No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

Zhang Yu stared at his phone, which displayed an electronic agreement.

The contents were simple: it granted the top ten scorers in the Mana Tournament the right to use Limitless Cloud Hands, under the condition that it would not be redistributed or monetized in any form.

Standing next to him, Bai Zhenzhen tilted her head to read the agreement and muttered, “So stingy. Xianyun Group is such a huge company, and this is how they sponsor us? Only the top ten get access? Why not give it to everyone?”

Zhang Yu shook his head nonchalantly. “If everyone got it, wouldn’t that be unfair to the students who scored well?”

“I think even ten is too many. Feels like anyone ranked below fourth didn’t really grasp the questions properly.”

Bai Zhenzhen shot Zhang Yu a sideways glare.

You piece of…

Listen to this guy. Unfair to the top scorers? Below fourth didn’t grasp the questions? Does he hear himself? Zhang Yu, have you forgotten how just a month ago you were slamming the modern Immortal Dao education system? Where’s that righteous spirit of yours now?

She looked at Zhang Yu with deep disappointment.

Yuzi! My Yuzi is dead. The thing standing before me is just a test score-possessed husk!“Haha, Ah-Zhen, the prize money just hit.” Zhang Yu looked at his phone’s payment notification, barely able to keep from grinning like an AK recoil.

Fourth place in the tournament had earned him a solid 20,000 yuan. His balance now jumped past 63,000.

He clapped Bai Zhenzhen on the shoulder and declared, “Ah-Zhen, dinner’s on me when we get back to school.”

“Good boy!” Bai Zhenzhen beamed. “I knew you had a good root—wouldn’t forget your beginnings.”

Before long, the crowd began to disperse from the stadium.

Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen followed the rest of the Songyang High group toward the main gates.

Suddenly, a shadow dropped from the top of the stadium.

“What the—” Zhang Yu’s eyes sharpened. “That’s a person?”

Someone fell?

Just as the realization hit him, others on-site had already sprung into action.

Had this been an ordinary day, that jumper probably would’ve gone splat on the ground.

But right now, the stadium was packed with students, teachers, coaches, referees, and judges...

Many of them from Red Tower High School.

After all, “protecting the campus environment is everyone’s responsibility.”

The moment the figure began to fall, multiple bursts of Martial Qi shot forth, unfurling like cushions beneath the falling person, catching them safely.

Liang Qin, who had closed his eyes and accepted death, didn’t feel the bone-shattering pain he expected. Instead, it was like landing on a giant, soft bed.

When he opened his eyes, he found himself gently lowered to the ground, still suspended by a cloud of Martial Qi.

“Why’d you save me!”

Liang Qin looked around in anguish, showing not a trace of gratitude.

Just moments ago, during the tournament, he’d gambled away all his money—and even got a call from his dad demanding repayment. In that crushing despair, he’d chosen the jump.

The teacher who saved him wasn’t smiling either, just stated matter-of-factly, “This school does not permit jumping from buildings.”

“I’ve reported your case to the police. Someone will discuss compensation details with you soon...”

Liang Qin’s eyes flickered with renewed hopelessness. He hurried to defend himself: “I didn’t mean to jump! I slipped…”

The teacher replied coolly, “Slipped? So it’s accidental jumping then? Still costs money.”

Liang Qin boiled with rage, but recalling that terrifying Martial Qi, he clenched his fists and swallowed his fury.

“Fine. I’ll just find a new spot next time.”

Now calmer, Liang Qin began evaluating potential new jump sites—schools, hospitals, malls, residential complexes… all of them required compensation.

“This damn world—can’t even find a place to die for free.”

…

Meanwhile, the Songyang High students were nearly off-campus.

At this point, even a jump attempt wasn’t shocking to Zhang Yu. What caught his eye was how familiar the person wrapped in Martial Qi looked.

…

Songyang High.

Cafeteria.

Bai Zhenzhen bit into a chicken leg and with a satisfying crunch, devoured meat and bone alike.

In front of her sat a whole table full of meat—chicken, duck, fish—costing Zhang Yu over 400 yuan in total.

With their current cultivation levels and physical strength, even this spread was enough for a proper feast.

“Ah, nothing like the taste of school-prepped meals. That unmistakable freshness of being pulled from the freezer not long ago.”

After a bite, Bai Zhenzhen sighed, “Red Tower High’s boxed meals? You can taste the difference right away. Who knows how much synthetic junk they add.”

Zhang Yu was enjoying his food too, but his mind drifted to flavors from his past life. He said, “Ah-Zhen, when I’ve got the money, I’ll take you to eat something really good.”

