No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

Hearing the voice of the Evil God in his mind, Zhang Yu paused in surprise.

Hadn’t this Evil God been vehemently against him quitting the Honors Class and staying in Songyang City? Why the sudden change of heart?

Sensing Zhang Yu’s confusion, the Evil God continued in his mind, “After hearing Zhang Pianpian talk, I remembered a few things.”

“I once heard the Evil God King of the third underground layer mention that a major conflict had erupted in the upper layers of Kunxu, all related to the Foundation License exam.”

The Evil God recalled that back then, she had been working odd jobs on the third underground level of Kunxu.

Yet somehow, with just a telephone and a phonebook, she’d become the top salesperson of the month. She’d conned several doctoral students, won the favor of the Evil God King, got invited to the King’s banquet, and overheard all sorts of secrets.

The Evil God thought to herself, “What a pity… That damn King scammed away my sales skills and commission the very next month. Then he sold those skills to a bunch of unemployed dropouts who’d fled to the third layer, hired them en masse, and kicked me out. I had to find work all over again…”

The memory flickered through her mind. Now, the Evil God resumed, “I remember the Evil God King once lamenting that it was the Immortals themselves who pushed for reforming the exam quotas in the lower levels of Kunxu. Supposedly, it was to increase upward mobility.”

“But, of course, they had to account for their disciples, descendants, and bloodlines. They had to balance the quotas across the Ten Major Sects, and between the various factions in the Celestial Court. The vested interests were tangled and messy—who knows how many bitter fights broke out?”

“There were Immortals who went bankrupt gambling, Immortals who went mad and died in their caves, and even some who fled to the unknown depths of Kunxu’s lower levels.”“But precisely because the conflict was so fierce, the final version of the Foundation License exam ended up being imbued with immense authority. It became the shared will of the Ten Major Sects and the Immortals of the Celestial Court.”

“So there’s no need to worry about safety when taking this exam. Just like Zhang Pianpian said, even the most powerful forces on the first floor of Kunxu wouldn’t dare to break the rules, let alone cheat. At most, they might conceal exam info outside the venue or train their students more intensively.”

Sensing that Zhang Yu was still processing her words, the Evil God quickly added, “If you can get the Foundation License before entering university… you’ll have a huge advantage. Because this is an exam endorsed by the Celestial Court itself. Passing it means you’re practically hand-picked as one of the top high schoolers on the first floor of Kunxu.”

“With this certificate, the benefits you get in university—in terms of treatment, curriculum, and resources—will be vastly different.”

“Especially since you’d be allowed directly into the Foundation Class, studying Foundation-level curriculum and receiving Foundation-level support. That’ll give you a massive early-game edge. Even better than the Honors Class.”

Zhang Yu understood what she meant. The difference was even greater than that between a top-tier high school and an average one.

“Also, whether it’s Bai Zhenzhen or Zhang Pianpian, neither of them truly understands just how terrifying your talent has become after my enlightenment.”

“From what I’ve observed lately, the more Techniques you master, the faster you improve. I have no doubt—you will become the strongest high schooler on Kunxu’s first floor. Crushing this Foundation License exam will be a walk in the park.”

“With your terrifying potential, competing against fellow high schoolers who’ve only cultivated for three years or less might actually be easier than struggling for the same certificate in college, where everyone’s stuck at the peak of Qi Refinement.”

The Evil God sighed. “If I weren’t broke, I’d go all-in betting on you.”

Of course, there were some thoughts she didn’t voice—thoughts born from her own deeper motives.

Namely, once Zhang Pianpian left, and Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen remained in Songyang under increasing pressure, Zhang Yu would inevitably hunger for greater power, greater talent, greater potential.

In such a climate, the Evil God believed Zhang Yu would eventually follow her guidance and start hunting Evil Gods—to further his own evolution.

And then there was the matter of the Zhen Spirit Root.

“Can’t even bring yourself to sell out your best high school friend, and you still want to climb Kunxu? What a bleeding heart. If your potential wasn’t so damn impressive, I wouldn’t bother with you.”

The Evil God knew that Zhang Yu was unwilling to kill or steal Spirit Roots. Even going to the Honors Class alone, he wouldn’t benefit from a Zhen Spirit Root. But by staying to take the Foundation License exam, he could continue using Bai Zhenzhen’s Zhen Spirit Root to cultivate.

All things considered, that was why she supported Zhang Yu’s decision to stay and take the exam.

And her words reminded Zhang Yu of one key fact:

“My greatest edge is that I can quickly master all sorts of Techniques and level them up to ten.”

“That’s something other high schoolers simply can’t match in just three years.”

