The catch was… his cultivation level hadn't risen much at all. Even after four hours of practice with the newly synthesized technique, he was still stuck at the first stage of Root Vein.
Sure, his Qi pool felt a little denser, and his veins had widened ever so slightly, but there was no earth-shattering breakthrough, no sudden leap forward like in those novels he used to read back on Earth.
When Aiva finally released control and his consciousness snapped back, Lin Chen opened his eyes with a weary sigh.
"…As expected. This body's talent is really trash," he muttered, shaking his head in frustration.
"Even with a technique that's a hundred times more efficient, I'm still crawling like a snail while those so-called geniuses are already flying around on swords, flirting with fairies, and pretending the heavens revolve around them."
"No. If I rely on talent alone, I'll rot here. I need another method."
Lin Chen knew the truth in his bones. With his natural aptitude, breaking through to the next realm could easily take six months, maybe even a year.
"That is unacceptable," Lin Chen muttered darkly. "If I'm already struggling at the early stage, then in the future I'll need decades just to break through to the major realms."
Lin Chen began to pace slowly across the room, rubbing his chin. On the surface he might look like a clueless newcomer—after all, it had only been three days since he landed in this world—but on Earth, he had devoured countless cultivation novels.
Maybe, just maybe, one of those crazy ideas could actually work here.
And then it hit him like a spark.
"Aiva," he said firmly, eyes sharpening. "Automatic cultivation. Without affecting body functions or conscious activity."
Normally, cultivation required sitting in meditation, focusing on breathing, and absorbing the Essence Qi from the air—or, if one was lucky enough, refining pills. But what if…?
What if his body could cultivate nonstop, like a background process on a computer?
Eating, sleeping, walking, even chatting—while his mind was busy with life, his body would quietly be cultivating on its own, endlessly drawing in Essence Qi.
He couldn't do that, not with human limitations. But Aiva? Aiva could.
Basically, he wanted 24/7 passive cultivation, like breathing. He might not be talented… but he could at least be persistent nonstop.
[Analysis: Conducting Feasibility]
Seconds later—
[Function Possible.]
[I can independently run the Cultivation Manual and continuously absorb Essence Qi. However, because you restricted usage to avoid disrupting bodily functions, total efficiency is reduced to 50%.]
[Do you still wish to enable this function: Auto-Practicing?]
"Fifty percent is still better than zero," Lin Chen said, smirking. "Okay. Enable it."
[Auto-Practicing Function: Activated.]
With that settled, a slow grin spread across his face. Automatic cultivation would buy him time — steady, boring, relentless progress while he did everything else.
But even as relief washed over him, a darker worry nagged at the back of his mind: talent hadn't changed. If his body stayed the same, he would inevitably hit a ceiling in the future.
"Hey, Aiva," he asked, his voice low, testing the possibility. "Since you can control my body completely, can't you… modify my body talent? Make me—better? Faster? Anything?"
There was a pause, and then Aiva answered plainly
[Negative. Although I can modify bodily processes, I lack comparative data on how native cultivators' bodies differ from yours, and I do not understand the exact biological or metaphysical mechanisms that constitute 'talent' in this world.]
[Without that data, any modification risks introducing defects or fatal side effects.]
Lin Chen's smile dropped. "So… you can't just buff me into a genius." He let out a short, bitter laugh. "Figures. Nothing good comes easily."
He leaned forward, curiosity pricking again. "Then how would you get that data? Could we collect it somehow? Scan someone stronger? Learn from them?"
[Slicing is the current method I know of. Acquiring tissue samples and cross-referencing energetic signatures provides the data set required for targeted modification.]
The word hit him like a cold shower. "Slicing?" He pictured the worst. The sentence landed heavy: Aiva's "slicing" wasn't talking about vegetables.
Lin Chen felt a chill. The idea of cutting into living people to harvest data—no. He wasn't ready to become that kind of monster. Maybe he can do that to his future enemies, but not now. No slicing.
---
Like that, two days have passed.
Lin Chen finished all the Spirit Rice, and with Aiva running auto-cultivation nonstop, he finally broke through to the second stage of Root Vein realm.
