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

Chapter 279: I Want to Do an Interesting Experiment with You

In a private sword chamber, Li Fuxi moved with lethal grace. As she completed the final form of her sword sequence, she sheathed her blade, her skin glistening with a light sheen of fragrant sweat.

She walked over to the long mahogany table in the corner where Zhang Xian was currently planted. His brows were slightly furrowed as his Divine Sense pored over a dozen unrolled jade slips, all of which contained highly complex divination and deduction techniques.

Li Fuxi sat down opposite him, poured herself a cup of spiritual tea, and took a slow sip.

Noticing that Zhang Xian was completely engrossed and hadn’t even looked up to greet her, she couldn’t help but ask, “Since when did you develop an interest in the esoteric arts of divination? Isn’t it a bit late in the game to start picking up a secondary class?”

She set her teacup down, her tone shifting into a gentle reprimand. “I’ve noticed you’ve been slacking on your actual cultivation lately. Having top-tier skill manuals and an infinite supply of spirit treasures is great, but your core realm is the foundation of everything.”

Hearing the lecture, Zhang Xian finally looked up. He took in his master’s flushed, post-workout complexion and flashed a lazy grin. “Relax. As long as Master is completely overpowered, I’m good. Besides, your disciple has a very exclusive ‘auto-cultivate’ passive skill. Whatever realm you reach, I’ll eventually just rubber-band right up to your level.”

Li Fuxi clearly didn’t buy a word of it, shooting him a beautifully reproachful glare. “Smooth talker.”

But Zhang Xian doubled down, looking entirely serious. “I’m not kidding! How else do you explain my ridiculous leveling speed? Hell, even my dual Metal and Water Heavenly Spirit Roots were basically ‘leeching’ off your stats, Master. This is what true dual cultivation looks like—our minds and bodies perfectly synced.”

Li Fuxi’s cheeks flared with sudden heat. She wisely chose not to engage with his shameless flirting. After taking a moment to regulate her breathing, she prepared to head back to the center of the room to resume her training.

Suddenly, Zhang Xian reached across the table and caught her wrist.

Li Fuxi flinched slightly, her eyes narrowing with a mix of wariness and anticipation. “What are you doing?”

A roguish, highly suspicious smile spread across Zhang Xian’s face. “Master, don’t look so tense. I just want to do a fun little experiment with you.”

Li Fuxi immediately broke eye contact, staring intensely at the tabletop. “Stop messing around. Haven’t we ‘verified’ my Ningyu Sutra enough times already? Stop bullying your master.”

Zhang Xian laughed aloud. “Oh, there’s no rush on that. We have all night to ‘verify’ your techniques. No, I meant… how about I read your fortune?”

“Read my fortune?”

With the exaggerated flair of a street magician, Zhang Xian pulled a bizarrely intricate, circular Formation disk from his inventory and set it on the table.

The device featured a fixed golden needle in the dead center, surrounded by multiple concentric, interlocking rings. Every inch of the rings was meticulously engraved with microscopic, profoundly complex runes and mathematical scales. The outermost ring was divided into 64 precise segments, numbered from “One” to “Sixty-Four.”

“Check it out, Master.” Zhang Xian gestured to the device, looking incredibly smug. “Your brilliant disciple has spent the last few days speed-running the divination skill tree. I’m ready for my first reading, and I’m dedicating it to you.”

He paused, holding up a finger. “Disclaimer though: this particular Formation setup currently only handles ‘Yes or No’ queries, and the output is strictly probability-based.”

Li Fuxi stared at the bizarre, hyper-advanced piece of hardware, then at Zhang Xian’s ridiculously confident expression. Her beautiful eyes were brimming with skepticism. “You speed-ran this in a few days? Furthermore, every true Divination Grandmaster I’ve ever met uses ancient tortoise shells, jade coins, or yarrow stalks. What in the world is this piece of machinery?”

“Master, please. Don’t insult my gear. This is a Top Grade spiritual treasure-tier divination array processor. It completely outclasses those archaic, dollar-store turtle shells.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to drop it, and secretly not wanting to crush his enthusiasm, Li Fuxi sighed. “Fine. Do your worst. Hmm… let’s run a query on Yin Yin. Calculate the probability of her breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage within the next 10 years.”

“Easy!” Zhang Xian snapped his fingers. He immediately channeled a pulse of spiritual power into the array, tapping a specific sequence of runes while muttering a string of rapid-fire calculations.

The inner rings of the Formation disk whirred to life, spinning in opposite directions and causing the outermost ring to rotate with a smooth, mechanical hum. A moment later, the rings locked into place. The golden needle hovered just a fraction to the left of the “Sixty-Four” mark.

Li Fuxi leaned in, curious despite herself. “And what does that mean?”

Zhang Xian laughed. “Like I said, we’re calculating probability! ‘One’ is absolute zero, and ‘Sixty-Four’ is a guaranteed 100 percent. The needle stopping right there means Yin Yin has a massive, 98 percent chance of hitting Nascent Soul within the decade!”

