The Strongest Cultivator Is a System Maker!

"Hahahahaha!" Hengsheng laughed uncontrollably, basking in the euphoria of his discovery. He had found a way to cheat the laws of the cultivation world. But his triumph was short-lived as something felt off.

Suddenly, his stomach growled fiercely, an empty ache spreading through his body. In an instant, he collapsed to the ground, his strength drained completely. Hengsheng's face turned pale as he clutched his stomach.

"What's happening?!" he muttered through gritted teeth, struggling to make sense of the sudden weakness. His sharp mind kicked into gear, deducing the likely cause. So, the cheat comes with a cost after all. No wonder the system didn't fully materialize or display all its features. It only showed my name...

Helpless, Hengsheng forced himself to sit upright, crawling toward the chair in his chamber. He felt like he hadn't eaten in days, even though breakfast had been just two hours ago. Hunger consumed him, and with no other option, he called out to his servant with all the strength he could muster.

"Lan Ju! Bring me a meal! A lot of it!" Hengsheng shouted hoarsely.

"Yes, Young Master!" Lan Ju replied promptly from outside the chamber.

Before long, the door opened, and Lan Ju entered, carrying a small banquet's worth of dishes. The servant placed the food on the table and, hearing Hengsheng's stomach growl audibly, stifled a smile.

Hengsheng felt his cheeks flush slightly in embarrassment but waved his servant away impatiently. "Leave me," he said. "I'll eat alone."

Lan Ju bowed and retreated from the room, closing the door behind him. Hengsheng wasted no time digging into the feast. Manners forgotten he devoured the food like a starved animal, the gnawing ache in his stomach driving him to eat more than he ever thought possible.

Fifteen minutes later, the table was empty, and Hengsheng leaned back in his chair, feeling bloated but finally sated. Wiping his mouth, he let out a sigh of relief.

I can't keep this up, he thought, his earlier excitement now tempered with caution. If using my cheat drains me like this every time, my body won't survive long. The body is the foundation of everything in this world. Even a minor injury can cripple a cultivator's potential.

Hengsheng considered his next steps carefully. He couldn't afford to be reckless. Creating a system to assist me seems feasible, but I'll need to ensure it works efficiently in the real world without draining me to the brink of collapse. If this world demands careful planning to succeed, then so be it.

Resolved, Hengsheng began brainstorming how to design a system that would not only help him cheat the natural order but also function seamlessly within the limitations of his mortal body.

Hengsheng, now full from his meal, stood up and walked to his bed. He lay down and closed his eyes, entering the mind space with a familiar sensation. Woop! In an instant, he was surrounded by the endless white void. Here, his ability to wish was unrestricted, granting him access to unparalleled possibilities.

Hengsheng focused, activating his enhanced intellect. He began considering the first issue at hand—how to fully utilize this mind space. The logical first step was understanding its limits. "Let's test this," he murmured, making a wish.

The answer came swiftly: "There is no limit. The only boundaries are your imagination and knowledge. Everything here will manifest according to your will."

So that's how it is, Hengsheng thought, his suspicions confirmed. If he could imagine the strongest being, he could become that powerful in this space. But the next question loomed: could he bring anything from the mind space into the real world, like his increased intelligence or the incomplete system?

He made another wish, and the answer revealed itself: "Yes, but everything brought into the real world must adhere to its laws. There will also be a cost—energy, treasure, or equivalent exchange."

It made sense. If he wanted to bring the overwhelming strength of his strongest self into the cultivation world, he would need either to surpass that power himself or to possess the energy required to sustain it. Without these conditions, such a wish would be impossible.

However, more modest changes, like a portion of his enhanced intelligence, were viable. The cost was low, and such an optimization wasn't against the laws of heaven. In the eyes of heaven, improving his intelligence was akin to refining his mind—nothing that disrupted the natural order.

Similarly, for the system, heaven would interpret it as 'a technique'—a construct powered by his mind and body energy—rather than something magical entity, or something that violated its rules.

Hengsheng couldn't help but smirk, satisfied with the clarity of the answers. This simplified everything. Now, he knew the steps he had to take to re-enter the battlefield of this world and fight for immortality!

The first step was fixing his core issue—literally. Without a Spirit Core, he couldn't hold spiritual qi within his body, the defining trait that separated mortals from cultivators.

Hengsheng recalled the knowledge imparted by the clan teacher about Spirit Cores. These cores were categorized by both quality and type. Quality ranged from Mortal, Earth, Heaven, to Divine, with each level representing an exponential increase in a core's ability to absorb qi from the environment, harmonize with the heavens, and enhance the user's comprehension of dao or qi alignment.

