Ling Yue reckoned the most absurd turn his life had ever taken was going from a System King who governed billions of data points to the master of a rundown sect who couldn't even afford three spirit stones.
And he was only at the first level of Qi Refining, too.
Behind him were two scrawny young disciples. Before him stood a drafty main hall, half a sack of sweet potatoes, and burly men from Blackwind Stronghold next door, showing up every day to collect their debts.
Luckily, the instinct for “analysis” carved into his soul was still there.
The Blackwind Stronghold chief's back feels heavy? Oh, his spiritual energy is congested, like data stuck in the System's backend. A couple of taps should fix it.
There's something strange about that pile of rocks on the back hill? Please. It's just an unfinished low-tier Spirit-Gathering Array. Patch up the markings and it'll work again.
Even when cultivators came to seize the “array core,” he could see right through them with a single glance. “There's a blocked spot three inches to the left of your dantian. You'll get winded if you fight. You sure you want to try?”
A Zhu held out a bowl of sweet potato porridge. “Sect Master, they say you don't seem like a cultivator. More like a fortune-teller.”
Shitou hefted his woodcutting knife. “Sect Master, Blackwind Stronghold has brought us more ore. They want you to revise their cultivation technique...”
Leaning against the newly repaired window frame, Ling Yue felt the Qingyun Array Core warming in his arms and watched the outsiders peeking in from beyond the sect gate. He smiled leisurely.
“Don't rush.”
“Let's fix up this rundown sect first, then show them...”
“The System King never follows the usual playbook in the cultivation world.”
