"I can accept being transmigrated into another world… but into a world like this?"
He forced himself to breathe, to push down the heat clawing beneath until his pulse steadied.
Opening the manual again, his eyes traced the passages with new clarity. The truth hit him like a hammer.
"This isn't a normal technique… it's a Dual Cultivation method," he whispered.
Pieces began to fit together.
The Kunlun Sect's so-called leader, who had been stuck in the Qi Condensation 10th layer for two decades… it suddenly made sense.
If his advancement required partners strong enough to push him through to Foundation Establishment, then no wonder he had been stuck.
A man his age, no longer young or desirable, would struggle to attract women powerful enough to lift him any higher.
At best, he might still be middle-aged. At worst… already decaying in both body and potential.
The thought left a sour taste in Zhao Yan's mouth. He shook his head sharply, as if to drive out the image, when suddenly—
A hand fell on his shoulder.
Zhao Yan turned, recognizing the young man who had sneered at him back in the dormitory. The boy was now standing beside him, his tone casual as he asked, "Yes?"
"Nothing much," the youth replied with a sly grin.
"I was just wondering… did you already fall into Qi Deviation?"
Zhao Yan frowned. "What do you mean?"
The boy leaned in, lowering his voice, almost as if he were sharing a secret meant to unsettle.
"Well, if you offer yourself to one of the female outer disciples, they'll be able to stabilize your Qi. It won't be pleasant… in fact, it might be rough for you. But it works."
A chill crept over Zhao Yan's skin. "Are you saying—"
"Exactly," the boy cut in smoothly.
"My father once told me, most of Kunlun Sect's true power lies with the women."
"Among the five elders, two are female, and nearly all the inner and direct disciples are women."
He smirked, watching Zhao Yan's reaction.
"The sect master cultivates with the female elders, and in turn, the female elders use him. That's how they maintain their strength."
Zhao Yan's stomach twisted, but the boy wasn't finished.
"This dormitory is built on the same principle. The hierarchy feeds off itself—direct disciples drain the inner ones, inner disciples drain the outer ones, and outer disciples… well, they use us." His smile turned cruel. "We're their cauldrons, their vessels. They pour their impurities into us, cleansing themselves in the process."
He tilted his head, voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "So, if you're desperate to break through… find a woman to cultivate with. It's the fastest way."
Zhao Yan stared at him, suspicion written across his face. "Why are you even telling me this? And what about you?"
The boy scratched his neck, looking suddenly bashful. "Well… actually, I have got an invitation."
"A female outer disciple from the first floor asked for me." His voice lowered, almost sheepish.
"I was kind of hoping you'd come along too. You know… it's my first time."
Zhao Yan's thoughts cracked like thunder. Heat surged through his skull, and he instinctively folded his arms across his body as though warding off some unseen attack.
"I—no, I can't… actually…" Words tangled on his tongue, each one harder to force out than the last.
His chest tightened, his mind screaming at the absurdity of it all. Desperation seized him, and he blurted the only excuse he could grasp.
"I—I have cleaning duty!"
Before the boy could answer, Zhao Yan spun on his heel and bolted across the courtyard. His frantic footsteps echoed as though he were fleeing for his very soul.
Behind him, the young boy blinked in mild confusion, watching Zhao Yan's awkward retreat.
A faint smile touched his lips as he muttered, "So shy… Must be an innocent one."
Turning back toward the dormitory, his eyes landed on Shen Hao lingering near the entrance.
With a tilt of his head, he asked casually, "Would you like to join me instead?"
Shen Hao's lips curled into a knowing smile.
Without hesitation, he nodded, and the two of them made their way up toward the first floor together.
...
Zhao Yan staggered into the courtyard, chest heaving as though he had just outrun death itself.
The open ground did nothing to calm him; the night air only sharpened the burning thrum of dissipating Qi within his body.
He pressed a hand to his chest, whispering through clenched teeth, "That technique… it's too dangerous."
Even now, he could feel the lingering instability swirling in his meridians.
There was a warning written inside the book—if the technique was practiced for a long time without a partner, then the body itself might rupture from within.
The thought alone sent a chill crawling down his spine.
"I need to test my aptitude first," he muttered, trying to steady his thoughts.
He hadn't forgotten what the others had bragged about: all of them had passed the so-called aptitude test through bribing.
Zhao Yan, on the other hand, had slipped through the gates of Kunlun Sect with nothing but flattery and luck.
Turning his head, he caught sight of the boy from earlier clasping hands with Shen Hao.
The two exchanged a grin before disappearing back inside the dormitory together.
Zhao Yan's lips twisted into a grim line.
'This… this isn't a righteous sect at all. This is a demonic sect.'
His voice dropped to a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would draw something down upon him.
"I have to get out."
The words had barely left his mouth when a voice rumbled behind him, close enough to make his skin crawl.
"Why do you want to leave?"
Zhao Yan jolted, heart lurching violently as he stumbled a step forward.
Whipping around, he found himself staring into the round face of a fat man who had somehow appeared without a sound.
The man's eyes narrowed with casual recognition, and his tone carried the weight of ownership.
"Aren't you the beggar I recruited today?"
Zhao Yan quickly cupped his hands and bowed low, forcing his voice into the most respectful tone he could muster.
"Immortal Master! I am indeed the beggar you recruited today."
The fat man's face lit up with a broad smile, his cheeks dimpling as he clapped his hands together.
"Good, good! If you run into trouble, come to me. Whatever the problem, I can solve it."
Zhao Yan kept his forehead bent toward the ground, though inside his mind a sharper thought took root. 'This is my chance.'
Remaining in his bow, he spoke again, his voice laced with feigned humility.
"Immortal Master, after today, I've realized just how utterly untalented I am. I wish to return to what I know best… to live by begging."
The fat man's smile faltered. His lips twitched as if the words had soured on his tongue.
"Begging? You want to make a living by begging?"