Resource Allocation

The Liu family resource hall occupied a three-story building near the clan's heart, its walls reinforced with preservation formations that kept pills fresh for decades. Zǔ Zhòu entered with his newly upgraded access token—third place in the competition had its privileges.

"Young Master Wei," the elder managing distribution barely glanced up from his ledgers. "Your monthly allocation has been updated. Third-tier access to pills, training grounds, and... special requisitions."

"Special requisitions?"

"Personnel, primarily. Third place grants you selection rights from the servant markets. Up to twenty individuals for 'cultivation assistance.'" The elder's tone suggested this was standard—wealthy disciples often required attendants for menial tasks.

Perfect cover for expansion.

"I'll need specific types," Zǔ Zhòu said, producing a prepared list. "Individuals with minor bloodline variations, spiritual mutations, or cultivation deviations that make them unsuitable for standard service."

The elder's eyebrows rose. "Unusual requirements. Such servants are typically... problematic."

"My temporal cultivation methods might benefit from studying various spiritual conditions. Academic interest."

"Hmm." The elder made notes. "The Azure Cloud slave market holds auction every seventh day. Your status grants priority selection. Budget of three thousand spirit stones for personnel acquisition."

After collecting his standard resources—pills that would genuinely aid cultivation, spirit stones for energy needs—Zǔ Zhòu made his way to a different destination. The eastern wing of the manor held sections fallen into disuse, avoided by servants who whispered of strange sounds and cold spots.

Perfect for his needs.

The abandoned area had once housed a branch family that died out three generations ago. Their quarters remained technically Liu property but practically forgotten—dust-covered hallways, empty rooms, and most importantly, no regular patrols.

"Structural assessment," he told his anchor servant as they explored. "I need cultivation chambers that can be modified without drawing attention."

They found ideal space in the former patriarch's hall—a large chamber with reinforced walls and existing formation anchors. The old protective arrays had failed, but their infrastructure remained.

"Begin modifications immediately," he instructed. "But first, we need the specialized servants."

The Azure Cloud slave market operated in the city's grey district, where law bent to accommodate necessity. The building smelled of desperation and spirit-suppressing formations. Hundreds of individuals stood in warded cells, ranging from debt-slaves to captured cultivators.

Zǔ Zhòu ignored the main offerings, heading to the "defective" section. Here were the unwanted—those with conditions that made standard service impossible.

"Young Master seeks unusual servants?" The merchant, a greasy man with calculating eyes, rubbed his hands together. "I have several that might interest. Reduced prices for their... complications."

The first candidate stood hunched in her cell, skin covered in slowly shifting patterns. "Yang Mei," the merchant explained. "Bloodline mutation from her grandmother's liaison with a Mirage Fox spirit. The patterns respond to emotional states—makes her useless for public service."

Zǔ Zhòu studied the woman. Mid-twenties, cultivation crippled at Body Tempering First Stage, eyes holding the particular deadness of those who'd accepted their fate. When he projected killing intent, the patterns on her skin flared into warnings—reds and blacks swirling like living ink.

"Useful. Price?"

"Fifty spirit stones. She's been returned twice—the patterns disturb other servants."

"Sold."

Next came a young man whose shadow moved independently of his body. "Wu Chen. Born during a lunar eclipse while his mother sheltered in a ghost temple. The shadow sometimes acts against his will—minor poltergeist activity."

Indeed, the shadow was currently making obscene gestures while Wu Chen stood perfectly still, face flushed with embarrassment.

"Twenty stones," the merchant said quickly. "He's strong, good worker, but the shadow... incidents happen."

"I'll take him."

They proceeded through the selection. Twin sisters who shared sensation across distance—torture one, both felt it. A former cultivator whose attempt to forcefully break through had left him experiencing time at half speed. A woman whose tears crystallized into stones that induced sadness in anyone who touched them.

"Seventeen individuals," Zǔ Zhòu tallied. "One thousand spirit stones total."

"A pleasure doing business," the merchant grinned. "Though I must ask—what use could you have for such defectives?"

"Academic study. Their conditions might provide insights into cultivation variations."

Half-truth. He would study them—specifically, how their unique conditions could be weaponized for suffering generation.

Back at the manor, he had the new servants housed in the abandoned wing. They looked confused but grateful—better mysterious employment than the slave market's cells.

