No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

Zhang Pianpian continued, “By now, you should understand—your time is extremely limited.”

“Of course, even if you fail this time, you can try again next year.”

According to her explanation, the Foundation License exam for high schoolers began in mid-June each year, with the results announced in early January of the following year.

In other words, each student had two chances over the three years of high school.

The first was to sign up at the end of their first year and obtain the license in their second year.

The second chance was to register at the end of their second year and obtain the license in their third year.

Just then, the voice of the Evil God rang out in Zhang Yu’s mind: “Even though both are technically the same license, getting your Foundation License in your second year versus your third year makes a world of difference. It’ll show up differently on your résumé, and universities will absolutely treat you differently...”

Zhang Yu didn’t need the Evil God to spell it out—he could guess as much on his own.

“Given how Kunxu works, getting your license in third year versus second year… it’s like being a White Dragon student versus a Songyang student.”

Who would choose to be a Songyang student if given the option? If he had the chance, even someone like board director’s son He Dayou would probably just run off to White Dragon High.Faced with a shot to reinvent himself and become a “White Dragon” with just a bit of effort, how could Zhang Yu possibly let that slip by?

He nodded to Zhang Pianpian. “We’re definitely going to try both times. The earlier you get the Foundation License, the better.”

Zhang Pianpian went on, “As long as you’re clear on that. Next, you’ll need to pick your exam specialization—and before I leave, I’ve made some arrangements for you...”

Since there were only four available spots in the Foundation License exam—one each for Dao Heart, Mana, Physical Fitness, and Martial Arts—Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen would need to develop along different tracks.

Thanks to her Spirit Root, Bai Zhenzhen progressed quickly in Mana, Fitness, and Martial Arts.

But considering how her Martial talent had always been exceptional under the boost of her Zhen Spirit Root, she ultimately chose the Martial Arts track.

Zhang Yu, bolstered by both his Feathered Tome and his Zhen Spirit Root, was confident in Mana, Fitness, and Martial Arts as well. But since Bai Zhenzhen had already picked Martial Arts, that left him with only Mana and Fitness to choose from.

“Obviously, I’ll go with Fitness. I’ve already made major progress in physical strength while prepping for the sports tournament. If I keep pushing in that direction, it’s not impossible for me to become the strongest athlete in all of Kunxu’s first-floor high schools.”

With their paths chosen, Zhang Pianpian continued, “You’re pressed for time, short on money, and carrying a heavy load. Once your prize money and sponsorship payments come through, don’t waste a single coin.”

“For example—don’t even think about paying off your loans in one go. In fact, if possible, you might even want to borrow a bit more.”

“Over these next eight months, invest every cent into your own power.”

“Before I leave, I’ll do what I can to shield you—buy you a little more time to get stronger.”

“I’ll be waiting for you at Wanfa Sect University.”

…

Morning.

Songyang High School.

Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen dragged their tired bodies toward the school gates.

Last night’s athletic competition had already left them completely drained. After the event, they stayed up discussing the Foundation License with Zhang Pianpian. Even after she left, they didn’t rest—they began planning out their next cultivation steps.

After all, if they wanted to pass the Foundation License exam and defeat their rivals, the first-year curriculum at Songyang High was definitely not going to cut it.

They needed a training plan tailored to themselves—more aggressive, more effective.

How to spend their money, which Techniques to train, which Pills to use, and what exam-related expenses to prepare for… all of it had to be carefully budgeted and calculated.

Just then, Bai Zhenzhen suddenly stared wide-eyed at the digital billboard by the school gate.

“Congratulations to student Zhang Yu for winning first place in the Songyang City Sports Competition! With extraordinary talent and unmatched aptitude, he overcame material hardships and shone with a brilliance destined for greatness…”

The entire screen was filled with over-the-top praise for Zhang Yu’s “peerless gift.”

Bai Zhenzhen was stunned. “What about me? Why am I not mentioned?”

She’d placed fifth in the competition—wasn’t even worth a line?

But Zhang Yu, staring at the screen full of gushing compliments, didn’t feel flattered at all. If anything, he felt cold rage bubbling up.

If it were the Zhang Yu from a few months ago, he might’ve enjoyed such adoration.

But now? All he saw in those phrases—“talent,” “aptitude”—was a massive blow to his commercial value.

Who gets it? Winning first place and having people think you were born gifted—how’s a guy supposed to monetize that?

“Who the hell wrote this garbage? Can we get it taken down?”

He later found out it was arranged by the Student Council.

He immediately pieced it together. “Zhou Chechen is behind this too? Trying to tank my commercial value?”

