Sun Yi took a deep breath, his gaze locking onto Patriarch Qingxuan.

“Chairman,” Sun Yi said, his voice steady. “To execute this turnaround, I need leverage. I require absolute executive authority—second only to you—and unrestricted access to the sect’s liquidity and assets.”

Before the Patriarch could respond, the Board of Directors exploded.

“Absolutely not!” Elder Jin Jue leaped forward. “You are a Level 3 intern! How dare you demand plenary powers?”

“This is insane!” Qin Chu shouted. “Giving a junior employee control of the budget is a security risk!”

“Patriarch, do not listen to this madness!” Li Tai pleaded. “Authority is not a toy!”

Han Yun and Ye Luo joined the chorus. They knew exactly what “absolute authority” meant. It meant they would report to Sun Yi. It meant their tenure was over.

Patriarch Qingxuan frowned. He had already decided against the five Elders; their earlier performance review had been disastrous. But handing the keys to the kingdom to a Qi Refining disciple was a gamble.

Still, Sun Yi’s logic was sound. And the request was only for a one-year term. For a Nascent Soul cultivator, a year was a blink of an eye.

Sun Yi saw the hesitation and pressed his advantage.

“Chairman,” Sun Yi said, raising his voice over the Elders’ protests. “If I take the CEO role, I must implement radical structural reforms. These changes will disrupt vested interests. Without your mandate and absolute authority, the obstructionists”—he glanced at the Elders—”will sabotage the restructuring.”

“Reforms?” Qingxuan leaned forward, intrigued.

“Yes. The Qingyun Sect is facing a solvency crisis. We must pivot or perish,” Sun Yi declared. “My strategy involves painful but necessary cuts.”

“Elaborate,” Qingxuan commanded.

Sun Yi straightened his spine. “First: Corporate Governance. I propose ten new Core Policies to replace the outdated sect rules.”

He listed them off like bullet points on a slide deck:

“1. Treason: Immediate liquidation.” “2. Betrayal of Humanity: Immediate liquidation.” “3. Internal Violence: Soul Refining Penalty for minor offenses; liquidation for major offenses.” “4. Collateral Damage to Civilians: Soul Refining Penalty or liquidation.” “5. Sexual Misconduct and Theft: Soul Refining Penalty or liquidation.” “6. Abuse of Authority: Soul Refining Penalty or liquidation.” “7. Negligence Causing Financial Loss: Soul Refining Penalty.” “8. Hostile Takeover of Colleagues’ Assets (Killing for Treasure): Soul Refining Penalty or liquidation.” “9. Collusion: Soul Refining Penalty or liquidation.” “10. Desertion: Soul Refining Penalty.”

“These ten policies will be engraved on a monument in the central plaza. Compliance is mandatory for all staff, from entry-level to executive.”

Jin Jue scoffed. “Killing for treasure is the industry standard! The strong eat the weak. Why punish ambition?”

Sun Yi looked at him with pity. “That mindset creates a toxic workplace culture. If staff are killing each other for bonuses, how can we build a cohesive team? I want a unified corporate identity, not a battle royale.”

He looked back at the Patriarch. Qingxuan was smiling. He was an ethical investor at heart, and these rules aligned with his personal brand.

“Approved,” Qingxuan said. “What else?”

“Financial Restructuring,” Sun Yi announced. “I am eliminating the Universal Basic Income.”

The room went dead silent.

“What?” Jin Jue gasped. “You’re cutting our salaries?”

“I am abolishing the monthly allowance system,” Sun Yi clarified. “No more free spirit stones. No more free pills. The era of the ‘Iron Rice Bowl’ is over.”

The Elders looked ready to riot. This was cutting their arteries.

“We are shifting to a Performance-Based Compensation model,” Sun Yi continued, ignoring their rage. “I will implement a ‘Points System.’ All disciples—regardless of tenure or rank—start at zero. There will be no more Inner, Outer, or Servant distinctions. Everyone is an Associate.”

“You want resources? You earn Points.”

Sun Yi outlined his vision: “We will construct three ‘Battle Towers’—simulations for Qi Refining, Foundation Establishment, and Golden Core. You earn Points by clearing floors. The stronger you are, the more you earn. We gamify the growth process.”

“This encourages active development,” Sun Yi argued. “We will publish a leaderboard. Top performers get bonuses. Underperformers get nothing.”

“Naive!” Jin Jue shouted. “You can’t treat geniuses and trash the same! Top talent demands top perks!”

“Top talent is often lazy,” Sun Yi countered. “Talent just means high potential and low burn rate. It doesn’t guarantee loyalty or output. In this market, hungry underdogs often outperform complacent elites.”

“By leveling the playing field, we force the ‘geniuses’ to work for their dinner. If they lose to a ‘common’ disciple, the shame alone will drive them to improve. Whether they become a dragon or a worm depends on their hustle, not their pedigree.”

Qingxuan nodded slowly. “Meritocracy. I like it.”

Sun Yi grinned. The pitch is landing.

“Furthermore,” Sun Yi added, dropping the real innovation. “We will digitize all sect assets. Every pill, every manual, every hour of mentorship will have a Point value. This liquidity allows us to launch a new product: Micro-Loans.”

“Loans?” The Elders blinked.

“We lend Points to high-potential disciples,” Sun Yi explained. “They use the capital to buy resources, level up, and increase their earning power. Then, they repay the principal plus interest. It creates a revenue cycle.”

The Elders’ eyes widened. They weren’t stupid; they understood predatory lending when they heard it. It was… brilliant.

“Finally,” Sun Yi said, delivering the coup de grâce, “I will dissolve the current management structure. All executive positions are vacant effective immediately.”

The five Elders turned purple.

“I will hire new managers based on KPIs, not seniority,” Sun Yi said. “Managers will be audited every five years. High performers get stock options. Low performers get demoted. The core philosophy is simple: The capable rise, the incompetent fall.”

Qingxuan laughed, a genuine sound of amusement. “Interesting. Very interesting.”

He looked at Sun Yi with approval. The kid was proposing a professional management layer to replace the feudal warlord system.

He’s applying Earth corporate logic to a cultivation sect, Sun Yi thought, suppressing a grin. If the Patriarch buys this, I’m not just the Sect Leader. I’m the CEO of the first cultivation mega-corp.

“Patriarch,” Sun Yi said, bowing. “With your backing, I can turn Qingyun into a unicorn.”

Qingxuan waved his hand. “One year. I give you one year to prove this ‘Reform’ works.”

The deal was closed.