Types were based on affinity, enabling cores to specialize in certain qi or dao paths. The weakest and most common was the Neutral Core, Mortal Grade, which had no affinity and the slowest qi absorption rate. Cultivators with this type of core would struggle to progress, often requiring their entire lifespan to reach the next realm. Such individuals were typically overlooked by sects and clans, forced to walk the path of loose cultivators without the resources to succeed.

At the pinnacle of cores lay the Chaos Core, Divine Grade. This extraordinary core granted the holder an affinity with all types of qi, the highest absorption rate, and unparalleled comprehension speed. Cultivators with this type of core had cultivation speeds tens of thousands of times faster than those with the weakest cores. With such a core, ascension to immortality was almost guaranteed—if they could survive the inevitable challenges and dangers along the way.

Hengsheng's goal was simple: to create a system that would help him form a Spirit Core. He couldn't create a core instantly; the energy required was far beyond his current means. Instead, he resolved to build it gradually, little by little feeding the process through food or natural treasure.

His first desire was to form a Divine Chaos Core, but a quick calculation revealed the grim reality—it would take him millions of years, even with constant energy input. Using his wish ability, Hengsheng deduced the most optimal path forward.

The results were clear. A Mortal Neutral Core would only take seven years to form, giving him a workable starting point. However, he aimed higher. A Mortal Metal Core, which would take ten years to form, would be far more advantageous. The Golden Pillar Continent was abundant in metal qi, allowing him to cultivate at speeds comparable to someone with an Earth-quality core. With ten years before others, his age began their cultivation journey, the decision was obvious.

With his plan set, Hengsheng immediately wished for the creation of a system to form the core.

Ding!

[Mortal Metal Spirit Core formation processing: 10 years 00:00:00]

Hengsheng felt a warm sensation bloom in his lower abdomen, the area where the Spirit Core would eventually form. He closed his eyes, returned to the real world, and focused on observing himself. Sure enough, the warmth persisted. He willed the system panel to appear, confirming its operation.

Ding!

[Mortal Metal Spirit Core formation processing: 9 years 365:23:58]

A grin spread across Hengsheng's face. His plan was working. He had finally found a way to cheat the heavens! However, his triumphant moment was cut short as a familiar sensation struck—his energy was being drained. Not all at once, but gradually, just as he had designed.

The realization hit him: "I've literally programmed my own suffering."

"Lan Ju! Get me more meals!" Hengsheng bellowed, his voice echoing dramatically through the chamber.

"Yes, Young Master!" Lan Ju replied, though her tone carried a subtle undertone of confusion. After all, the young master had just eaten his breakfast meal a while ago. What on earth was wrong with him now?

Lan Ju's POV

Yesterday had been nothing short of a spectacle. The once-glorious young master, heralded as a prodigy destined to lead the clan, was revealed to be... just a mortal. Lan Ju couldn't help but laugh internally at the cruel joke heaven had played. Who would have thought the same child who strutted around like he was better than everyone else would fall so hard? And not even while walking the path of cultivation—he didn't even get to start!

At first, she had been thrilled to be assigned as the young master's caretaker. It was supposed to be an opportunity, a stroke of fortune for someone like her from a minor branch of the Lan Clan. But now? That dream had shattered faster than her hope of ever advancing in the clan. Secretly, she cursed her luck.

"Why, young master, why did you have to be just a mortal?!"

Despite her resentment, she stopped herself from mocking him outright. After all, he was still just a five-year-old child. This must have been the biggest blow he'd ever faced in his short life.

When the young master returned from Mistress Wang's chamber, his expression had been... strange. A smile tugged at his lips, as though he'd completely forgotten the disaster of yesterday.

But it didn't stop there. Later, loud, crazed laughter echoed from his chamber, followed by shouting. Lan Ju almost went in to check on him, but he had strictly instructed her not to disturb him. Then came another round of laughter, even more manic than the first.

Shaking her head, she murmured to herself, "The young master's completely lost it. Poor thing."

"Lan Ju! Bring me a meal! A lot of it!" the young master suddenly screamed.

Lan Ju blinked, baffled. He had just eaten a mountain of food not long ago. Still, she quickly responded, "Yes, young master!"

No matter what his current status, she was still his servant. Acting outside her role would only bring her trouble. She hurried to fetch what he'd demanded and returned with another feast. When she stepped out of the chamber after delivering it, she could hear sounds coming from within—like a pig devouring its food without a shred of decorum.

She winced. "He's really lost it."

Moments later, another shout came: "Lan Ju! More food!"

This time, she was certain. He's gone completely mad.

Looking up at the ceiling, Lan Ju sighed deeply, her shoulders sagging. "Why... why is this my destiny?"