“But once I get to university, many of those students will have been at the peak of Qi Refinement for years and mastered a vast range of Techniques.”

“For those college students—whose Dao Heart, mana, and physical bodies are already maxed out—the number and strength of their Techniques will be one of the few remaining ways to stand out.”

“At that point, my edge over them won’t be nearly as significant as it is now over other high schoolers.”

With that in mind, Zhang Yu leaned further toward staying for the Foundation License exam.

Watching him silently, Zhang Pianpian finally asked, “So you’ve decided? You’re staying here with Bai Zhenzhen?”

Zhang Yu paused, then nodded.

A strange emotion welled up in his heart.

It felt almost like... by choosing not to go with Zhang Pianpian and instead stay with Bai Zhenzhen, he was betraying her.

As if he were saying, “Sis, Ah-Zhen is the one I’m closest with. If I had to choose between you two, I’d go with her.”

And Zhang Pianpian had been protecting them both for over four months now…

That pang of guilt tightened in Zhang Yu’s chest under her gaze.

Standing nearby, Bai Zhenzhen looked at Zhang Yu, and her heart stirred—as if a warm current coursed through her.

“Yuzi’s really staying with me to take the Foundation License exam.”

With that thought, the loneliness and cold isolation she’d been carrying—as if drifting alone beneath a frozen river—seemed to melt away, replaced by a sense of peace.

With that peace came a swelling joy in her heart, and even the Zhen Spirit Root within her stirred faintly.

“What’s with you, stupid Spirit Root? Why’re you so hyped? Can’t wait to get back into Yuzi’s body, huh?”

But then Bai Zhenzhen realized—it might just be mirroring her own emotions. A deep desire to do something good for Zhang Yu now that he’d chosen to stay.

And what better gift than her Zhen Spirit Root? It was, after all, the most precious thing she had.

In Kunxu, this kind of gesture—lending someone your most valuable asset—was rare even among blood relatives. Usually, it required a contract. People lent their brains, hearts, kidneys… but only after signing on the dotted line.

Realizing her own thoughts, Bai Zhenzhen looked at Zhang Yu with a new light in her eyes.

“Ah-Yu, from now on, you’ll always be number one on my friendly-rankings list. You and I are ride-or-die. I’ll call you Daddy every day if I have to.”

Zhang Pianpian looked at the two of them and said calmly, “If you’ve decided to stay, then stay. The path of the Immortal Dao is yours to choose and walk.”

“But once you’ve made your choice—no regrets.”

“From now on, you’ll need to squeeze out every second, every yuan, for cultivation.”

“The Foundation License exam on Kunxu’s first floor has three rounds.”

“It’s mid-April now. Registration opens mid-June. The first round takes place in August. It’s a comprehensive aptitude test—the easiest of the three—but you’ll still need to be at senior year high school level to pass.”

“The second round is the Special Talent Exam in October. Students are tested separately in Dao Heart, mana, physical fitness, and martial arts. You’ll need to be first in the city in one of those categories to have a shot.”

“The third and final round is in early January next year. It’s a head-to-head tournament among the remaining students. The strongest in each of the four categories will be awarded the Foundation License…”

Listening to the breakdown, Zhang Yu gradually pieced together the structure of the exam: “So the final selection isn’t based on overall ability, but rather on outstanding talent in one of four domains: Dao Heart, mana, physicality, or martial arts.”

“Makes sense. After all, we’re just high schoolers. We can’t be as well-rounded as those college students who’ve been refining their Qi for years. This exam isn’t looking for well-rounded students—it’s looking for four genius specialists.”

“If you want to win, you better have an extremely long ‘long board.’”

Then he asked, “Where’s the exam held?”

Zhang Pianpian replied, “Both registration and the exam take place in Xiandu.”

Xiandu City—the most prosperous, massive, and advanced metropolis on Kunxu’s first floor, far grander than Songyang.

Zhang Yu remembered that Xiandu was over 1,500 kilometers away from Songyang.

Hearing that the exam spanned three rounds over half a year and would be held in such a faraway city, Bai Zhenzhen couldn’t help but sigh.

“This exam’s really gonna eat up time. We’ll have to take a bunch of days off. Plus there’s travel, lodging, food… I hear prices in Xiandu are brutal.”

Zhang Pianpian nodded. “Exactly. The location and schedule are a filter in themselves.”

“Neither of you has an Intercity Travel Pass yet, do you? To leave town—especially to go to Xiandu—you’ll need to apply for one. They’ll ask for education, income, and proof of residence…”

Zhang Yu nodded, realizing what the whole setup was really saying:

If you don’t even have some spare cash or free time—or can’t even afford to rent a room—then forget about chasing this license. Just stay home and get a job.