The system's thousandfold critical return had manifested.
There were two ways these rewards took shape:
One, like the Evil-Repelling Sword Manual—physical manuals that could be studied, gifted, or hoarded as one pleased.
The other—what had just occurred—was a direct transmission.
A stream of power, knowledge, intent, and structure. Delivered in an instant.
Unfiltered and undiluted.
In the span of a single breath, Riven had fully absorbed the Sunflower Manual.
Not just memorized it. Understood it.
Every posture. Every meridian pathway. Every dangerous deviation and every clever workaround.
It was as if the original creator had sat across from him, personally guiding him through every page—every stroke of the brush, every unspoken principle between the lines.
Like a teacher feeding knowledge spoonful by spoonful, there was no struggle to reach understanding, no confusion. Just pure absorption.
It was fast, efficient, and flawless.
But speed had its cost.
It left behind no process.
He now knew what to do—every technique, every method—but not always why.
There was no journey of discovery. No natural comprehension formed through trial and error.
The result?
Clarity without flexibility. Precision without insight.
And for many martial arts, this would be a very… very dangerous pitfall.
But internal arts were different.
In internal martial cultivation, hard logic was often more important than one's own adaptation.
The Sunflower Manual, in particular, was built on the transmission of will.
The creator's intent was embedded in every phrase, and Riven now carried that with him—etched into his very bones.
The drawback of missing comprehension?
Negligible here.
He could still perform each movement with exactness, still circulate the qi with razor-sharp control.
Because it wasn't his understanding he needed—it was the original creator's. Now refined even further by the system.
And that had already been delivered.
He recalled something—
A familiar feeling from old studies he did as a wannabe scholar.
Like reading comprehension questions in an imperial exam.
Where students overanalyzed a passage, drawing meanings never intended by the author—until the answer drifted farther and farther from the truth.
Now, Riven didn't need to guess.
Martial arts cultivation methods had always followed a similar pattern.
On the surface, they appeared methodical. Straightforward.
But in truth, they were filled with riddles.
Esoteric phrases. Cryptic metaphors. Vague diagrams. Often left behind by masters who either couldn't explain themselves or didn't want to.
And when practitioners lacked patience or understanding—or worse, had too much of both—they often made wild, dangerous guesses.
Each theory sounded reasonable. Each was wrong.
A refined cultivation method slowly twisted into a corrupted path, from a gentle river to a venomous stream.
...
Riven stopped visualizing the flawless Sunflower Manual and let out a slow breath.
"Exchanging that incomplete Evil-Repelling Sword Manual for this?" he muttered with a smirk. "Ridiculously profitable."
He'd completely absorbed it by now.
And the more he understood, the more he realized—
This thing… was made for men.
'The creator is ridiculously talented and should have been quite resourceful too. Probably from a supreme dynasty… maybe not even in this realm,' he thought.
The original version had been compiled in secrecy by an unnamed eunuch of an imperial palace, driven by a desperate desire to grow back his manhood
He had studied countless imperial scrolls, deciphered ancient diagrams, and built a system focused entirely on rebuilding yang essence from scratch.
Unfortunately, while his theory was ambitious, his own cultivation was shallow. And thus his understanding is incomplete.
He proposed brilliant ideas—outlined transformative methods—but left the final steps unresolved.
The manual was riddled with unrefined puzzles, unanswered questions, and dangerous ambiguities.
But now…
Riven held the perfected version in his hands.
Every flaw mended. Every contradiction resolved.
Once mastered, the manual reconstructed the body into an acquired Pure Yang Martial Body, not a single bit different from the natural one.
A constitution that strengthened every martial path that followed.
Every technique learned afterward would take root faster. Deeper. Stronger.
And then there was the other effect…
That constitution radiated a kind of instinctive, natural charm.
A presence.
A magnetism.
Walking sunlight. Walking trouble.
'Guess I just got sexier…. Jie Jie Jie', he couldn't help it and let out a retarded evil chuckle in his head.
...
Peony Manor
Mid-August, just days before the Mid-Autumn Festival.
The estate was buzzing.
Servants were stringing up red lanterns and hanging paper streamers from the rooftops. Music from zithers and bamboo flutes echoed softly through the courtyards.
The air was heavy with the scent of chrysanthemums.
