No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

To the Black Dragon, it was inevitable that powerful clans would eventually be swallowed up by even stronger ones. That was simply the trajectory of Kunxu’s First Floor.

With competition growing fiercer by the day, clan-scale selective breeding—like the kind practiced by Red Tower Pasture—was bound to become the norm among elite families.

“Refining the strengths within bloodlines to birth a generation stronger than the last.”

He had always believed that Red Tower held a serious advantage in this area and could quickly dominate the market.

The only drawback was that Red Tower Pasture had previously focused too heavily on the beast and Demon-Kin markets, lacking enough high-quality human genetic stock.

Especially since many elite families kept their superior genes tightly under wraps—it was never easy to get access.

But now, looking at Zhang Yu, the Black Dragon felt as if he were staring at a future best-seller.

He thought to himself, “Top student from Songyang City, with a slew of competition awards. And before even finishing his sophomore year, his metrics are already at senior-year levels.”

“If I could extract the dominant traits from his bloodline… no, even better, directly use his seed stock to refine our gene pool and produce exceptional offspring. That would definitely interest the wealthy.”

“And if I can secure an exclusive agreement? Even better.”This thought flickered through his mind like lightning. He then laughed heartily and said, “No need to be so formal. If you’d like, you can start calling me ‘godfather’ right now.”

Zhang Yu said nothing.

Had this happened a couple weeks ago—back when he had just arrived in Kunxu, broke, helpless, and ignorant of its inner workings—he might’ve dropped to his knees and shouted “Dad!”

But now, especially after learning so much about Red Tower Pasture, he wasn’t about to casually call anyone godfather.

Zhang Yu understood that all that talk of “godfather” and “godson” was just branding. Behind it would be a string of exploitative contracts and obligations—a trap, plain and simple.

The Black Dragon raised an eyebrow. “Oh? You’re not interested?”

“I can offer quite a good deal, you know.”

“How about the title of ‘Director of Breeding’ at Red Tower Pasture?”

He stepped slowly toward Zhang Yu, his tone thick with seduction. “As Breeding Director, you’d be able to detain any employee at will, strip them of autonomy, and drain them dry. Doesn’t that kind of power appeal to you?”

Zhang Yu blinked. “Isn’t that… illegal?”

The Black Dragon chuckled and snapped his fingers. “Xiong Haohan, put in some overtime tonight. I want the pitch deck for the next breeding campaign on my desk by morning.”

A respectful voice responded through the comms, “Understood. I’ll get right on it.”

Then the Black Dragon turned back to Zhang Yu. “So? Still not curious? If you accept, you’ll have countless Demon-Kin who obey your every word, just like that.”

Zhang Yu frowned. “Aren’t they all your sons? If that’s how you treat your sons, can I really expect better treatment as your godson?”

The Black Dragon replied, “That’s all down to the contract.”

“I’m not one of those people hung up on bloodlines.”

“If someone doesn’t sign a contract with me, even if they have my blood, they’re not my child.”

“But someone who does sign—even without a drop of my blood—can be my child.”

“I’ll give you a contract so generous it’ll blow your mind.”

“Once you sign, you’ll be my godson. Better perks, higher status than even my biological children.”

“Hell, maybe I’ll even pass on my board seat to you someday.”

It was a tempting offer, one most high schoolers wouldn’t be able to resist.

But Zhang Yu had already seen too many traps and walked through too many fires. He wasn’t about to get lured in by some shady board chairman—even one as charming as this.

He raised his hands defensively. “Ah, I’d love to, really, but I can’t. You probably know I already signed with Zhang Pianpian. That contract has clauses that prevent me from taking on another godparent.”

“Zhang Pianpian?” The Black Dragon gave Zhang Yu a long look, genuinely surprised.

“This kid… I can’t even detect a flicker of temptation? That clear-headed?”

But no—he realized—even clear-headed people can be tempted when fortune falls from the sky.

Zhang Yu didn’t just seem clear-headed. He seemed scarred. Seasoned. Like someone who’d already been burned badly before.

“How badly did Zhang Pianpian screw him over? His guard’s this high?”

The Black Dragon softened his tone. “So you’re bound by contract. I get it.”

“No need to be godfather and godson. How about just… donating some seed?”

He clapped his hands, and a group of beauties stepped forward—tall, short, curvy, slender—some even had the features of fox spirits and cat spirits, clearly Demon-Kin.

“Leave your seed in each of them. Ten thousand per completed cycle. However many you can handle, I’ll pay.”

Watching Zhang Yu’s labored breathing, the Black Dragon mused, “Just as I thought—high schoolers with restored fertility have no resistance at all. And with the price I’m offering…”

But Zhang Yu gritted his teeth and shook his head, forcing those ten-thousand-yuan temptations out of his mind.

“No… no thanks. I’ll just sell research rights.”

