Meng Yi’s plan is brilliant.

Utterly insane, mind you, but brilliant. And like all insane but brilliant plans, it is simple but necessarily layered.

See, there are things called hidden realms in this world, which are basically pocket dimensions that spontaneously pop up and disappear in entirely random locations.

Since these hidden realms are… well, hidden, and, in proper xianxia fashion, the older certain plants get, the more powerful they become, these hidden realms are oftentimes treasure troves of cultivator resources.

At least, that’s the popular opinion. An opinion so popular, in fact, that, according to Meng Yi, virtually every fictional story about an underdog cultivator reaching for the heavens and seeking vengeance on the young masters who hurt them, always starts with the underdog hero stumbling upon a hidden realm.

In the eyes of most people, even cultivators, finding a hidden realm is a life-changing blessing.

Naturally, of course, the truth is a lot less exciting.

While there are hidden realms, and while some of them are life-changing treasure troves, the keyword there, is some.

Most hidden realms are simple, ordinary spaces that are really no different from anywhere else.

That doesn’t matter though. What matters is that there are hidden realms with great treasures in them, and that’s the first layer of Meng Yi’s plan.

The second layer was kindly provided by Xian Qigang, the idiot who threw a tantrum and got himself lost in the mountains for six days.

The same idiot who, due to embarrassment, had kept mum about the events that took place up on that mountain, even though everyone knew that the idiot had simply gotten himself lost.

For the third layer of Meng Yi’s plan, there is a very, very valuable fruit called a celestial plum.

Celestial plums are, as I understand it, fruits of enlightenment.

Supposedly, even a single bite from a beast ranked one, can help a peasant ranked cultivator breakthrough into the Qi Realm.

Meng Yi doesn’t know if that’s true (seeing as the fruit is largely wrapped in legend and hearsay), but she does know that celestial plums are invaluable, rare to the point of nonexistence, and their power, especially at the higher ranks, is considered to be virtually limitless.

Most importantly though, is that there are rumors that, enlightenment, especially when forced in the manner that the celestial plum does, can sometimes have side effects on the mind. Side effects that can adversely affect memory… and even personality.

I imagine you see already where this is going.

Rounding out the foundation of Meng Yi’s plan is The Path of The Sun Emperor Cultivation Manual given to me by my rolling power.

See, first Meng Yi will clear out the mansion, telling all the employees that Young Master Xian Qigang needs privacy for some closed-door cultivation.

Then, I’ll learn the noble rank cultivation method as quickly as I can, within which time, Meng Yi will ensure word leaks that my journey into the mountains hadn’t been as fruitless as I’d led everyone to believe.

No, in fact, I’d chanced upon a hidden realm, and within it found a great treasure, a noble rank celestial plum.

Eating it had granted me the enlightenment to improve my cultivation by two ranks, but alas, the side effects had left me a whole new man.

Le gasp! What horror.

Honestly, I’m dubious about this whole thing, but, as they say, beggars can’t be choosers, and I must admit that this is the best way for me to learn the noble rank cultivation and not have to act like a total git.

I just hope people buy it.

Within two hours of deciding on the plan, the mansion has been emptied of personnel and sealed, and, for the first time since I woke up in the body of Xian Qigang, Meng Yi lets me move around the place at my leisure.

Unfortunately, we have a plan, and it has a timetable, so we skip the tour and focus on work.

Neither of us know how long the effects of a noble rank celestial plum will last, but we figure the quicker we finish, the more believable this will be.

Meng Yi takes me to a small, windowless room in the house lit with candles that burn with a blue flame.

In the center of the room, a stone circle of about eight feet in diameter sits on the ground.

The stone circle itself is about a foot in height and width, and glowing silver veins pulse round and round it, a little like strobe lights.

“That’s a cultivation circle,” Meng Yi says. “It aids in cultivation, especially in the Weaving phase. It protects your meridians from being overwhelmed by the qi of the manual.”

“Is that what happened to me yesterday?” I ask, remembering how my body had felt like death warmed over.

Meng Yi nods. “This is only peasant rank,” she admits. “But it should be better than nothing.”

Hmm. Peasant rank, huh?

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I reach out and place a finger on the cultivation circle.

It’s cold to the touch, and I feel qi of the potency that I’m starting to recognize as peasant rank.

That’s not what I’m looking for though.

1 – 500 (Beast Rank)

501 – 800 (Peasant Rank)

801 – 950 (Sage Rank)

951 – 999 (Noble Rank)

1000 (Divine Rank)

Roll: Yes || No

That’s what I’m looking for.

Roll, I decide.

Rolling…

293 (Beast Rank)

Reward: Nil

I tsk, then, curious and hopeful, try again.

Failure

Cannot roll same item twice.

I tsk again.

Oh well, can’t blame a bloke for trying.

“Young Master?” Meng Yi asks curiously.

“Oh, sorry, just… checking something out,” I say.

Carefully, I step over the circle and into its center, sitting down in a lazy man’s lotus pose (with legs loose).

I look around.

