Yu Zhiwei bit her lower lip until it nearly bled, trying desperately to remain calm. But the knuckles of her hand gripping her long sword were bone-white, trembling uncontrollably. She looked at the three figures hovering outside the light shield like reapers waiting for the harvest, and her heart turned to ice.

Baoyuan Zhenren’s expression was as dark and still as a stagnant pool. He stared fixatedly at the trio outside.

After a full day of combat and observation, he had finally noticed something amiss. The movements of the two black-robed cultivators, while fierce, carried a subtle, indescribable stiffness. Their auras lacked the fluid vitality that a living Nascent Soul cultivator should possess.

“Puppets!”

A flash of inspiration struck Baoyuan’s mind. The realization hit him like a physical blow. These weren’t cultivators at all—they were two Nascent Soul-level puppets being remotely controlled!

“Who exactly are you people?” Baoyuan shouted sternly, though a trace of despair leaked into his voice. If the enemy’s mere puppets were this powerful, how terrifying was the master controlling them? “Controlling puppets to trap us here… what is your intention?”

The black-robed cultivator on the left slowly raised his head. A voice, dry and rasping like grinding stones, emerged from beneath the hood.

“This seat is Qianji Zhenren. Now that you know my name, you may die in peace.”

Qianji Zhenren.

The pupils of Baoyuan, Yu Zhiwei, and the Junior Brother contracted violently. A chill shot from the soles of their feet straight to the crown of their heads, freezing their blood.

The Thousand Machine Old Demon.

He was a legendary heretic of the Nascent Soul realm, obsessed with cruel puppet arts. He was currently wanted by both the Guiyuan Sect and the Heavenly Abyss Alliance in the Central Continent. To think such a nightmare would appear here…

“You trapped us here… what do you want?” Baoyuan asked, his voice trembling despite his best efforts.

“What do I want?” The black-robed figure’s voice held a note of cruel mockery. “Naturally, I want to turn you into fine additions to my collection. Just like her.”

He pointed a stiff finger at the wooden, expressionless Elder Chen floating beside him.

Turned into puppets?

“No!!”

The Junior Brother let out a shrill, unmanly scream and collapsed to the ground. He had heard the rumors of Qianji Zhenren’s methods. Victims were refined into living flesh-and-blood puppets, their consciousness trapped within their own bodies, unable to die or ascend, enduring eternal torment. It was a fate a thousand times worse than death.

Baoyuan Zhenren’s eyes bulged, nearly splitting with rage. A surge of desperate, bloody courage rushed to his heart.

He whipped his head around, roaring at his two juniors. “Listen to me! In a moment, I will drop the barrier. The three of us will fight to the death! Remember—we would rather Self-Destruct our Golden Cores and Nascent Souls, destroying our very souls, than be captured! We cannot let this old demon take us alive! Do you understand?!”

Yu Zhiwei took a deep ragged breath. Her eyes hardened with resolve, and she nodded forcefully. She tightened her grip on her sword, ready to burn jade and stone together.

The Junior Brother, however, was scared out of his wits. “Senior Brother, I don’t want to die! I don’t want to become a puppet! Let’s hold on a little longer, maybe someone will come…”

Baoyuan ignored him, a ruthless light flashing in his eyes. His hands flew through a series of seals, preparing to ignite his Potential and detonate his cultivation the moment the shield fell.

At that critical, hair-raising moment—

Whoosh—!

Whoosh—!

Two ear-piercing sonic booms tore through the air, streaking across the dim sky like meteors.

The first was a staggering black-robed figure, his aura wildly unstable. His robes were shredded, revealing grievous wounds, and his flight path was erratic, as if he were fleeing for his life.

The second was a dazzling stream of brilliant purple light chasing close behind.

Within that purple radiance, a woman dressed in a pristine white dress strode through the air. Her face was peerlessly beautiful, cold and aloof. Thunder crackled around her form, and her hair danced in the wind.

It was Long Zhi.

“Hmm?”

The two black-robed puppets outside the barrier turned their heads in unison. Without a second of hesitation, they abandoned Baoyuan’s group and launched themselves at Long Zhi with killing intent.

Long Zhi’s eyes were icy.

Facing the pouncing puppets, she didn’t even bother to draw her sword. She merely parted her cherry lips slightly and uttered a single, clear word that resonated like a decree from the heavens.

“Fall.”

BOOM!

Two bolts of thick lightning crashed down from the firmament, striking the crowns of the black-robed puppets with surgical precision.

Crack! Crack!

The two Nascent Soul-level puppets—monsters that had suppressed Baoyuan Zhenren and forced him to the brink of self-destruction—were instantly torn apart by the violent thunder. Their joints shattered, their bodies disintegrating into flying ash.

“Hiss!”

Inside the light shield, Baoyuan Zhenren sucked in a cold breath, his eyes widening until they were perfectly round.

Those were Nascent Soul puppets! They had pushed him into a corner, yet this white-robed goddess had reduced them to dust with a single word!

Baoyuan Zhenren and his Junior Brother stared, completely captivated. The image of Long Zhi’s cold, exquisite face and her god-like power seared itself into their minds. An indescribable mixture of thrill, awe, and admiration flooded their hearts.

Baoyuan felt a rush of hot blood surge to his head. The despair and fear from moments ago were cast beyond the nine heavens. In their place was a singular, burning desire: to display his bravery in front of this fairy maiden.

“Fairy Maiden! I shall assist you!”

Baoyuan Zhenren roared, his heroic spirit soaring to the clouds. He abruptly collapsed the teetering light shield and shot out like a cannonball, charging straight for the injured black-robed figure.

He was going to capture this demon and claim the primary merit before the goddess’s eyes!

The injured black-robed figure snorted coldly. Without looking, he swept his sleeve backward. A streak of golden light, fast as lightning, slammed into Baoyuan’s chest.

Pfft!

Baoyuan Zhenren felt as if he had been struck by a siege hammer. He sprayed a mouthful of blood into the air and was sent flying backward, smashing heavily into a pile of rubble dozens of zhang away. His aura instantly withered to the breaking point.

This sudden slap to reality was like a bucket of ice water dumped over their heads. The Junior Brother, whose courage had just barely kindled, felt his legs turn to jelly and collapsed back onto the ground. The fairy maiden was beautiful, but he decided he didn’t have the lifespan to show off.

The black-robed figure waved his hand, collecting the two cores from the destroyed puppets. Simultaneously, he formed a seal with his other hand, and the silent Elder Chen transformed into a stream of light, vanishing into his sleeve.

Having done all this, he stared fixedly at Long Zhi, his voice hoarse and dripping with hatred.

“Long Zhi! This seat was careless today. Next time, you won’t be so lucky!”

Long Zhi hovered in the air, expressionless. Her calm gaze rested on him.

According to Zhang Xian’s script, this was the part where she was supposed to coldly retort with a line like, “Qianji Old Demon, you have committed countless evils. Today is the day of your death!”

However… she was terrible at acting.

She just floated there, staring quietly. The silence stretched. She found herself too awkward to open her mouth, so she simply remained silent, letting the wind blow through her hair.