No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

Inside the Red Tower Tower in the city center.

On the 32nd floor, at a desk.

Xiong Haohan opened his phone and saw a message from Xiong Wenwu.

Xiong Wenwu: Zhang Yu is a good guy—he’s been looking out for me.

Xiong Wenwu: If it’s not too much trouble, Haohan-ge, could you help him out?

Xiong Haohan was a manager at Red Tower Breeding Company.

He and Xiong Wenwu were connected because they’d both come from the same breeding facility.

In Red Tower Pasture, the breeding facility you came from was a crucial part of your identity. When nearly all Demon-Kin shared the same father, where you were born decided who you grew up with, who you went to school with. It became a natural badge of affiliation.

And the distinctions didn’t stop there: which hatchery in the facility, which dorm, whether you had a middle school or high school diploma, whether you attended Red Tower High, which class you were in there, and even what subspecies of Demon-Kin you belonged to.

Yes—though the system classified them all as Demon-Kin, there were massive differences among them.Those differences mattered not just within the Demon-Kin community; even to humans, not all Demon-Kin were the same.

For instance, turtle-type or toad-type Demon-Kin were far less popular than bear-type, dog-type, or cat-type ones. They faced more discrimination, produced fewer standout individuals, and Red Tower Pasture had been steadily cutting down on their breeding quotas year after year.

All these layers of categorization led to a fragmented but tight-knit landscape of cliques within Red Tower Pasture.

Perhaps because they were often marginalized in human society, or maybe because most of them lacked reliable parents to lean on, Demon-Kin tended to stick closely to these community-based micro-groups.

Xiong Haohan and Xiong Wenwu weren’t just from the same breeding base—they had both attended Red Tower High, been in the elite demonstration class, and were both bear-type Demon-Kin.

That made it easy for Xiong Wenwu to get acquainted with this older schoolmate through alumni meetups and the Bear Demon group chat.

Especially in that chat, Xiong Haohan—who had become a manager just three years into his career—was basically a legend. He was the ultimate role model for many bear-type Demon-Kin: a high-rise office professional with a stable income, on-time loan repayments, and the freedom to volunteer for overtime.

But seeing Xiong Wenwu’s message now, Xiong Haohan couldn’t help but mutter to himself, “Bro, you’re giving me way too much credit.”

Looking through Zhang Yu’s profile, he frowned. “I’m just a low-level employee myself. There’s no way I could pull strings to raise the price for a student from Songyang High.”

“Our fertility banks and research teams don’t take just anyone’s seed, you know.”

Since he’d become a cog in the overtime machine at the company, Xiong Haohan hadn’t had the energy, time, or interest to keep up with the stormy drama of the high school cultivation scene. He had no idea Zhang Yu had been making waves lately among the Three Great Academies.

But one thing remained etched deep in the heart of this Red Tower High graduate:

If you weren’t from one of the Three Great Academies, you had no business trying to sell seed.

Songyang High? Might as well be printing garbage on paper.

Yet when Xiong Haohan kept scrolling and saw Zhang Yu’s monthly exam scores, competition records, and various performance stats, his eyes widened in surprise.

“This guy’s from Songyang High?”

“How can he be from Songyang High?”

“And he’s this strong in his first year? How much money did he pour into cultivation already, and now he’s trying to sell seed?”

Xiong Haohan sighed inwardly. “High school cultivation really is a bottomless pit. If you want to spend money, there’s always somewhere to throw it. No amount is ever enough.”

“But still, his talent and potential are undeniably outstanding.”

“Only… my rank limits what I can offer. I probably can’t give him a price he’ll be happy with.”

Still, thinking of Xiong Wenwu’s request, Xiong Haohan used his access to report Zhang Yu’s profile up the chain.

“That’s the most I can do. Whether he gets a good deal or not will depend on his luck and skill.”

To his surprise, the higher-ups responded quickly and told him to schedule a meeting with Zhang Yu as soon as possible.

So, the meeting was set for early the next morning.

When Zhang Yu had barely taken his seat in the meeting room the next day, Xiong Haohan hurried in.

“Hello, hello, I’m Xiong Haohan.” After shaking hands, he smiled warmly. “I have a small favor to ask.”

“It’s not that we don’t trust Songyang High’s data, but we’d like to get more precise figures on your mana and physical strength. Those two traits are most tightly linked to hereditary bloodlines. With that info, we’ll have a better foundation for the negotiations.”

“Would that be alright with you?”

Since Zhang Yu was already here, he of course agreed.

Soon after, he underwent mana and physical strength tests at the company.

“Mana: 88.14. Physical strength: Level 8.09…”

Xiong Haohan reviewed the raw numbers first, then glanced through full-body metrics like blood panels and urinalysis.

