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

Chapter 229: Your Acting Is So Bad

Zhang Xian’s heart hammered against his ribs.

Long Zhi was no weakling. She was a cultivator at the third level of the Nascent Soul stage, protected by a High Grade Spirit Treasure. For her to be defeated instantly—unable to withstand even a handful of exchanges—the opponent’s strength had to be unfathomable.

“What did he look like?” Zhang Xian asked, his voice low.

“A young male cultivator,” Long Zhi said, her brow furrowing as she forced herself to recall the terror. “He wore a plain, unremarkable Daoist robe. The only distinctive feature… was his hair. Long, black, and neatly parted down the middle.”

Parted down the middle?

A name surfaced instantly in Zhang Xian’s mind. While that hairstyle wasn’t unique in the Guiyuan Sect, only one person possessed the power to crush a Nascent Soul cultivator like an insect.

The Founder. The Supreme Elder. Grandmaster Taichu.

With a cultivation base at half-step Soul Formation, breaking Long Zhi would have been as easy for him as snapping a dry twig.

“It wasn’t just his strength,” Long Zhi whispered, a tremor running through her frame. “I couldn’t run. The moment I tried to crush the jade pendant you gave me, an invisible force locked my entire body. I couldn’t even twitch a finger.”

She took a shaky breath. “He walked up to me and tapped the center of my forehead. Just a light touch. In that instant, my main consciousness felt like it was forcibly shoved to the bottom of a freezing, dark ocean. I was silenced. Paralyzed.”

Her eyes darkened. “At the same time, another ‘me’ took the wheel. I could feel her. She was still me—she had my memories, my emotions—but she was filled with an absolute, fanatical loyalty to that man.”

A chill crawled up Zhang Xian’s spine.

This was far more horrific than the [Heart Severing Art], which merely tampered with memories. This was a complete personality rewrite.

“And then?”

“His command was simple: Find an opportunity to severely injure you, then bring you back to him alive.”

Zhang Xian rubbed his chin, a grimace twisting his lips. “Tsk. Skipping the tutorial and going straight to the Final Boss? The difficulty curve on this dungeon is seriously broken.”

Long Zhi hugged her shoulders, fear still lingering in her eyes. “If you hadn’t been paranoid enough to leave a trace of the [Heart-Questioning Sword] intent inside me, I would be his puppet right now. That feeling… watching your body move against your will… is worse than physical and spiritual annihilation.”

Zhang Xian could only imagine the violation. For someone as proud and aloof as Long Zhi to admit such fear, Grandmaster Taichu’s methods were truly monstrous.

Subconsciously, he pulled up the System Panel.

Lin Xiaozhu and Xiao Liuli’s Providence values were unchanged. But at the very bottom of the list, the entry for the “Daughter of Destiny” from the Animal Crossing Association—worth 10 points—had turned gray and vanished.

She was dead.

And if she was dead, Wang Meng the Tiger Demon and the other survivors were likely gone too. A heavy stone settled in Zhang Xian’s chest. It was his insistence on visiting the Animal Crossing Association that had indirectly led them to their doom.

He shook his head, forcing the guilt down. Now was not the time.

“That man is almost certainly the master of the Guiyuan Sect, Grandmaster Taichu,” Zhang Xian analyzed, his voice turning cold. “However, this evil art of mind control must have severe limitations. If he could do it freely, he would have unified the Central Continent centuries ago.”

Long Zhi nodded. “Agreed. Even without your sword intent, I could feel my own cultivation slowly wearing down his seal. Given two months, I probably could have regained control on my own.”

“That’s still terrifying,” Zhang Xian mused. “Combine that with the [Heart Severing Art] to tweak key memories, and he can silently replace enemies with sleeper agents. No wonder I felt something was off about Xiaozhu and Chengyan but couldn’t spot a flaw.”

Long Zhi’s fingers turned white as she gripped her robes. “To have one’s consciousness imprisoned like that… the two of them must be suffering terribly.”

“Grandmaster Taichu is a half-step Soul Formation entity,” Zhang Xian said, his brow locked in a tight frown. “We can’t fight him head-on. Not yet. And if he realizes we can break his control, he’ll raise his guard. The next time he strikes, he won’t be so gentle.”

Long Zhi raised her head. The fear in her eyes evaporated, replaced by her usual icy resolve.

“I have a plan.”

After hearing Long Zhi’s proposal, Zhang Xian’s expression became incredibly grave.

“That is too risky,” he said flatly. “One slip-up, and you fall into an abyss with no return. You could be fully enslaved forever, denied even the release of death.”

Long Zhi’s face was as calm as a still lake, but her voice carried the weight of steel.

“The wicked are rampant, their treacherous shadows covering the sky. Without thunderous means, the filth cannot be cleansed. Though the path ahead is fraught with peril, I shall tread it with my own body.”

Zhang Xian blinked. “Wait.”

He stared at her. “Why do you sound like my master all of a sudden? Every time you people want to make a point, you switch to incomprehensible Classical Chinese.”

Despite his jest, he saw the light in her eyes. It was a stubborn, familiar light. She had made up her mind the moment she woke up. There was no dissuading her.

He stayed silent for a long moment.

“Do you trust me?” he asked solemnly.

Long Zhi met his gaze without flinching. “Of course. You’ve saved me from death three times. If I cannot trust you, who in this world is left to trust?”

Zhang Xian nodded. He raised his hand, extending his index finger. A wisp of purple lightning—condensed to its absolute limit—crackled at the tip.

“I am going to plant a seed of Origin Thunder deep within your Inner Palace.”

This was an act of ultimate vulnerability. It was equivalent to handing her life completely over to him. No sane cultivator would agree to let another’s destructive energy sit inside their Dantian.

Long Zhi didn’t blink. “Do it.”

Zhang Xian’s finger moved like a striking viper, tapping the Dantian at her lower abdomen. The wisp of Violet Heaven Tribulation Thunder vanished into her body silently, burying itself in her core.

“This Thunder Essence is linked to your soul,” Zhang Xian explained grimly. “If your Divine Sense is suppressed again, or if you face a fate worse than death, you only need to trigger a single thought of self-destruction.”

“The Thunder will erupt instantly. It will give you… a quick end.”

He paused, his eyes hard. “At the same time, the [Nine Nether Tribulation Puppet] I gave you will activate automatically. Consider it the final fail-safe.”

Zhang Xian then waved his hand, dumping several items from his Storage Ring: jade bottles and shimmering artifacts.

“Refine these defensive High Grade Spirit Treasures immediately. And keep these pills close. They can save your life in a pinch.”

Long Zhi opened her mouth to refuse. She hated owing favors.

Zhang Xian shoved the items into her hands before she could speak. “Don’t argue. This isn’t a sparring match. We are playing against a half-step Soul Formation monster. More preparation equals a higher survival rate. Even if it only buys you one extra breath of time, that breath could change everything.”

Long Zhi touched a white gauze garment, light and thin as a cicada’s wing. If she had possessed this earlier, perhaps she wouldn’t have been defeated so quickly.

She swallowed her refusal. “Alright.”

[Ding! Gift Successful.]

Silence descended upon the cave. The preparations were done. It was time to part ways.

Zhang Xian stood up. “Be careful in everything.”

Long Zhi nodded, clutching the treasures. “You too.”

He walked to the entrance of the cave. He paused, looking back with a lopsided grin, trying to cut through the heavy atmosphere.

“By the way, your acting is terrible. You usually have that resting stone-face. Don’t mess up the performance this time.”

A faint, rare smile broke through the ice on Long Zhi’s pale face.

“You underestimate me.”