No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

Over the many years of Wang Hai’s life, he had learned a simple rule: in Kunxu, if something didn’t make sense, there was probably a major faction pulling strings behind the scenes.

And when ordinary people got caught up in the games of those corporations and legacy clans, the ending was rarely good.

It was this very principle that had kept Wang Hai a humble PE teacher for decades.

But it was also thanks to this principle that he still had a job—as a decorated PE instructor—decades later.

As for Lin Hui, who had only joined Songyang High School last year, Wang Hai could understand her eagerness to make a fortune off this opportunity. He’d had that same mindset in his youth.

But whether it was Lin Hui or Zhang Yu, Wang Hai didn’t hold out much hope for their future.

“Sigh. When an average cultivator gets dragged into the vortex between major powers, they might earn some quick cash at first—but in the end, they lose everything, down to the marrow.”

“Those people upstairs… when have they ever let someone profit for free?”

…

Zhang Yu, on the other hand, still couldn’t believe that Songyang High School would actually hand out medicine to students for free—even after receiving the Dragon Elephant Enhancer.“That’s not how Songyang High operates.”

“There’s no way this drug is clean, right?”

It wasn’t until he saw the students around him injecting the drug and immediately bursting with vitality, leaping into body-refining practice, that Zhang Yu cautiously tried a tiny dose himself.

“Let’s try a bit. Worst case, my Endless Spring and Autumn Meditation is already at level 10—it should be able to flush out anything bad…”

But the moment that tiny bit of Dragon Elephant Enhancer entered his body, Zhang Yu felt a fire ignite inside him, blazing through every limb and meridian.

His first thought was: This stuff is intense—as explosive as gunpowder. He wanted to scream, dance, and fight nonstop for three days straight.

The second thought that came was: This stuff is poisonous.

With his Endless Spring and Autumn Meditation already at level 10, Zhang Yu had reached a near-supernatural sensitivity to medicinal toxins and pill residues. He could instantly sense that this so-called enhancer contained toxins far more potent than any ordinary drug—easily ten times as strong.

“But it’s still under the control of Endless Spring and Autumn Meditation.”

Not wanting to expose his technique in front of everyone, Zhang Yu channeled the drug’s effects into cultivating Crimson Marrow Primordial Energy.

Off to the side, Lin Hui watched this unfold, a subtle smile tugging at her lips. She thought to herself:

“That’s not the standard Dragon Elephant Enhancer… it’s the Berserk Dragon Enhancer.”

“Though it’s several times more effective than the Dragon Elephant version—boosting stamina, physical strength, blood energy, and refining efficiency across the board—it has one fatal flaw: it’s addictive.”

“One dose leads to another…”

“You won’t be able to stop.”

In her mind, Lin Hui could already see it: Zhang Yu, gradually growing dependent on the high-speed gains brought by the Berserk Dragon Enhancer, taking more and more each time—until the day he broke down, begging at her feet for another hit.

…

With the school bell ringing, PE class came to an end. The day was over.

Fu Ji sighed, “First, they ban you from skipping General Studies.”

“Then in Martial Arts class, they make you train only with basic techniques.”

“And now in PE, they’re injecting you with these ultra-toxic enhancers.”

“Each move more outrageous than the last.”

Though Zhang Yu appreciated the free access to basic techniques, he also clearly sensed the hidden malice in this gesture.

During a later conversation, Fu Ji voiced a similar opinion: “They’re obviously trying to waste your time. Are you sure you want to train with those basic techniques?”

Zhang Yu answered calmly, “I have my reasons. Building a solid foundation is a good thing for me.”

Fu Ji didn’t understand his logic, guessing it had something to do with his growth potential.

After PE, Zhang Yu also asked Bai Zhenzhen and the others how they felt after injecting the enhancer. Their responses were completely different—clearly, they’d been given a different drug altogether.

“They swapped my body-refining meds?” Zhang Yu frowned. “They’re targeting me specifically.”

After hearing his account, Bai Zhenzhen’s brow furrowed.

“I heard the student council proposed all these new school policies. Could it be that Zhou Chechen is back to his old tricks, trying to get back at us?”

Zhang Yu sighed. “That guy’s been quiet for a while… guess he’s starting trouble again.”

Just as Zhang Yu was about to leave school, Su Haifeng blocked his way, standing beside another middle-aged man.

Su Haifeng said blandly, “Zhang Yu, the school values your development. Since your Dao Techniques scores were subpar, we’ve specially hired a tutor to help you improve.”

“Starting today, you’ll study Dao Techniques with Teacher Zhou for four hours after school, every day.”

“Remember, under Songyang City rules, the four hours after school are still counted as official high school teaching hours. If there’s a tutoring schedule, you are not allowed to skip it.”