Li Fuxi couldn’t help but smile. “Well, it’s certainly accurate. Yin Yin is a generational talent, and with the grandmaster personally power-leveling her, a 10-year timeline is very realistic.”

“Alright, hit me with another one!” Zhang Xian urged, clearly having fun.

Li Fuxi thought for a moment. “Alright. Calculate the probability of the Yunmiao Sect enduring for 10,000 years without falling.”

Zhang Xian entered the parameters. The disk spun, hummed, and clacked to a halt. The needle rested dead on “Eleven.”

Li Fuxi gasped, covering her mouth. “What? Less than a 20 percent chance?”

Zhang Xian waved a dismissive hand, entirely unbothered. “Master, chill. Divination taps into the source code of reality. The larger the scale and the further into the future you look, the more chaotic the variables become. Something as massive as a Sect’s 10,000-year Providence is heavily encrypted by the heavens. You can’t get an accurate read on macro-level server events like that. Give me something micro. Something personal.”

Li Fuxi shook her head, suddenly losing interest. “I don’t really have anything personal I want to know.”

“Come on,” Zhang Xian pressed. “Ask something about yourself. Or better yet, ask something about me!”

Li Fuxi gave him a flat look. “What is there to calculate about you? And as for myself, what good does knowing the future do? Fate is fluid. Peeking at the script only creates anxiety and ruins your current state of mind. Ignorance is bliss.”

Zhang Xian gave her a massive thumbs-up. “Master is incredibly based.”

But Zhang Xian’s inner troll was fully awakened now. He pulled the disk closer to himself and stage-whispered, “Alright then, I’ll just calculate whether my Master is secretly in love with me.”

The disk whirred aggressively before slamming to a halt exactly on “Sixty.”

Zhang Xian quickly did the math in his head. “Well, well. Roughly a 93 percent probability. I had no idea Master was so fiercely devoted to her humble disciple.”

He chuckled internally. Li Fuxi’s system Favorability score was currently sitting exactly at 93. Damn, this pay-to-win array is actually legit!

Li Fuxi’s face erupted in a brilliant blush. “That thing is broken! Who the hell is in love with you?! You absolutely rigged the machine!”

“Oh? Let’s verify that,” Zhang Xian teased. “Query: Master does not like me.”

Li Fuxi’s heart leaped into her throat. Despite herself, her eyes were glued to the spinning rings. When the disk finally stopped and the needle rested weakly on the “Six” mark, a strange, terrifying thrill shot through her chest. She stole a nervous, sideways glance at Zhang Xian.

But Zhang Xian was currently rubbing his chin, looking at the disk with genuine academic confusion. “That’s weird. The positive and negative probabilities don’t add up to a perfect 64. I guess this array factors in complex emotional variables rather than treating it as a pure binary.”

Seeing that he was completely distracted by the math and not gloating over the result, Li Fuxi let out a massive, silent sigh of relief. “You’re so childish,” she scolded gently. “Stop wasting time on these parlor tricks and do some actual work.”

But Zhang Xian had already moved on, aggressively typing new queries into the array. “Query: The apocalyptic plague of the Seven Emotions was originally unleashed by The Drifting King, Wang Ye.”

The needle spun and locked onto “Forty.”

Huh? Both Zhang Xian and Li Fuxi frowned. That was barely above a coin flip.

Zhang Xian rapidly entered a new query. “Query: The Drifting King, Wang Ye, faked his death and is still alive.”

The needle instantly slammed down on “Two.”

Zhang Xian sucked his teeth. “Tsk. That is functionally a zero. But the first result was weirdly ambiguous. It looks like ancient lore events or massive endgame secrets are heavily firewalled. Either the data is too corrupted by time, or some top-tier admin is actively scrambling the signal.”

He began rapid-firing test queries.

“Query: Grandmaster Taichu is the sole mastermind manipulating the Seven Emotions.”

Needle: “Thirty-Four.” (Ambiguous/Inconclusive)

“Query: The absolute ultimate secret to breaking the world’s level cap is hidden behind the Stone Gate of Fate.”

Needle: “Forty-One.” (Likely, but missing variables)

“Query: Lin Xiaozhu is a direct bloodline descendant of The Drifting King, Wang Ye.”

Needle: “Fifty-Two.” (Highly Probable/Confirmed)

“Query: Song Taichu is the direct descendant of the ancient Song Yuanyi.”

Needle: “Thirty-Nine.” (Ambiguous/Interfered)

“Query: Lin Jianyuan is a direct bloodline descendant of The Drifting King, Wang Ye.”

Needle: “Forty-Four.” (Probable, but anomalous)

Watching Zhang Xian treat the ancient, profound art of divination like a malfunctioning slot machine, Li Fuxi finally couldn’t take it anymore.

“The Dao of Divination exists to glimpse a fragile thread of heavenly truth to avoid absolute disaster,” she lectured, pinching the bridge of her nose. “You can’t just spam queries at the universe like it’s a parlor game! The results are going to degrade into nonsense. Stop obsessing over it before you trigger a cosmic backlash.”