“You mean the food-boost set on the second floor?”

Zhang Yu knew: for students at Songyang High—or really, any high schooler in Songyang City—“better food” meant meals that boosted cultivation and test scores.

As for taste? That was secondary. Or rather, a luxury most couldn’t afford.

To high schoolers, flavor was a luxury.

Zhang Yu didn’t bother explaining. “You’ll see when the time comes.”

Then he recalled something from the tournament. “Ah-Zhen, that set of moves you used in the last match—how did you figure it out?”

Bai Zhenzhen answered casually, “Didn’t the diagram show six moves?”

Zhang Yu was stunned. “It did?”

“Yeah.” Bai Zhenzhen thought for a second. “Isn’t it obvious?”

Zhang Yu looked at her in disbelief. She had to be cheating, right? He couldn’t understand how she saw that so easily. Maybe those ranked below 100 still had their merits after all.

But Bai Zhenzhen’s expression darkened. “I was desperate, okay? I figured maybe if I used martial moves, I could support the mana circulation method.”

“But it still didn’t work.”

Remembering how she struggled throughout the Mana Tournament, Bai Zhenzhen clenched her fists. She resolved to seriously study mana control from now on.

Then she looked back at Zhang Yu—today’s golden boy—and felt even more annoyed.

“Starting tomorrow, I’m going to remedial classes!”

I, Bai Zhenzhen, will not be outdone!

She asked, “You going to Ms. Yan’s class?”

Before they parted ways earlier, Ms. Yan had told both of them she’d be applying for school funding to open a remedial course based on their tournament results—and invited them to enroll.

Zhang Yu nodded. “Of course.”

Even though he placed fourth, Zhang Yu had acutely felt his shortcomings.

If he hadn’t picked up Limitless Cloud Hands from Bai Zhenzhen at the last minute, he wouldn’t have even cracked the top ten.

He wanted to get better at controlling mana—so that next time, he wouldn’t need luck to win.

Plus, if school funding came through, Ms. Yan’s course might even offer flying swords, techniques, and other perks. That got him excited.

Bai Zhenzhen’s lips curled into a smile. “Alright then, we’ll go see Old Yan together.”

…

Back home.

Zhang Yu didn’t cultivate the Desolate Ox Soul-Suppressing Heart Method like he usually did.

After all, his Feathered Tome was now specialized in Limitless Cloud Hands.

So he decided to use the time to grind out more levels in it.

He figured—with only six moves—this might level up even faster than Scattered Hand. Maybe he’d hit level ten in a single night.

Zhang Yu returned to the abandoned construction site.

Coming here felt like returning home. After all, he’d spent countless nights training here.

It was quiet, isolated, and perfect for intense training.

If it weren’t for already paying rent—and the lack of internet, electricity, and water—he would’ve moved in permanently.

He walked into a bare, gray-walled hall.

Zhang Yu focused. Mana surged from his dantian, passing through seven-stage amplification, transforming into thick clouds that flowed from his palms.

With Limitless Cloud Hands already at level 1, the way he converted mana into Martial Qi was far superior to anyone in today’s tournament.

As the mist-like energy coiled around his hands, Zhang Yu thought to himself: “Formless Cloud Qi, huh?”

Upon signing the electronic agreement, he’d received both the right to use the technique and a digital manual.

The real name of this Martial Qi was written inside.

Formless Cloud Qi—soft as mist, hard as steel. It excelled at redirecting and deflecting force. A versatile Martial Qi that could defend or attack.

Zhang Yu began practicing the six external martial moves of Limitless Cloud Hands.

With a punch, his white Formless Cloud Qi surged forth like a battering ram, howling with raw power.

That was its most aggressive move, meant for breaking enemy lines head-on.

Then his hands flowed gently, and the Formless Cloud Qi wrapped around him like layers of spring mist, elastic and soft.

This was the defensive move—able to deflect incoming force and even bounce some of it back.

In no time, Zhang Yu had cycled through all six moves. Then he repeated them again.

Only six moves. In just over ten minutes, he ran through ten full rounds.

Limitless Cloud Hands Level 1 (0/10) → Level 2 (0/20)

With the jump to level 2, it was like Zhang Yu had instantly lived through hundreds of training sessions. His grasp of forming and manipulating Formless Cloud Qi, as well as applying the six moves, soared.

He looked down at his hands.

Before, his Formless Cloud Qi would rise off them in wispy, smoke-like trails—like signal flares.

But now, with Level 2 mastery, the escaping tendrils had decreased significantly—a clear sign of improved control.