“I don’t feel any different,” I say.

“You’re not supposed to,” Meng Yi says.

Opening the box of peasant ranked qi pills we’d picked up from the treasury on our way here (the box of peasant ranked qi pills that I’d somehow missed last time I was there likely thanks to all the gold), Meng Yi picks out a single jade pill and hands it to me.

“Sixteen left,” she says, closing the box and stashing it inside her robes. “Let’s hope it’ll be enough.”

I roll for the pill.

Rolling…

977 (Noble Rank)

Reward: Noble Rank Xian Refinement Method Qi Pill

My eyes widen.

Whoa. That’s certainly a reward. And wait, Xian refinement method?

“Did my family make this qi pill?” I ask Meng Yi, holding up the peasant rank pill to her.

“Yes,” she says. “The Xian refinement method is the best qi pill refinement method on the market as I understand it; over twelve percent more effective than second best.

“Your mother created it a hundred and fifty years ago, and it’s how your family made their wealth and earned The Sunrise Empress’ favour.”

I gape at her words.

“Wait, so my mother is over a hundred years old!?” I ask.

“The Xian matriarch is a Domain rank cultivator, Young Master,” Meng Yi says. “Having a child in her second century of life is hardly noteworthy.”

I gape harder.

I mean, intellectually, I know I’m in a xianxia world, but to have it smack me in the face like this, really puts things into perspective in ways that I hadn’t considered before.

Shaking off the thought after a moment, I swallow the peasant rank pill, feeling the flood of energy rush through me.

Meng Yi hands me the Path of The Sun Emperor Cultivation Manual.

“I’ll pull you out in six hours,” she promises.

I nod, then with an arming breath, I open the purple book and force myself to focus on the blood red words.

—❈—

The following days are a blur for me; wake, eat, bathe, take a pill, cultivate, take another pill, eat, sleep, wake, rinse and repeat.

From the very first session using the cultivation circle, and taking a pill before and after cultivating, I notice the difference.

Peasant rank or not, the cultivation circle is worth its weight in gold, and I notice immediately that, between it, the pills, and the shorter sessions, my body is handling cultivating the noble rank method much better than in my first disastrous attempt.

…Well, no, actually.

My body is holding up well, true, but I’m not cultivating the Path of The Sun Emperor method. In truth, I’ve barely made any progress. And I think I know why.

Session after session, day after day, I’ve played it safe, going for six hours and no more, but that’s not what the Path of The Sun Emperor is about. Not even close.

“Last pill,” Meng Yi says, holding it out to me.

This is the ninth cultivating session I’ve done. There had been seventeen pills in the box when we started, and with two being used per session, there’s now only one left.

Well, there’s only one pill left in the box. Since, seeing as I’ve rolled for every pill I’ve taken and the dice gods have been… decent to me, I’ve actually got ten qi pills of varying rank in whatever hammerspace the rolling power stashes my rewards.

Apparently, rolling the rank of the item I’m rolling for gives me an exact replica of that item, so, with my rolls so far, I now have three peasant rank, three sage rank, and four noble rank Xian refinement method qi pills in my reward space.

I could give these to Meng Yi, but then she would want to know where I got them, and while I’m pretty sure that she’ll respect my wishes if I choose not to say, I can’t keep betting on that forever…

Then again, does it really matter?

With everything Meng Yi already knows and is helping me with, does keeping the reward power secret even make any real difference?

Besides, I have a plan to ensure that this is the last session I spend trying to learn the Path of The Sun Emperor, and if I succeed, cultivation circle or not, I’m pretty sure I’m going to need a qi pill. A noble rank one, no less.

Am I really going to deprive myself of something I need, something that will help my well-being, simply to hide something from someone who already knows enough of my secrets to screw me three times over if she wanted to?

Looking at the pill in my hand, I roll for it.

1 – 500 (Beast Rank)

501 – 800 (Peasant Rank)

801 – 950 (Sage Rank)

951 – 999 (Noble Rank)

1000 (Divine Rank)

—

Rolling…

501 (Peasant Rank)

Reward: Peasant Rank Xian Refinement Method Qi Pill

Huh, just on the mark.

That’s nice. I mean, it’s no noble rank, but it’s definitely better than nothing.

I throw the pill in my hand into my mouth, feeling the familiar rush of energy it immediately melts into.

Meng Yi hands me the cultivation manual.

I take it.

“Is something the matter?” she asks after a moment of me staring at her.

“The qi pill box,” I say. “Open it.”

She looks at me strangely, but without question, she obeys.

I hold out a hand over it.

“Don’t pull me out this time,” I say. “The Path of The Sun Emperor isn’t something that can be learned by playing it safe. You have to commit; do or die. Through or burn. I am an Emperor, and my crown is the sun.”

I open my hand and drop four noble rank qi pills into the box.

“I’ll be needing those when I’m done,” I say to the wide-eyed Meng Yi, then, with the ease of practice, I open the cultivation manual, focus on the words, and, after what is either a minute or a century, I become the sun.