No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

On the other end of the line, Zhang Pianpian was rattling off instructions.

Zhang Yu nodded occasionally, murmuring an acknowledgment now and then.

“The Ten Great Academies have a hard rule—movement between floors of Kunxu is restricted to preserve law, order, and the business climate.”

“If you want to come back down, it’s either like Xinghuo Zhenren—losing your cultivation, seeing your assets gutted, and crawling back in shame…”

“Or you get reassigned down here for some special duty, like the Director of Xianyun Group’s Songyang branch—sent to sit on ice in this dead-end post.”

“But either way, that’s what happens when you get eliminated while trying to climb up. I’m not going to be one of them.”

“Little brother, I’m going to climb higher—to see the scenery above Kunxu.”

“My eyes are set upward. I won’t look back.”

“If we ever meet again, it’ll be up there. Never here on the first floor of Kunxu.”

Zhang Yu clenched his fists and said into the phone, “Sis, I swear I’ll catch up to you!”Zhang Pianpian chuckled. “Then I’ll wait for you at Wanfa Sect University.”

Zhang Yu added quickly, “Since it’s so hard to go up or down, do you have anything you’re leaving behind? Something you can’t take with you?”

Zhang Pianpian replied, “I still have over twenty million in debt…”

“Yeah, never mind that,” Zhang Yu replied righteously. “Something that personal should stay with you.”

“I mean like, a house, a car, or something valuable you can’t bring?”

Pfft! Bai Zhenzhen burst into laughter beside him. It sounded like a dutiful grandson asking his grandma to leave him the inheritance before ascending to the heavens.

Zhang Pianpian said, “I’m leaving you three Sigils.”

Zhang Yu looked at the three pictures she sent—screenshots of the Sigils. The runes were so complex he couldn’t make heads or tails of them.

A strange doubt rose in his mind: “Can a screenshot even work?”

Zhang Pianpian explained, “One’s a Freezing Sigil—it can freeze someone’s bank account, but the higher their Faith Level, the shorter the freeze.”

“Another is a Thunderclap Sigil—it triggers an alarm, summoning armed forces from the Inspectorate Department within a minute. But be warned, each alarm costs at least ten thousand. Make sure you have the funds before using it.”

“And the last is a Divine Stride Sigil—it summons a local Righteous God to carry you away instantly, up to a max distance of ten kilometers. It costs three thousand per kilometer, deducted straight from your account. So budget wisely.”

Zhang Yu’s eyes lit up—these Sigils were incredibly useful. ᴛʜɪs ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ɪs ᴜᴘᴅᴀᴛᴇ ʙʏ novᴇl(ꜰ)ire.ɴet

Zhang Pianpian added coolly, “I’ll also send you the number of the Songyang Inspectorate Department Captain. I’ve stored the Sigils with her.”

“Once you add her, just message her whichever one you want to use, and she’ll activate it for you.”

“If you run into something you can’t handle, you can also go to her for help.”

She paused, clearly debating something, then added, “If you ever need a cover identity with a higher-level divine clearance, she can help promote you. Talk it over with her.”

“But even if she promotes you, remember—you’ll only be a Special Assistant.”

“And never go see her alone at night.”

“And keep working as a contract employee. Do not sign a formal contract.”

“And don’t worry about the loans. Just pay them off little by little according to the terms.”

“Focus on improving yourself. It’s okay to owe more—debt is sometimes just another kind of strength.”

“Oh, and the Foundation Establishment exam registration. You’ll need to open the registration site once you’re in Xiandu City. I’ve never done it, so you’ll have to play it by ear…”

One instruction after another, Zhang Pianpian laid everything out with care, and Zhang Yu listened with full focus.

At the end, she added softly, “We have no roots here on Kunxu’s first floor. Remember, don’t go around flaunting my name.”

“Once I leave, lie low as much as possible. And if you do get your Foundation License, stay even lower.”

Zhang Yu felt a bead of sweat form on his forehead. Geez, sis—what kind of troublemaker does she think he is?

“Don’t worry, sis. Just wait for me at Wanfa Sect University. I’ll come find you in two years.”

After hanging up, Zhang Yu suddenly felt a hollow emptiness. Like a guardian was ascending to the heavens, leaving him to face the world alone.

“Sigh, better get this Foundation Establishment exam registration sorted first.”

Zhang Yu picked up his phone and called his homeroom teacher, Su Haifeng.

“Hey, Lao Su? Bai Zhenzhen and I need two days off.”

“It’s something Senior Zhang Pianpian wanted us to do before she left.”

“You’re not letting us take the leave?”

“Well then, I guess I’ll just have to tell her she went to the Ascension Platform with regrets.”