“Could he be in league with that Le Jingchen from Purple Cloud?”

Thinking back to how Zhou Chechen and Lan Ling had warned him during the tournament, Zhang Yu became increasingly convinced they were colluding with Purple Cloud High or Purple Cloud Pharmaceuticals.

Just then, Zhao Tianxing spotted Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen and excitedly came over.

Seeing Zhang Yu deep in thought, he asked, “A-Yu, what are you thinking about?”

Zhang Yu sighed. “I’m wondering how to prove I’m not a genius. Just a normal guy whose results depend entirely on how much money he spends.”

Zhao Tianxing blinked. Was Yuzi throwing shade at me?

Zhang Yu continued, “And then I realized—proving I’m ordinary is ten times harder than proving I’m a genius.”

“My brilliance is like the sun—no matter how I try to hide it, it still shines through. It’s just too damn hard.”

Zhao Tianxing couldn’t help recalling the Zhang Yu from six months ago and muttered internally, “A-Yu, I liked you better back then.”

“Back then, you were just like me. In front of Ah-Zhen, Qian Shen, and He Dayou, we were both clowns.”

Looking at Zhang Yu now, with his completely transformed attitude, Zhao Tianxing had to admit—success really did change people.

And then a new insight hit him: “Clowns can switch places. Six months ago, Zhang Yu was a clown before He Dayou. Now, it’s He Dayou who looks like the clown standing before Zhang Yu.”

“This is... the Relativity of Clowns.”

“What matters in the end is always score and wealth.”

Zhao Tianxing imagined, just for a moment, grabbing Zhang Yu by the throat and slamming him to the ground right after his speech.

Then saying coldly, “Oh? Hard to prove, is it?”

If something like that happened, the clown status would’ve flipped again.

“Sigh. To stand tall in school and speak with confidence, you really need power.”

And with that, Zhao Tianxing made up his mind: he would definitely purchase the Synthetic Demon Tendon Muscle enhancement.

And he wasn’t the only one. Across Songyang High, many students were thinking the same. Some eyed the Synthetic Demon Tendon Muscle, others craved the Super-Metabolism Surgery, and a few even aimed for the Red Tower’s Dragon Bloodline…

Zhang Yu and his friends walked into the classroom, and Zhang Yu immediately began browsing Techniques on his phone.

He thought, “Even if I’m focusing on the Fitness track, I can’t let my Dao Heart and Mana fall behind.”

“I need replacements for the Celestial Martial Heart-Forging Technique and the Zhou Tian Qi-Gathering Technique—something that lets me keep building Dao Heart and Mana while training my body.”

But the Technique site was a vast ocean of options. Even sorting by ranking left Zhang Yu dizzy with choices—he had no idea what to pick.

Then the Evil God, still disguised as prayer beads, suddenly spoke: “Try searching for Great Sun Qi Sea.”

Zhang Yu blinked, then searched the Great Sun Qi Sea breathing Technique—and found that it was a low-selling, expert-grade Technique designed for the mid-stage of Qi Refinement.

Its poor sales stemmed from two main reasons: First, the Technique was expensive. Just the license cost 120,000.

Second, it was extremely time-consuming to train.

Not because it was hard to understand or practice, but because it required time—lots of it.

The Great Sun Qi Sea could passively absorb the essence of sunlight and moonlight and draw spiritual essence from the natural Light essence of heaven and earth, converting it into Mana.

Zhang Yu read the description and thought, “Just like the Zhou Tian breathing method, it works passively. As long as there’s light, the Great Sun Qi Sea will keep operating. And the stronger the light, the better the effect.”

“But it builds up gradually. If it takes one month of light to reach the first layer, it takes two for the second, then four for the third. It doubles each time.”

“By the eighth layer, breaking through would require ten years.”

“Ninth to tenth layer… more than twenty years.”

Reading this, Zhang Yu could see why people rarely bought it—it was likely only used as a temporary breathing Technique to passively boost Mana growth.

“No wonder no one’s buying it.”

“But for me? It’s perfect.”

He grew curious. If this decades-long breathing Technique reached level ten under his guidance, what would happen?

Then he remembered the Evil God who had suggested it in the first place. After all, it had been glued to his side 24/7 and knew better than anyone which Technique suited him best.

He murmured softly, “It’s been so long and I still don’t know what to call you.”

The Evil God chuckled. A crisp female voice echoed in his mind. “Just call me Fu Ji.”

“Zhang Yu, I’ve told you from the start—with me by your side, your path through Kunxu will be much smoother.”