The Black Dragon’s eyes narrowed. “I’ve shown plenty of sincerity. If you won’t call me godfather or take my deal…”

“Am I being too soft?”

A terrifying pressure surged toward Zhang Yu, trying to force him to his knees.

He braced himself and managed to croak, “I… I really did sign with Zhang Pianpian.”

The Black Dragon scowled. “Even that’s covered in the contract? That wide-ranging?”

For a brief moment, even he felt a little sorry for Zhang Yu.

He thought back to a time a thousand years ago, when slaves and house servants were still common. Back then, the masters decided whether a slave could reproduce, how they’d reproduce, how many offspring they’d have…

But those days were long gone. Slavery had given way to the talent market. Reproduction rights? Rarely regulated anymore.

“I didn’t expect Zhang Pianpian to be so thorough,” the Black Dragon sighed, clapping Zhang Yu on the shoulder. “You’ve really got it rough.”

“How about with men, then? Would that breach the contract?”

Before Zhang Yu could even react, the Black Dragon’s body began to shift. His once-androgynous features became overtly seductive. Feminine curves blossomed across his form.

With a smile, the Black Dragon purred, “Or what if I’m neither man nor woman? Neither dragon nor human? Still a breach?”

“If you don’t like this look, give me ten minutes. I can get surgery, change it up however you like.”

“What do you think?”

Zhang Yu backed away in horror. “Still a breach. It really won’t work.”

The Black Dragon gave a casual smile as he reverted back. “Fine. Research rights it is.”

“You can go sign the paperwork.”

As Zhang Yu left, the Black Dragon’s eyes turned icy cold. The sympathy and warmth from earlier vanished like smoke—pure illusion.

A fox spirit sidled up next to him and whispered, “Chairman, are you really that interested in Zhang Yu’s seed?”

The Black Dragon replied, “At first, I just thought his bloodline was promising—figured we could make good money using him as breeding material.”

“But if he’s really that locked down by contract, I’m starting to wonder if there’s something hidden in his genetics.”

“Not sure if the kid’s telling the truth, though. But either way, he’s clearly not just some desperate poor student you can bait with pocket change.”

“Tell the research team to hurry up and analyze his seed. If there’s something special in there… we’ll figure out the next step then.”

…

Hours later.

Back in the apartment.

As the door swung open, Zhang Yu strode in full of swagger.

Bai Zhenzhen turned and saw how drained he looked. “Did it go through?”

“How much did you get?”

Zhang Yu beamed. “I wasn’t fully prepared, and the quantity was a bit low. Sold for one hundred and fifty thousand.”

“If they still want more next week, I can do another round.”

“That much?!” Bai Zhenzhen’s eyes sparkled with envy. “That’s insane!”

She couldn’t help but envy how easily Zhang Yu seemed to make money.

Zhang Yu waved his hand gallantly. “Ah-Zhen, don’t worry about money. If you’re short, just borrow from me.”

“Daddy!” Bai Zhenzhen threw her arms around him. “You worked so hard for this money!”

Zhang Yu nodded with a sigh. “It really was exhausting. Burned through a lot.”

“Is there any food left at home?”

Bai Zhenzhen rushed to the kitchen. “We still have that leftover nourishing demon beast meat. I’ll bring it over!”

She set the food down, massaging his shoulders as she encouraged him. “Daddy, eat up! Load up on protein! Next time we’ll earn even more—we’re counting on you!”

Zhang Yu sighed inwardly. He knew this income wasn’t sustainable.

“I still need to raise my potential. Fast.”

With that thought, he quickly contacted Yu Xinghan to arrange a trip to the Dao-Seeking Hall in the Spiritual Realm.

…

In a quiet chamber at White Dragon High School.

Yu Xinghan sat cross-legged, eyes shut, quietly absorbing spiritual essence.

But in his mind, images of Li Xuelian’s mature figure kept flashing by, disrupting his focus.

“Sigh.”

“This won’t do.”

“This curse is too potent.”

“But if I remove it, I won’t be able to train in Grand Heavenly Dragon Strength. I can’t just abandon that Technique forever, can I?”

After some hesitation, Yu Xinghan called his master, Xinghuo Zhenren, for advice.

“Hello? Master, I’ve got a friend—uh, Zhang Yu. He’s run into a bit of a problem…”

Ten minutes later, Yu Xinghan hung up with a furrowed brow.

Xinghuo Zhenren had offered only two paths forward:

Leave the curse in place, steel your will, and continue training in Grand Heavenly Dragon Strength. That was the path of the strong—but it would slow his progress for a while.

Or remove the curse and stop practicing the Technique for now. Easier in the short term, but if he had to pick it back up later, the setback might be even harder to overcome.

Both paths had pros and cons. Yu Xinghan couldn’t decide.

Just then, Zhang Yu’s name popped up on his phone—and a new idea struck him.