"Your duties will be explained tomorrow," he told them. "Tonight, rest. Recover. You're under Liu family protection now."

They dispersed to assigned quarters, hope flickering in some eyes. That hope would make the eventual betrayal so much sweeter.

"Now for the true work," he told his anchor servant.

They returned to the chosen cultivation chamber. The space was twenty meters square, stone walls intact, qi flow acceptable. But Zǔ Zhòu envisioned something far more sophisticated than a meditation room.

"The Temporal Demon manual describes formations that feed on ambient emotional energy," he explained, beginning to draw patterns on the floor. "Combined with my research into suffering sustainability, we can create a cultivation accelerator that appears benign."

The formation took shape over hours of careful work. The outer ring appeared standard—qi gathering arrays any wealthy cultivator might install. The middle ring showed temporal acceleration patterns, explainable by his known manual. But the inner ring, disguised beneath the others, was pure innovation.

"Suffering Condensation Array," he named it. "Emotions shed during cultivation—frustration, pain, desperation—normally dissipate. This formation captures and processes them into usable energy."

"The cultivator won't notice?"

"They'll feel the cultivation acceleration and assume it's from the temporal aspects. Meanwhile, their own suffering fuels the process. The harder they push, the more frustration they generate, the faster the array works."

He tested it himself first, settling into meditation at the array's center. As he cycled qi through challenging patterns, he felt the formation activate. Each moment of strain, each flash of discomfort from pushing his limits, seemed to evaporate—drawn into the array and converted to pure energy that accelerated his cultivation.

"Efficiency rate: 60% emotional energy capture," he noted afterward. "Can be improved with refinement."

The true test came the next day. He invited Liu Ting to try his "new cultivation chamber," presenting it as generous sharing of resources.

"The formation helps with temporal techniques," he explained. "But any cultivation method should benefit."

She entered eagerly, still glowing from his public praise. As she settled into meditation, Zǔ Zhòu monitored from outside. The array activated subtly, beginning its harvest.

Liu Ting pushed herself hard, trying to live up to his praise. Each struggle with a difficult technique, each moment of self-doubt, fed the array. She emerged two hours later, exhausted but elated.

"My cultivation speed doubled! Wei'er, this is incredible!"

"I'm glad it helped. You're welcome to use it weekly—though more might strain your foundations."

She left grateful, never realizing she'd just powered her own exploitation. The array had collected enough emotional energy to fuel Zǔ Zhòu's cultivation for three days.

"Sustainable evil perfected," he noted. "They suffer to cultivate faster, their suffering fuels my cultivation, making them grateful for the opportunity."

Over the following week, he refined both systems. The specialized servants were assigned tasks that utilized their conditions:

Yang Mei became an emotional monitor, her skin patterns warning of mental states Wu Chen's shadow was trained to perform minor sabotage while he remained blameless The twin sisters were separated, one tortured to affect the other at distance The temporal-shifted man became a perfect spy, experiencing conversations twice

Each servant thought they were performing simple tasks. None realized they were components in a larger suffering-generation system.

The cultivation chamber became secretly famous among disciples. Zǔ Zhòu carefully controlled access—making it seem like a favor, building gratitude and dependency. Each user fed the array with their struggles, accelerating his own advancement without their knowledge.

"Resource allocation optimized," he told his servant while reviewing progress. "Competition rewards transformed into self-sustaining infrastructure."

"The specialized servants seem particularly effective."

"Because they're pre-broken. Their conditions already separate them from normal humanity. Easier to reshape something already cracked." He smiled coldly. "By month's end, I'll have twenty cultivation batteries who thank me for the privilege."

He stood in his new domain—the abandoned wing slowly transformed into a hidden empire. Cultivation chambers that fed on suffering. Servants whose unique conditions became tools of torment. All disguised as the eccentric experiments of a temporal cultivation enthusiast.

"Phase one complete," he decided. "Now to expand. The main array proves the concept. Time to install smaller versions throughout the manor—meditation cushions, training equipment, anywhere disciples experience regular frustration."

The resource allocation had exceeded all projections. Third place in a competition had become the foundation for a suffering-powered cultivation empire, and everyone involved thought they were benefiting.

"Thank you, Liu family," he whispered to the walls. "Your generosity in resources will be repaid in ways you can't imagine."

The abandoned wing hummed with new purpose. Soon, the entire manor would unknowingly feed his advancement, one frustrated cultivation session at a time.