Zhang Yu was dumbfounded.

What kind of BS rule was that? After-school time counted as official school hours? Was that even legal?

And then he heard the subject: “Dao Techniques? Tutoring?”

Isn’t high school Dao Techniques just talismans?

And isn’t that just a money game—if you’ve got the cash, your grades go up; if you don’t, you fail?

What’s there to even tutor?

But once Zhang Yu was dragged into the classroom and saw the stack of three hundred exam papers waiting for him, he felt the full weight of institutional malice.

Teacher Zhou said dryly, “Start working on the papers. Go through each one a hundred times—understanding will come naturally.”

“From now on, you’ll do these exams daily. The more you practice, the better your test-taking skills for talismans will be.”

Zhang Yu squinted, seething inwardly. “They’re trying to waste another four hours of my day.”

Teacher Zhou, catching the change in his expression, sneered.

“What? Planning to defy the school’s official curriculum? Want a disciplinary action?”

Zhang Yu took a deep breath, then quietly sat down to work through the talisman papers.

…

Meanwhile, Bai Zhenzhen kicked open the student council office door with a loud bang.

She glared at He Dayou behind the desk. “Was that after-school talisman tutoring for Zhang Yu arranged by the student council?”

He Dayou quickly raised his hands. “Not my idea! It was all the president’s doing.”

“Where’s Zhou Chechen?”

Moments later, thunder crackled around Bai Zhenzhen’s body as she shot like lightning toward the high school training ground.

Seeing Zhou Chechen and Lan Ling cultivating in the distance, she called out coldly:

“Zhou Chechen, cancel Zhang Yu’s tutoring right now. Otherwise, starting today, I’ll challenge you every single day. I’ll beat you down every time I see you—let’s see how long you can show your face at school.”

Zhou Chechen didn’t even look up. He waved a hand lazily.

“Get rid of her. Don’t let her disturb our cultivation.”

In the next instant, a shadow appeared before Bai Zhenzhen—so fast she only had time to cross her arms in defense.

Bang!

She was sent flying like a meteor, crashing outside the training ground.

A young man strolled toward her with an easy smile.

“I’m Zhou Hao. I handle security for Zhou Chechen now.”

“So, what’s it gonna be? Want me to beat you senseless all the way out, or are you leaving on your own?”

With a soft whoosh, Zhou Hao instantly appeared in front of her.

He looked down and said, “By the way, I graduated from one of the 72 Lower Academies. Majored in security services.”

“With your high school level, you don’t stand a chance.”

Bai Zhenzhen stared him down, feeling the overwhelming pressure of someone at the peak of Qi Refinement. She knew he wasn’t bluffing.

“Seventy-two Lower Academies, huh…”

In the university system, aside from the Ten Great Academies, there were also 36 Upper Academies, 72 Lower Academies, and a pile of junior colleges and unknown institutes.

The 72 Lower Academies were the third-tier schools—not the most prestigious, but still a guarantee that the graduate had been cultivating at peak Qi Refinement for over ten years and had mastered countless level-10 techniques.

“Over ten years of cultivation difference…” Bai Zhenzhen gritted her teeth. Even at full strength, she knew she couldn’t beat him.

Seeing her leave decisively, Zhou Hao nodded.

“Smart. Knowing when to back down is a virtue.”

“Oh, and Zhou Chechen asked me to pass along a message: If we gave you a million credits, would you betray Zhang Yu?”

Bai Zhenzhen turned back without hesitation.

“Is that even a question? Send the money—I’ll stab him twice right now.”

Zhou Hao replied coolly, “Sign the contract first. Then we’ll send the cash.”

With a cold snort, Bai Zhenzhen turned and walked away.

Later, as she sat beside a small flowerbed to cultivate while waiting for Zhang Yu to finish class, she activated a detection ritual and sensed a camera focused on her.

“School cameras? No—that’s not where the school’s cameras are placed…”

As she felt the flickering glow in her field of vision, her frown deepened.

“Someone’s monitoring me in secret? Another one of Zhou Chechen’s men?”

If her tail was someone on Zhou Hao’s level, it would be near-impossible to shake.

“If they keep watching us… we won’t even be able to meet with the Dark Studies Gang.”

“This bastard is steadily cutting off every path we have—to cultivate, to make money…”

At that moment, Bai Zhenzhen felt a long-lost sense of pressure again.

With each new scheme Zhou Chechen rolled out, the pressure grew—more intense, more suffocating, more inescapable than anything he’d ever brought before.

It felt like they were being swallowed whole by an abyss, one dark and bottomless—one that would consume both her and Zhang Yu completely.