If you force me to take the blame, I'll spend a day in jail and gain a year's worth of spi

After Qin Xuehua and the others left, the prison returned to its usual silence.

Zhang Yu sat cross-legged on the ground, but his heart was filled with an unprecedented tranquility.

His entire being was absorbed in the earth-shattering changes happening within his body.

The first thing you feel is the dantian (lower abdomen) and dantian (lower abdomen).

The internal energy surged like a mighty river, flowing endlessly.

Its power far exceeded his previous understanding of "sixth-rank" martial artists, and even faintly touched the threshold of seventh-rank.

Next comes the physical sensation.

Every muscle, every bone, and even every tiny fascia is brimming with explosive power.

This surge in pure physical strength brings an unparalleled sense of control and security.

However, what surprised and surprised Zhang Yu the most was the third kind of "power".

It is not stored in the dantian, nor is it contained in the flesh and blood, but rather it seems to permeate the depths of the entire consciousness, or rather, it is closely connected with his "spirit" and "intention".

This force is formless and intangible, yet it is real and undeniable.

"system,"

Zhang Yu silently asked himself, filled with intense curiosity, "What is this third power...? It doesn't seem to exist in my understanding of martial arts cultivation."

The system randomly selects:

This power is called the power of the soul, which involves the origin of life and spiritual sublimation. For ordinary martial artists in the current world, it is indeed beyond their comprehension.

Normally, only those who have reached the realm of "Land Immortals" can begin to touch upon and utilize this power.

"A land-based deity?"

Zhang Yu was shocked.

He had never heard of this title before.

In his understanding, in the Wei Kingdom where he lived, the ninth rank was the pinnacle of mortals, above which were extraordinary innate martial artists, and above that were martial arts grandmasters who were capable of establishing their own sects and dominating the country.

As far as he knew, in the vast Wei Kingdom, there were only three Grandmasters in charge, each of whom was a pillar of the country, and they were rarely seen.

As for the "Grandmaster," who is above the Grandmaster, he is already a legend, and only one such person appears once every hundred years.

As for this "land immortal"... he had never even heard of this name before.

The system seemed to understand his confusion, but didn't offer much explanation, simply adding: "The power of the soul has endless uses; its specific applications require the host to explore and comprehend them on their own."

Explore on your own?

Zhang Yu suppressed the shock in his heart and turned his attention back to his body.

He "saw" three completely different, yet subtly echoing, parallel and uncontradictory cultivation methods, like three ever-flowing rivers, which had been deeply imprinted on his meridians, acupoints, and even the depths of his consciousness.

A set of methods that focuses on cultivating internal energy, with a complex and profound path, involves circulating qi through the extraordinary meridians and focusing the mind on the dantian. Each circulation causes the "lake of internal energy" to ripple slightly, becoming more refined and condensed.

A set of training focuses on the physical body, with the route running through the limbs and bones, stimulating every inch of flesh and bone, constantly strengthening and tempering it, bringing waves of warm and comfortable sensations.

The last set is the most mysterious and obscure.

The route does not seem to run entirely within physical meridians, but rather involves some ineffable "apertures" and the flow of consciousness.

He had never encountered these three sets of techniques before, yet now it seemed as if he had practiced them diligently for countless years, and he knew them all by heart, operating them without any awkwardness.

"This is what the system calls 'a year of cultivation infusion'..."

Zhang Yu suddenly realized something, and at the same time, a huge wave surged up in his heart.

This is hardly the result of a year of hard training by an ordinary martial artist.

This is clearly based on the achievements of an unparalleled genius who, under optimal conditions, can attain after a year of arduous training.

Moreover, it is the result of simultaneous cultivation of three power systems: internal strength, physical body, and spirit.

An ordinary martial artist might spend their entire life specializing in one skill and still find it difficult to reach the top.

Thanks to a "bug" in the system, he started by cultivating three different paths simultaneously, a frighteningly high starting point, and he was cultivating top-tier techniques that he had never even heard of before.

No wonder that with just one year of cultivation, he went from a martial arts first-grade waste to the peak of the sixth grade, and even touched the threshold of the seventh grade.

Having figured all this out, Zhang Yu no longer felt any worry about the fifty-year sentence; instead, he was filled with unprecedented anticipation and excitement.

Fifty years, more than eighteen thousand days.

Every day, he receives a triple infusion of cultivation power, the result of "a peerless genius diligently cultivating a top-tier technique for a year".

What an incredible stroke of luck!

Suddenly, a voice came from next door.

"Hey, you over there."

It was Xiao Sheng, the heir apparent of Prince Jing.

Zhang Yu frowned almost imperceptibly, slowly opened his eyes, and looked at the person opposite him.

Xiao Sheng took a swig of wine, smacked his lips, and said slowly, "You lad, you're quite to my liking. You're patient, ruthless, and quick-witted."

He sat up straighter, his tone carrying a hint of condescension befitting someone in a superior position:

"Would you be interested in doing something for me?"

"Rest assured, following me, you'll be guaranteed high-ranking official positions, generous salaries, and a life of luxury—that's the bare minimum."

If Xiao Sheng's words were heard by any ordinary prisoner, or even any martial artist eager to curry favor with the powerful, they would undoubtedly be like a godsend.

The heir of Prince Jing, a member of the royal family, wields immense power. To gain his favor is truly an incredible stroke of luck.

However, Zhang Yu's expression didn't change as he listened quietly.

Xiao Sheng, seeing that he didn't immediately agree with gratitude, didn't mind at all. Instead, he found it even more interesting and continued:

"In that case, as long as you nod, I can think of a way to save you from this imprisonment."