How could he not? He'd eaten every last grain of Spirit Rice he had, and he had to admit—it really helped him push through.
He glanced at the empty rice pouch in the corner and sighed. "Well, that's the end of the free meal plan."
Outer disciples didn't get much in the way of free resources like the inner disciples did. If he wanted more Spirit Rice or even a handful of low-grade Qi pills, he had to earn them.
Sure, the sect handed out a monthly ration of Spirit Rice, but now Lin Chen was certain it wouldn't do him much good anymore.
As cultivation increased, the amount of Essence Qi needed for each breakthrough only grew larger—it was like trying to fill a river with a cup of water.
He slipped into his new outer disciple robes, tied the cloth bag to his back, and hooked his identity token to his waist.
"In this sect, even survival has a price tag," he grumbled. "No work, no improvement."
That's how the Starfall Sword Sect operates. Disciples completed missions—guard duty, errands, spirit beast cleanup, you name it—and earned rewards. The sect got results, and the disciples got resources. Fair deal, in that cold, heartless cultivator sort of way.
"I should head to the mission board," he muttered, stepping out of his little room. "Let's find something simple."
His goal was clear: pick an easy mission, get some Spirit Rice or spirit stones, then stockpile a few Qi pills for cultivation.
When he arrived, the mission board was already surrounded by a crowd of outer disciples. Most of them looked stronger than him, their robes brighter, their weapons sharper, and their confidence thicker—probably all born with better luck too.
Lin Chen glanced down at his empty waist and sighed. He didn't even have a proper weapon. For heaven's sake, he is flat broke.
He squeezed into the crowd and scanned the wooden board.
"Hmm… eliminate a rampaging spirit boar? Nope. Subdue a wild Qi wolf? Definitely not. Escorting a merchant caravan through bandit-infested hills?"
He snorted under his breath. "Do these guys think we're immortal already?"
Most of the posted missions were combat-heavy—the kind that sent weak cultivators like him straight to the afterlife, or back to the Handyman Hall wrapped in a burial cloth.
He kept searching, eyes flicking from slip to slip, until finally he spotted something that didn't look like a death sentence.
"Gather Spiritdew Grass… hmm…"
The herb was low-level, commonly used in basic Qi-Gathering Pills. Not glamorous, but not deadly either.
"This one's more my speed," Lin Chen muttered, nodding as he plucked the mission slip off the board.
The Starfall Sword Sect was surrounded by mountains and forests rich in dense Essence Qi. Thanks to the dense Qi in the area, many herbs grew naturally—even if they were low-grade. All he had to do was head into the nearby woods, find some Spiritdew Grass, and bring it back.
After that, Lin Chen walked down the winding path and entered the forest, holding the mission paper in his hand. He looked at the sketch of the Spiritdew Grass printed on it, then glanced around at the sea of green around him.
"…Everything looks the same."
He squatted near a random bush, stared at a patch of grass, then looked back at the picture.
"Is this it?"
He plucked a blade of grass and sniffed it.
"…Nope. Smells like regular disappointment."
After wasting ten more minutes staring at weeds, Lin Chen sighed and rubbed his forehead.
Ten more minutes passed with him squinting, poking, and sniffing random weeds. Lin Chen rubbed his forehead and muttered, "I really suck at searching…" The Spiritdew Grass and ordinary weeds looked almost identical.
Then, like a spark of enlightenment, he suddenly had a bright idea.
"Wait—I have Aiva!"
"Search for Spiritdew Grass. Time limit: 2 hours."
[Initiating the search.]
Just like that, Lin Chen lost control of his body. Aiva took over, scanning the area with machine-like movements.
Lin Chen's body moved swiftly but calmly, checking under rocks, beside tree roots, near patches of moss—searching with the accuracy of a seasoned herbalist.
If someone saw him, they'd think he was some silent forest expert instead of a barely-qualified outer disciple with zero herb knowledge.
"Ah… this is life," Lin Chen thought from inside his own head, stretching his consciousness like a cat. "I just let Aiva do all the work while I… relax."
*****
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