On the deck of the flying boat, the atmosphere was electric. It wasn’t just the relief of survival; it was the intoxicating high of a record-breaking harvest. Every cultivator returning from the Myriad Demon Forest wore the expression of a man who had just struck a vein of spirit stones.

“Senior Brother Zhao, what is the total tally for your squad?”

“Hahaha! The final count is solid. We’re looking at a value of two million Points.” Zhao Hai’s face was flushed, grinning like a man who had just ascended a minor realm.

“Congratulations! That’s a massive fortune.” A Foundation Establishment captain from a neighboring team nodded in approval.

“And you?” Zhao Hai asked, pivoting to compare results. “Your team’s harvest couldn’t have been poor.”

The neighboring captain flashed a brilliant smile. “We didn’t quite hit your numbers, but the Hall of Appraisal valued our haul at one million nine hundred thousand. We’re satisfied.”

“1.9 million? That is a negligible difference. Well done.” Zhao Hai cupped his hands, playing the part of the gracious victor.

“Mutual congratulations,” the captain replied, leaning in with a conspiratorial whisper. “But have you heard? The top-performing squad is projecting a harvest of over five million.”

Zhao Hai blanched. “Five million? Are you sure the appraisal is right?”

“That’s insane. Who has that kind of karma?”

“Even if the captain takes a standard ten percent share, that’s a fifty-thousand-point payout in one go!”

Gasps rippled through the crowd. Five million was an astronomical figure, a sum that shifted the conversation from ‘wealth’ to ‘foundation.’

“Rumor has it they secured a Chongling Fruit,” someone muttered. “That treasure is in a class of its own.”

“A Chongling Fruit?” Zhao Hai’s eyes widened. “That’s effectively a Foundation Establishment Pill in raw form. No wonder their valuation soared.”

“Heh, no need to be jealous,” another disciple interjected, his voice filled with the confidence of security. “In just one month, we’ve secured enough resources to fund our cultivation for years. With the Sect Leader’s new decrees, the Myriad Demon Forest isn’t a death trap anymore—it’s a land of opportunity.”

“Exactly. We return, reinvest in our Dao base, and come back next season with higher cultivation to earn even more.”

The deck buzzed with excitement. Everyone was mentally calculating their future. Standing at the prow, Patriarch Qingxuan listened to the chatter, a satisfied smile gracing his lips.

The profit margins were simply absurd.

As more squads extracted from the forest and docked, the specialized Appraisal Elders went to work. They appraised assets on the spot, crediting Points directly to team tokens and warehousing the raw materials. It was a streamlined transaction.

Disciples could even opt to keep the raw materials by paying the equivalent Points, an option the disciples appreciated.

It took a full day to process the backlog. When the final squad boarded, Patriarch Qingxuan finally let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Zero casualties.

Despite the inherent risks of the Myriad Demon Forest, the casualty report was clean. Injuries, yes, but no fatalities. It was a perfect operation.

“Depart! Return to the Sect!”

Qingxuan waved his hand. The massive flying boat hummed, spiritual light flaring as the arrays kicked in. The vessel transformed into a streak of light, accelerating toward the Qingyun Sect.

Inside the main cabin on the top deck, the Appraisal Team was drowning in inventory lists, their faces glowing with excitement.

A blur of motion signaled the arrival of the Patriarch.

“Greetings, Ancestor!” The elders and stewards scrambled to bow.

“At ease,” Qingxuan said, waving them down. “Steward Long, do we have the final tally?”

Steward Long, a shrewd middle-aged Foundation Establishment cultivator who managed the books, looked like he was about to faint from pure joy. He held up a jade slip, his hands trembling slightly.

“Ancestor… the yield is terrifying. We’ve run the preliminary numbers. If we convert all raw materials into Sect Points… the Total Harvest is approximately five hundred million.”

“Five hundred million?” Qingxuan’s voice cracked. “Check the formation again. Are you certain?”

Even as a Nascent Soul cultivator who had seen the rise and fall of dynasties, the number stunned him. Five hundred million points? The sect’s entire treasury prior to Sun Yi’s takeover barely scraped a fraction of that. A single month of organized extraction had eclipsed centuries of traditional gathering.

“I’ve triple-checked, Ancestor,” Steward Long said, breathing heavily. “If anything, it’s a conservative estimate. There are several exotic treasures we can’t price until we consult the main archives. The final figure will only go up.”

“Good. Good!” Qingxuan laughed, a sound of pure relief and vindication. “The Appraisal Team has worked tirelessly. For this operation, calculate your rewards with a five-fold multiplier. Consider it a Sect Bounty.”

The stewards froze, then erupted.

“Thank you, Ancestor!” they shouted in unison, bowing deeply.

Qingxuan scanned their beaming faces. A strange satisfaction welled up in his chest. So this is why Sun Yi throws spirit stones around, he realized. Buying loyalty with a wave of the hand… it feels incredible.

“Carry on,” Qingxuan said, vanishing from the room before his grin could ruin his mysterious image.

The return trip would take three days. He could barely wait. He needed to get back to the sect and slam this jade slip onto Sun Yi’s desk.

Location: Qingyun Sect – Sect Leader’s Private Chambers

While the fleet celebrated their windfall, Sun Yi was engaged in a different kind of consumption.

He sat cross-legged in the center of the room, a Top-Grade Spirit Stone gripped in each hand. Pure, concentrated spiritual energy flooded his meridians, pushing his cultivation base higher by the second.

His aura was already trembling at the threshold of the Qi Refining Peak.

On the floor around him lay empty pill bottles—hundreds of them. He wasn’t using the Spirit Stones because he wanted to show off; he was using them because his body had developed a tolerance. The standard ‘Peiyuan Pills’ and ‘Gathering Spirit Pills’ were now useless, offering diminishing marginal utility that approached zero.

To anyone else, Sun Yi’s current method was madness. He was burning through Top-Grade Spirit Stones—strategic reserves for Golden Core cultivators—just to grind through the final percent of the Qi Refining stage.

If the Elders saw this, they would vomit blood. They would call him a prodigal son, a destroyer of wealth.

Sun Yi called it ‘Customer Acquisition Cost.’

Time is the only asset I can’t borrow, Sun Yi thought, discarding two drained stones and grabbing fresh ones. Efficiency is irrelevant. Velocity is everything. I need to hit the level cap before the expansion phase begins.

The sect had been running on autopilot thanks to Er Gouzi’s adherence to the new SOPs. With five Golden Core executives on the board, operations were stable. The recent seminars had even triggered a wave of breakthroughs among the staff.

The company was healthy. But Sun Yi was anxious.

It had been a month since the IPO roadshow—the Myriad Demon Forest expedition—had departed.

They should be back soon, he thought, unable to settle his mind. The Q3 results will determine if we have the capital to pivot to Phase 2 or if we’re filing for bankruptcy.

Suddenly, Sun Yi’s eyes snapped open.

He launched himself off the meditation mat, sprinting out of the cultivation room. A massive, familiar pressure was descending from the sky, rapidly approaching the mountain gate.

It was Patriarch Qingxuan. The fleet was home.