Upon hearing this, the two beautiful maids serving nearby also showed expressions of pride, feeling that their young master was truly merciful and had given this down-on-his-luck young master an incredible stroke of luck.

To everyone's surprise, when Zhang Yu heard the words "spared from imprisonment," his eyelids twitched violently, and an alarm bell rang in his mind.

Released from prison?

Are you kidding me!

He finally managed to exploit a bug in the system, and just as he was beginning to reap the benefits, his physical body, internal strength, and spiritual power all surged, promising a bright future.

Should we let him out now?

Should we leave this "treasure trove of cultivation"?

Wouldn't he be losing money hand over fist?

What are high-ranking positions and generous salaries, what are beautiful women and precious treasures? They're nothing compared to the power that steadily grows every day and leads to the pinnacle.

Absolutely not, they must not be released from prison, no matter what.

He's determined to stay in this prison; even Jesus couldn't stop him, he said.

Although he was so anxious he almost jumped out of his skin, Zhang Yu showed no sign of it on his face.

He didn't even answer immediately, but lowered his head slightly, as if he was thinking seriously, but in reality he was calming down the "three consecutive rejections" that almost slipped out.

A moment later, he stood up, faced Xiao Sheng, and solemnly clasped his hands in greeting, saying, "Thank you for your kindness, Your Highness. Your Highness is of noble status, and it is my great honor to have your favor."

He paused, then said firmly:

"However, while I appreciate Your Highness's good intentions, I am truly unable to comply."

Xiao Sheng raised an eyebrow, seemingly surprised that Zhang Yu would refuse so decisively.

However, due to his status, he did not say much, but just snorted and ignored him.

The slightly older, more arrogant maid in green beside him couldn't hold back any longer.

In her view, it was already an immense favor that her young master had condescended to take in a criminal.

This prisoner not only showed no gratitude, but also refused outright, which was simply ungrateful and shameless.

Her eyebrows furrowed, she stepped forward, and reprimanded Zhang Yu:

"presumptuous!

Zhang Yu, who do you think you are?

His Highness thinks highly of you and points you in the right direction, but instead of being grateful, you keep making excuses.

Do they really think they're someone special?

You will definitely regret your decision today.

Another maid in pink also looked indignant, feeling that Zhang Yu was being incredibly tactless.

Zhang Yu seemed not to hear the maid's scolding, but simply bowed to Xiao Sheng again before sitting down again.

He closed his eyes, adopting a "my mind is made up, no need to say more" posture, but inwardly he was ranting and raving.

Regret?

I'm not regretting it!

In a few days, once my cultivation level has increased a few more times, it'll be hard to say who will be begging whom!

Xiao Sheng stared at Zhang Yu for a long time, then suddenly chuckled, lay back down, and took a big gulp of wine.

"That's enough."

He waved his hand and said to the still angry green-clad maid:

Everyone has their own ambitions, and you can't force them.

Since they look down on my humble abode and find this prison more comfortable than my royal palace, then so be it.

His tone seemed nonchalant, but the fleeting coldness and displeasure in his eyes revealed that this young master was not truly indifferent.

As the heir of Prince Jing, when had he ever been so "ungrateful" as to be rejected to his face?

Especially since the other party was a prisoner.

"snort!"

The maid in pink also huffed angrily, pouring wine for Xiao Sheng while glancing sideways at the opposite prison cell:

"Your Highness, you are too kind-hearted. People who don't appreciate kindness should be left to fend for themselves."

The maid in green chimed in, her tone laced with undisguised sarcasm and certainty:

"that is.

In my opinion, he's just young and impetuous, obsessed with saving face, and stubbornly clinging to his pitiful pride.

Let him stay in this dark, stinking prison for a few more days, and be tormented by those fierce prisoners and jailers, and see if he can still be as 'resolute' as he is today!

"At that time, they'll probably be crying and begging for mercy, regretting it so much that they won't even be able to see you, Your Highness."

The more she talked about it, the more convinced she became of it, as if she could already see Zhang Yu begging for mercy in the future, and a relieved smile appeared on her face.

Xiao Sheng listened to the two maids' words without refuting them. He simply took another swig of wine and a cryptic smile appeared on his lips.

"Perhaps."

He spoke softly, as if addressing a maid, yet also as if speaking to himself:

"Young people are full of youthful vigor, but they always have to suffer and hit a wall before they know to turn back."

This prison... is hardly a respectable place. I hope his "stubborn bones" can hold out for a few more days, and he doesn't disappoint me too much.

His words not only acknowledged the maids' judgment but also set a scenario for Zhang Yu's future "regret" and even carried a hint of anticipation for seeing him make a fool of himself.

He had already made up his mind that even if Zhang Yu couldn't bear the suffering in prison and changed his mind in the future, he would not give him any more chances.

Those who don't know how to appreciate kindness don't deserve Xiao Sheng's favor a second time.

The conversation between the master and servant, along with their undisguised contempt, mockery, and "prophecy," naturally reached Zhang Yu's ears without missing a single word.

Zhang Yu remained seated with his eyes closed, his breathing steady, as if he were an old monk in deep meditation, oblivious to all external noise.

However, beneath his calm and composed face, a chilling sarcasm stirred within him.

Regret?

Crying for their parents?

Begging to see you?

It's truly like a frog in a well, or a summer insect trying to understand ice.

You have no idea that what I'm doing isn't imprisonment, but a smooth path to supreme power.