“Mm. Thanks, Lao Su.”

…

The day before the Foundation Establishment exam registration.

It was also the day Zhang Pianpian officially left via the Ascension Platform.

Night.

Songyang City, Intercity Railway Station.

Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen sat quietly in the waiting area, ready to board the high-speed train to Tiantai City.

They didn’t book a direct train to Xiandu City to avoid revealing their true destination.

At the moment, both of them were still squeezing in some breathing practice.

Over the past few days, Zhang Yu had seen more gains—his Mana rose to 61.4, and his Physical Strength hit 6.08.

But his cash reserves had taken another dive.

Especially during Gaokao season, when Songyang City’s controls got even stricter. Patrol officers roamed the streets near every high school.

All schools were closed to outsiders, and even the Dark Studies Gang had suspended their tutoring business. Zhang Yu lost a big chunk of income.

He couldn’t help but sigh—Gaokao affected university admissions, the chance to rise to the second floor, and the future of countless families. No wonder the whole city was on edge.

His savings now stood at only fifty thousand.

“Still need to find a way to make money. After this registration trip… maybe I should expand the dark tutoring market?”

A little over an hour later, Zhang Yu’s phone buzzed.

It was a message from Zhang Pianpian.

Zhang Pianpian: I’m going ahead.

Her profile icon grayed out immediately. Zhang Yu knew—short of some special communication methods, they wouldn’t speak again until he reached the second floor of Kunxu.

A wave of loss swept over him.

“Next time we meet… probably two years from now.”

“Good thing I still have Ah-Zhen.”

He turned to see Bai Zhenzhen devouring a bucket of synthetic food.

“Ah-Zhen? Why are you eating my share too?”

Bai Zhenzhen replied, “You just kept staring at your phone like a zombie. I figured you weren’t hungry.”

Zhang Yu: “You little—!”

Soon after arriving in Tiantai City, they caught another train to a different city.

More than ten hours later…

…

The train thundered across the land.

Zhang Yu glanced at Bai Zhenzhen beside him and saw her pressed against the window in awe. “Yuzi, look at that!”

In the distance, stretching from earth to sky, lay a boundless sprawl of city.

It was Xiandu City.

Above it, white and gold auspicious clouds spread like floating continents and islands. On them sat countless Immortal Palaces and divine towers that pierced the sky—like a city in the heavens.

Below that floating metropolis, the ground was shrouded in darkness, dotted with towering buildings and neon lights flickering through the gloom.

A young man nearby pointed to the airborne city. “Uncle, have you ever been to the Upper City?”

The elderly man beside him had deep lines on his face, clearly unfazed. “Yeah. Worked up there when I was young. Back then, it was just a few floating islands. It kept expanding. The clouds got thicker. Now the rich call it the ’Floor One-and-a-Half’ of Kunxu.”

“The top got more glorious, and the Lower City… just darker. So dark it’s always night now.”

The young man asked, “Isn’t it depressing without any daylight?”

The old man scoffed. “If there’s money, who cares about day or night? Kid, even begging in Xiandu is better than working a factory anywhere else.”

As the train pulled into the Lower City station, Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen disembarked into a chill, damp air.

They looked up—but the sky was completely obscured by the clouds above.

Those clouds, golden-white from the outside, appeared pitch-black from below, roiling like storm clouds.

“Must be the buildings and roads of the Upper City blocking all sunlight,” Zhang Yu mused. “This place feels suffocating.”

“Hard to cultivate your Great Sun Qi Sea in a place like this.”

They didn’t wander. Instead, they found a quiet corner of the station and opened the registration website, just as Zhang Pianpian had instructed.

In the past, the site had always shown a blank screen.

But now, standing within Xiandu City, it finally displayed a countdown.

“Still not started yet?”

They roamed the station to kill time, gawking at bento boxes costing over a hundred, bottled water at ten bucks, and even a pair of stockings priced at fifty million.

Bai Zhenzhen pointed at the white stockings. “Yuzi, that’s an External Spirit Root.”

Zhang Yu: “I see.”

Bai Zhenzhen: “If you wear that, you’d technically have a Spirit Root too.”

Zhang Yu rolled his eyes. “Then you wear it and give me the Zhen Spirit Root.”

Bai Zhenzhen replied, “Sure. Just remember to buy it for me someday.”

Zhang Yu scoffed. No way he could afford something that expensive.

“Someday, I’ll get you seven pairs—seven colors. One for each day of the week…”

As they joked, the countdown ended.

Onscreen, the instructions appeared: “Find a space with no surveillance, no outsiders, where only you are present. Then click confirm.”