He was stunned. “These scores… they’re even higher than his last monthly exam! He’s made more progress recently?”

“He’s just starting his second year, right? But these baseline stats are already at third-year level.”

“No wonder the higher-ups are taking interest in his seed—probably tied to the latest fertility bank initiative.”

Xiong Haohan was well aware that ever since Oasis Group’s major breakthroughs in ex vivo cultivation, Red Tower Pasture’s livestock and breeding markets had been steadily shrinking.

In response, Red Tower had started selling off assets and pivoting toward new ventures.

They were aiming at the custom fertility market and bloodline optimization.

And in Xiong Haohan’s eyes, Zhang Yu looked like prime material—someone who could potentially raise the company’s odds of a successful pivot.

He began discussing the specific terms of the seed sale.

But he soon frowned. “You’re only selling research rights? Not fertility rights?”

When Zhang Yu nodded, Xiong Haohan replied, “Selling only research rights won’t get you top dollar. Honestly, the most I could offer would be in the low six figures.”

“With talent like yours, a lot of buyers would pay handsomely to breed your bloodline. There’s real profit there…”

As Xiong Haohan kept pushing the offer, Fu Ji spoke up in Zhang Yu’s mind: “Whatever you do, don’t agree to sell your fertility rights. We’re just here to make some pocket money.”

“Bloodline reproduction might earn you a fortune now, but if you make it to Kunxu’s upper levels, having offspring can be a liability. The karmic links could be exploited by enemies, or worse, used as a medium for Dao Techniques.”

“Long term, it’s better not to have descendants yet.”

Zhang Yu had already heard this warning from Fu Ji before, so he held his ground despite Xiong Haohan’s persuasion.

Just as Xiong Haohan was trying to think of how to continue the pitch, his phone rang.

Zhang Yu watched as the man suddenly straightened up like a statue, nodding repeatedly, bowing over the call, answering “yes, yes, yes” nonstop, and finally ending it with utmost respect.

Then, looking shocked, Xiong Haohan turned to Zhang Yu and said, “A very important figure has taken an interest in you and wants to speak with you personally.”

Guided by Xiong Haohan, Zhang Yu followed him up to the 333rd floor of the Red Tower Tower and stopped before a massive golden door.

Xiong Haohan swallowed nervously, gazing at the door with equal parts awe and fear. “Go on in. I wasn’t cleared to enter, so I’ll wait out here.”

Zhang Yu pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The first thing he saw was a tunnel reminiscent of an aquarium’s underwater passage.

Overhead stretched a seemingly endless artificial seawater tank filled with marine creatures, some familiar, others unknown.

He even saw many fish with dragon scales and horns—Demon-Kin of the sea.

Walking dozens of meters forward, he finally arrived at a vast office.

Behind it, a whale swam slowly behind glass in the water.

A figure over three meters tall stood with his back to Zhang Yu, watching the whale glide by.

“This office setup isn’t bad, right?” the man said. “Whenever I make major decisions, I like to come here and soak in the ocean’s calm.”

He turned around, revealing a face that blurred the line between male and female beauty.

A few delicate dragon scales on his face enhanced his allure, adding a mystical air rather than marring his looks.

Twin dragon horns on his forehead radiated raw dominance, making Zhang Yu unconsciously hold his breath.

This ‘Dragon-Kin’ was over three meters tall, yet unlike the bulky builds of Song Hailong or Zhao Tianxing, he had a near-human physique. Draped casually in a black-gold robe, he exuded effortless elegance and nobility.

He now smiled at Zhang Yu and said, “Zhang Yu, I like you. How would you feel about becoming my adopted son?”

Zhang Yu blinked, stunned. “You’re… the Black Dragon Chairman of Red Tower High? The one they call ‘Father of the Demon-Kin’?”

Zhang Yu groaned inwardly. Trouble. All this from trying to sell some seed?

The Dragon Chairman looked at Zhang Yu as if he were a prime-quality seed—one that could generate massive profits in Red Tower Pasture’s transformation plans.

In truth, this corporate pivot wasn’t just about pressure from Oasis Group. It reflected the board’s belief in a shifting future.

To the Dragon Chairman, the great legacy clans of Kunxu’s first floor had already monopolized every key resource. Their control was pervasive.

“In the world to come, there’ll be no place for ordinary people. Or rather, the ‘ordinary’ will be fallen branches of legacy clans.”

“Those clans are the true marketplace.”

“As their monopoly grows, civilians are phased out, and clan warfare takes over.”

“At that point… a descendant’s Immortal Path potential becomes everything.”

“All across Kunxu, the great clans will prioritize bloodline optimization, fertility engineering, and talent enhancement more than ever.”

“I’ve heard that over in Xiandu, some clans are already using Immortal Dao techniques to reshape their descendants’ bloodlines…”