Cultivating in Reverse: My Sign-In System Wants Me Dead

For the next hour, workstation number four effectively turned into a corporate boardroom.

In the background, a rhythmic explosion would echo through the hall every ten minutes as Ji Ruyue continued her alchemy.

They completely ignored the hazardous workplace environment and treated the deafening blasts as simple background office noise.

Elder Qin was entirely captivated by the Transcendent Grade pill. His eyes practically glowed with spiritual light.

He explained that Verdant Peak’s Peak Master was currently locked in deep seclusion, manufacturing high-grade pills for the some Elders’ upcoming breakthroughs. Therefore, Elder Qin had full executive authority to negotiate on the Peak’s behalf.

"Martial Nephew Su," Elder Qin’s voice trembled with excitement. "Meng’er has already informed me of your desire for a discreet exchange of resources. Verdant Peak is more than willing to accommodate this."

Elder Qin laid out the terms of the B2B (Business-to-Business) contract:

• Supply Chain: Verdant Peak would provide 100% of the raw materials, herbs, and cauldron maintenance for free.

• Distribution: The sect’s logistics network would handle all marketing, sales, and distribution.

• Profit Sharing: After deducting the base cost of the raw materials, the net profit of the Transcendent pills would be split. 30% to the sect, and a massive 70% directly to Su Bai.

Su Bai maintained his poker face but internally, he was reeling in profound shock.

’Seventy percent?!’ Su Bai screamed in his mind.

In the corporate world, receiving a 70% net revenue share while the company fronted the entire R&D budget, covered all overhead costs, and handled the entire sales pipeline was an absolute fantasy. It was an unprecedented, golden parachute of a contract. He was going to be swimming in Spirit Stones.

"Your Junior Sister advocated fiercely for you," Elder Qin chuckled, stroking his beard. "She stated that if we granted you the grandmaster-level seventy-percent split, she would personally increase her own monthly refinement quota by twenty percent to offset the Peak’s operational costs."

Su Bai felt a sudden, intense wave of warmth in his chest.

Liu Meng, the girl who could crush her entire monthly KPI in a single afternoon, had just volunteered to take on extra workload purely to secure his bonus.

’You are a true corporate god, Meng,’ Su Bai thought. His respect for his Junior Sister just shot into the stratosphere. She was the ultimate team player.

He didn’t know that to Liu Meng, a 20% increase in her quota just meant she had to stay at her workstation for an extra hour before clocking out for a three-week vacation.

"I humbly accept the Peak’s generosity," Su Bai bowed politely.

"Excellent," Elder Qin beamed. "However, to protect the market value of your creations, we must strictly control the supply. Flooding the sect with Transcendent pills will only invite unwanted scrutiny and cause inflation. You shall craft one batch a week."

"Artificial scarcity," Su Bai nodded in perfect understanding. "A wise market strategy."

"Furthermore," Elder Qin added, "using this heaven-defying technique on a mere Lesser Qi-Gathering Pill is a tragic waste of potential. Meng’er, you will teach your Senior Brother Su higher-tier recipes immediately."

"Yes, Master!" Liu Meng cheered happily.

Su Bai felt incredible. He had secured his supply chain, established his market dominance, and his logistics were fully subsidized. It was the absolute best terms a corporate slave could ever ask for.

Just as they were about to finalize the paperwork, something entirely unexpected occurred.

The rhythmic, ten-minute explosions suddenly stopped.

A profound, radiating chill swept through the Alchemy Hall. It carried a terrifying stillness. Su Bai, Elder Qin, and Liu Meng all turned toward workstation number two.

Ji Ruyue was standing perfectly still.

Hovering above her completely frozen cauldron was a perfectly round, crystalline pill.

She stared at it like a statue. Even though her face remained completely flat, her eyes seemed to contain a microscopic tremor of emotion.

Everyone in the room froze.

’That... isn’t possible,’ Su Bai gulped.

Ji Ruyue had an Ice Spirit Root. But... she had just successfully condensed a pill. Something structurally impossible for her hardware.

Su Bai’s analytical brain immediately broke down how she had bypassed the system. It was brilliant. No wonder she was so ruthlessly insistent on learning his method. She hadn’t been looking for a direct copy, she had been looking for inspiration!

Normally, a Wood Root was required for alchemy because the alchemist needed to "empathize" with the plant, gently coaxing its life force out.

Ji Ruyue didn’t empathize with the plant at all.

Her Heartless Sutra stripped away all human emotion, anxiety, and hesitation, turning her mind into a flawless, icy mirror. She didn’t "feel" the plant. She coldly and clinically observed its spiritual wavelength like a heartless surgeon watching a flatlining ECG monitor. She waited for the exact, mathematical microsecond the herb’s life force peaked, and because she had zero hesitation, she struck with absolute precision.

When Su Bai had told her to "stop boiling water and start freezing time," he had given her the exact missing line of code her software needed.

"Incredible..." Elder Qin muttered. He rushed over to inspect the miracle. "An Ice Root successfully condensing a pill. This defies all known logic—!"

Elder Qin stepped up to the freezing pill. He reached out with his divine sense to appraise its quality.

Suddenly, the Elder’s face fell. The excitement drained from his eyes, replaced by profound disappointment.

"Ah..." Elder Qin sighed heavily. "A tragedy."

Ji Ruyue’s eyes snapped to him.

"You succeeded in the Condensation phase, Martial Niece," Elder Qin explained softly. "However... the pill is entirely corrupted. Your root simply cannot mimic what a Fire Root does. The Extreme Yin of your Ice Qi has violently inverted the foundational properties of the herbs."

Elder Qin pointed to the beautiful sapphire pill.

"A normal Lesser Qi-Gathering Pill acts like a warm, expanding magnet," the Elder lectured. "When swallowed, it creates a gentle vortex inside the Dantian that pulls ambient, life-giving Qi from the air into the cultivator’s body."

He shook his head sadly.

"By injecting an opposing Qi, you have reversed the pill’s foundational flow. If a cultivator swallows this, it will not gather ambient Qi. The vortex will run backward."

Liu Meng gasped in horror. "It would act like a black hole!"

"Exactly," Elder Qin nodded grimly. "It will violently suck all the warmth, Qi, and life-force out of their own meridians, freezing their Dantian solid from the inside out. It is technically doing exactly what a ’Gathering Pill’ should do but it is gathering the cultivator’s life instead of the environment’s Qi."

It was no longer a Qi-Gathering Pill. It was a Qi-Devouring Pill.

In other words, it was a highly lethal bio-weapon. A complete and utter failure of orthodox alchemy.

Ji Ruyue’s brows furrowed by a fraction of a millimeter. She was visibly conflicted. After thousands of explosive failures, she had finally solved the formula, only to realize she naturally produced poison.

However, standing a few feet away, Su Bai didn’t see a failure at all.

He stared at the highly lethal, perfectly condensed, Qi-Devouring suicide pill hovering over the cauldron. His heart began to beat wildly against his ribs.