Under the cool shade of the bamboo grove, in a courtyard ringed by flowering trees, sixteen sword maids clashed in a rapid formation—surrounding one girl at the center.
Selene Virelyn.
The blades flickered like silver light, moving in perfect rhythm.
Their synchronized footwork had been drilled for years—an elegant, deadly formation passed down through generations of training.
These maids weren't ornamental. Each had been adopted into the household from the streets, raised by Madam Virelyn, and trained from childhood in swordwork and basic cultivation.
They were elite. Fearless in death.
Together, their combined sword formation could stand toe-to-toe with an early veteran innate cultivator.
But Selene was different.
She moved through them like wind through reeds. Calm, precise, never flustered.
She had studied each of them while fighting.
Knew their stances. Their timing. Their habits.
Her fighting style didn't depend on overpowering her opponent/s but on outreading them.
Her counters landed just before their attacks finished forming.
She spun on her heel and kicked the sword maiden's wrist just before she planted herself for a firm swing of her sword.
With a 'clang,' the sword fell. What followed was a straight kick to her abdomen.
Her dodges cut through their formation like an invisible thread.
This was her nature. Cautious, but graceful. She is quite frankly a control freak.
Soon, the maids began to stagger. One fell. Then another.
Within minutes, all sixteen were defeated—panting, glistening with sweat, yet smiling. There was no shame. They knew the gap.
"Alright, that's enough for today."
Madam Virelyn clapped her hands, signaling the end of the match. She was seated nearby on a carved wooden chair, dressed in a lightweight yellow chiffon robe embroidered with golden camellias.
The heat hadn't yet left the southern provinces, and indoors, comfort trumped formality.
Selene approached, her lotus-colored robe light and unadorned, her silver ribbon fluttering softly in the wind.
Even in motion, she looked like a painting.
Her face still carried the innocence of youth, but her eyes now held clarity.
"You've gotten better," Madam Virelyn said, offering her a glass of fruit juice.
"Your flaw is like running water. Without a break in the momentum. Always reading ahead of your opponent."
Selene accepted the cup and gave a small smile. "I've made some progress, mother. But I'm still just short of opening my Sun and Moon veins."
Madam Virelyn nodded and gestured for her to sit.
"Don't rush. Those things come with time."
She leaned back, crossing one leg over the other, eyes narrowing in thought.
"Look. In the innate realm, apart from the final realm… You've got three big stages:
Heaven and Earth Foundation, Spirit Harmonizing and Energy Channeling, Self-Image Insight."
She pointed at the ground beneath their feet.
"Heaven and Earth Foundation is your starting point. Everyone talks as if it's simple, as if achieving the innate is the big step, and then it's a breeze.
But…this step is building yourself a strong base. This step will determine how closely you are connected to the world in all the next steps.
The Heaven and Earth Foundation is a connector of sorts that connects your innate life-form to the natural world.
It will decide your talent, your elemental affinity, how deep you see through the world, and even… err… hmm.. no, that's all you need to know."
When she was about to go on with the rest, she forcefully stopped herself and explained only the essential information Selene needed right now.
"In the big sects, disciples train for years on just that—internal breathing, physical refinement, meridian control. That's why they fly past bottlenecks later."
She gestured toward her daughter again.
"Now, the Sun and Moon veins—Heaven and Earth Bridges. Once you break through those two, internal and external qi connect. It's a game-changer."
She paused.
"People usually get through it one of three ways. Either you stack enough internal force to punch through naturally, though it takes years…
Or you take a miracle-grade pill… or get help from a senior cultivator who transfers their energy into you."
Selene quietly absorbed the explanation, sipping her fruit juice.
Madam Virelyn smiled and gave her daughter a playful nudge.
"See, my girl… when I watched the way you moved through their attacks, the way you timed your counter strikes—I don't think that bottleneck's gonna give you much trouble."
Selene laughed softly. "You're just being nice, mother."
"I'm being honest," Madam Virelyn replied. "You've already done the hard part. When your energy's ready, it'll flow right through those bridges like a river in spring."
"Still," Madam Virelyn said suddenly, her tone shifting with a quiet firmness, "these maids aren't going to help you improve much longer."
Selene blinked. "Huh?"
Madam Virelyn sat straighter. "When it's time, I want you to spar with Murong Fu."
Selene froze mid-sip of her fruit juice. "Wait… what?"