Data-Driven Cultivation: I Defy Heaven and Overthrow Interstellar Domestication

The chamber was small, its four walls sealed tightly with stone, not even a wisp of wind could get in. Two fist-sized moonstones were embedded in the corner, emitting a soft white light that barely illuminated the small space. Xie Yanchen sat cross-legged on the polished futon in the center, his eyes closed, his breathing slow and deliberate.

The proposed solution projected from the terminal appeared in his mind, with the meridian pathways, blocked points, and the timing of spiritual energy distribution clearly marked. He spent three whole days meticulously reviewing every detail, going through all the steps to ensure there were no oversights before finally deciding to take action.

It wasn't an impulse.

It's been three years; he's been waiting for this day for three years.

Xie Yanchen took a deep breath, feeling the rich spiritual energy in the secret room as still as water. This was a cultivation room specially prepared for the disciples guarding the library on the ground floor. It was a secluded place, undisturbed, yet the purity of the spiritual energy was unexpectedly high.

He didn't rush to start, but first let his body completely relax. His shoulders, back, and waist, the tense muscles loosened inch by inch, and his whole body was like a tea cake being soaked in warm water, slowly unfolding.

Then, he activated the first wisp of spiritual energy.

It was a very thin wisp, so thin that it was almost invisible. Unlike other cultivators who seemed to want to swallow it whole, he simply introduced a wisp from the tip of his nose, slowly letting it sink into his dantian, and then pushing it forward little by little along his meridians.

The foundation of having his spiritual root destroyed over three years wasn't for nothing. Xie Yanchen knew all too well the state of his meridians—they were blocked everywhere, some so thick they were barely thicker than a needle tip. In the past, when he tried to force his qi to circulate, it always felt like someone was scraping his meridians with a dull knife; it was both astringent and painful, and the blockage would dissipate halfway through.

But this time is different.

The terminal markers pinpointed every single detail, allowing him to know exactly how much force to apply to each meridian, how to slow down at each bend, and how to stop at each node. The spiritual energy no longer forced its way in, but rather seeped in like clear water seeping into parched soil, slowly and steadily permeating the ground.

The first stage is silt removal.

  

The impurities accumulated over three years were all stuck in the nooks and crannies of his meridians and dantian. Some were leftover medicinal residue from the initial spiritual root testing, some were fragments of spiritual energy forced out during forced cultivation, and some were simply mixed energies stripped from the damaged spiritual root itself. With all this jumbled mess mixed together, forget about cultivation; even the circulation of qi and blood was half a beat slower than normal.

Xie Yanchen controlled his spiritual energy, starting from his dantian, first flowing through the Du meridian, then the Ren meridian, and so on. At each blockage point, he didn't rush to flush it away, but instead used his spiritual energy to repeatedly soak and wash it, like washing a long-dirty old garment, once or twice, until the gray-black impurities were squeezed out bit by bit from the pores.

The substance seeped out of his skin, sticky and with a stale, sour smell. Soon, a thin layer of gray film covered his body, making him look dirty, but with each drop that seeped out, his meridians felt a little more relaxed.

This feeling of relief was so subtle that most people probably wouldn't even notice it. But Xie Yanchen could feel it—because he knew all too well what it felt like to be "blocked." The sensation of his meridians suddenly becoming clearer and his spiritual energy flowing through without any obstruction was like finally exhaling air that had been held in for a long time.

He wasn't greatly disturbed; he simply continued steadily.

After clearing the blockage, the next step is to regulate the pulse.

The most troublesome thing about having a useless spiritual root isn't the slow cultivation speed, but the complete mixing of the five elements. The five spiritual energies of metal, wood, water, fire, and earth each move independently within the body, refusing to yield to each other, and sometimes even clashing with one another. Xie Yanchen once cultivated a basic wood-elemental technique, but the fire-elemental spiritual energy in his dantian exploded. That time, he was in so much pain that he curled up on the ground for half an hour, and for the next half month, he dared not draw any more qi into his body.

These conflicting spiritual energies now need to be reorganized. The solution provided by the terminal is to disperse all the five elements of spiritual energy and then rearrange and integrate them in the order of mutual generation: wood generates fire, fire generates earth, earth generates metal, metal generates water, and water generates wood, forming a complete closed loop.

Xie Yanchen moved cautiously. The process of breaking it apart was very painful, like untangling an already messy ball of hemp thread. His dantian was churning, and fine beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, trickling down his brow bone and staining his clothes with a small dark patch.

He didn't say anything.

After three years of being a useless nobody, what was this little pain? The dilapidated house where the outer disciples lived leaked wind in winter and rain in summer, and he gritted his teeth and endured it for countless nights. Compared to the suffocation and despair that seeped into his bones, this physical pain was utterly insignificant.

After being scattered, they recombine. Following the order of mutual generation, one element supports another, slowly forming a stable cycle in the dantian. Wood-elemental spiritual energy generates fire-elemental energy, fire-elemental energy generates earth-elemental energy, earth-elemental energy generates metal-elemental energy, metal-elemental energy generates water-elemental energy, and water-elemental energy returns to nourish wood-elemental energy. After one cycle, the hostility between the five elements of spiritual energy diminishes significantly, and they begin to become orderly and disciplined.

After completing this step, Xie Yanchen's back was completely soaked. The light from the moonstone reflected on his face, making his complexion appear somewhat pale, but his expression was calm, even carrying a hint of relaxation.

The most difficult step, and also the final step, is root shaping.

This is the most difficult and crucial part of the entire root-remodeling plan. The damaged spiritual roots from the first three years are essentially scattered and fragmented, like a cracked wall. The spiritual energy cannot be stored or stabilized; even a little accumulation will leak out through the cracks. What needs to be done now is to mend these cracks and reshape the scattered spiritual root structure into a whole.

Xie Yanchen mobilized all the spiritual energy he could muster, slowly sinking it into the location of his spiritual root's origin. It was a place difficult to describe in words; it wasn't in his dantian or meridians, yet it connected to the very foundation of his entire cultivation system. His useless spiritual root was entrenched there, like a crooked tree, its roots sprawling haphazardly, its branches intertwined, its form ugly and weak.

The moment the spiritual energy enveloped him, a sharp, agonizing pain surged from the deepest part of his body. Xie Yanchen groaned, clenching his teeth, his cheeks bulging with hard muscles. He desperately suppressed the trembling in his body, forcing himself to focus on controlling the spiritual energy.

To bridge, to organize, to reshape.

Every movement was shockingly slow. Spiritual roots are the foundation of a cultivator, allowing no room for carelessness. He'd rather spend ten times the time for a single, safe step than rush and injure himself. This principle was taught to him three years ago on that rainy night by his former senior brother, the one who guarded the pavilion—"Cultivation isn't about who rushes the fastest, it's about who lives the longest."

That senior brother himself didn't have good spiritual roots. He spent ten years sullen in the library and eventually left. There wasn't even anyone to see him off. Xie Yanchen remembered his hunched back disappearing into the rain, like a withered leaf blown away by the wind.

You can't live like that.

Under the influence of spiritual energy, the scattered spiritual root structure began to slowly shrink and condense. The excess branches were peeled away one by one, the twisted roots were straightened little by little, and the cracks were repeatedly filled with spiritual energy. The whole process was like carving a piece of rough jade dug from the depths of the earth. Its exterior was rough and ugly, but with each layer that was polished away, the inner quality was revealed.

Time passed slowly, and no sound could be heard in the secret chamber except for Xie Yanchen's occasional heavier breathing. The white light of the moonstone seemed to have dimmed a little, a sign of depleted spiritual energy. But outside the secret chamber, the sky had unknowingly turned from midnight to dawn.

Xie Yanchen didn't know exactly how much time had passed; his entire mind was focused deep within his spiritual root, completely shut out from the outside world. He only felt that the originally scattered and chaotic spiritual root was becoming increasingly dense and transparent.

The moment the last crack closed, he suddenly felt a sense of lightness.

That lightness wasn't physical, but a kind of relief that permeated from the inside out. It was as if he had always been carrying an invisible burden, one that he had grown accustomed to, and only now, having unloaded it, did he suddenly realize how long he had been carrying it.

The spiritual energy in his dantian began to circulate on its own, no longer requiring his deliberate guidance. That spiritual energy was so pure that even he himself felt a little unfamiliar with it. Previously, the spiritual energy in his body was turbid and cumbersome, flowing like dragging a cart of mud; now it was as light as snowmelt in a mountain stream, clear, smooth, and with a cool and comfortable feel.

The twelve hours of tempering finally came to fruition at dawn.

Xie Yanchen opened his eyes, a faint glint of light flashing in them before disappearing. He looked down at the back of his hand, where a thin layer of dried, grayish-black impurities covered his skin; it crumbled into powder and fell off with a rub.

He didn't rush to wipe it, but first sensed the condition in his dantian.

His spiritual energy was still flowing, steady and abundant. Although he was still at the Qi Refining Realm, his foundation was completely different from what it had been twelve hours ago. He gently clenched his fist, his knuckles making a crisp cracking sound. The sense of power traveled from his fingertips to his arm, solid and steady, no longer the superficial strength he had shown before.

Pseudo-single spiritual root.

From a useless spiritual root with mixed elements to a pure and clear foundation, others rely on talent, but he relied on perseverance. Three years to cultivate a strong foundation, twelve hours to undergo a transformation.

Xie Yanchen stood up, his knees making a soft creak; his joints were stiff from sitting cross-legged for too long. He bent down and patted the dust off his legs, then casually rubbed off the grime on his body before walking to the basin in the corner and splashing cool water on his face.

The cold water splashed on his face, dispelling most of his drowsiness. He looked up at himself in the water's reflection. He hadn't changed; it was still the same face, with plain features and nothing particularly striking. But the gloomy complexion that had weighed on his brow for three years had faded away, and the light in his eyes was clearer than before.

He wiped the water off his face with his sleeve, straightened his clothes, and resumed his unremarkable appearance as an outer disciple. His aura was completely concealed, and the spiritual root phenomenon was suppressed. From the outside, he was still that useless spiritual root boy who did odd jobs in the library, with mediocre cultivation and nothing outstanding.

Not urgent.

Xie Yanchen walked to the stone gate and pushed open the heavy stone slab.

Morning light streamed through the window of the library, slanting across his shoulders with the cool, clear air characteristic of the early morning. He squinted, adjusting his eyes to the light, then stepped outside.

In the courtyard outside the library, people were already waiting.

Several outer disciples stood scattered under the corridor, some with their arms crossed, others leaning against pillars. When they saw Xie Yanchen come out of the secret room, their eyes all turned to him.

Those gazes held a variety of emotions—probing, resentment, and the sizing up of prey. News of his deciphering of the Foundation Establishment fragment had already spread a couple of days ago. Some were envious, some didn't believe it, and others were simply there for the spectacle, wanting to see what tricks this notoriously useless spiritual root was up to.

Xie Yanchen remained calm and walked unhurriedly through the group of people in the corridor, as if he hadn't seen anything.

The eyes behind him were following him, but he didn't turn around.

The morning light shone on his back, casting a long shadow. Three years of being a good-for-nothing were over; he carefully noted down what needed to be done next. No rush, take it slow.