No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

As Huang Zichou laid out his confidentiality demands, Yu Xinghan cautiously asked, “Is there any payment for signing this contract?”

Huang Zichou didn’t respond. His cold gaze swept over, instantly crushing every ounce of courage Yu Xinghan had mustered.

Huang Zichou thought to himself, “Even I’m not getting paid—what makes you think you will?”

While everyone was busy signing the agreement, Ye Lingxiao interjected, “Why would I blab about what happened during the Foundation Establishment exam? But signing this contract… I’ll need to check with my family first.”

Deng Bingding gave him a sharp look and said, “Just sign it already.”

Two minutes later, everyone had signed the confidentiality contract, and the exam resumed.

Due to its intense side effects, each person was limited to a single Mana Dissolver Pill.

Zhang Yu, however, skipped the Mana Dissolver Pill entirely.

“Who knows how long the IQ drop from this stuff lasts? What if it’s permanent?”

Instead, he grabbed a handful of other Dao Heart-boosting supplements—the ones with more predictable side effects—and began guzzling them bottle by bottle.As he cultivated while chugging medicine, Zhang Yu could feel his Dao Heart, mana, and physical strength skyrocketing.

His score, which had lagged behind Ye Lingxiao’s, began catching up rapidly thanks to his pharmaceutical binge.

Meanwhile, Ye Lingxiao watched in disbelief as his lead evaporated. Desperate to stay ahead, he took two doses of God-Elephant Power Enhancer in just ten minutes.

His face turned red. Bulging veins writhed across his skin like they were ready to burst, while waves of agony rolled from his organs—his gut felt like it was dissolving from the inside out.

Yet a sliver of relief surfaced when Zhang Yu finally stopped.

“Reached your limit at last?”

Just as the thought crossed his mind, Zhang Yu raised his hand. “Proctor, can I use the restroom? I’m feeling way too full—I need to go relieve myself before I can keep eating.”

Yu Xinghan blinked. “Fullness?”

Under the stunned gaze of his peers, Zhang Yu returned from the bathroom and immediately downed another God-Elephant Power Enhancer, injected himself with a Vein-Expanding Injection, then resumed chugging Dao Heart potions one after another.

Ye Lingxiao wanted to take more god-tier meds to keep pace, but his body was already nearing its limit. Gritting his teeth, he had no choice but to give up—helplessly watching as Zhang Yu overtook him in the rankings.

As the one-hour medication window ended, the first half of the Foundation Establishment exam’s physical track came to a close.

Ye Lingxiao stared at the leaderboard, glaring at the first-place Zhang Yu and his own second-place standing, a deep frustration gnawing at his heart.

“It’s fine… There’s still the second half. With my strength, I can catch up. But what if I can’t?”

Suddenly, a thunderous boom echoed through the arena as five cylindrical tanks rose from the center of the testing grounds.

Deng Bingding explained, “These are the Sky Pillars. Each is only five meters tall, but they’re filled with Blackwater—a fluid capable of simulating water pressure from one meter to ten thousand meters deep.” Ꞧ𝒶Ｎo͍ＢÊʂ

“Now we’ll see how well you can endure the side effects of your medication while physically withstanding increasing pressure.”

“The stronger your endurance, physical strength, and bodily technique, the deeper you’ll be able to withstand within the Sky Pillar.”

“This second half tests the full range of your physical prowess.”

“And today’s final score for this second round will be the sum of both halves.”

“Now then—into the water.”

Zhang Yu strapped on an oxygen mask and dove straight into the Sky Pillar, his entire body submerged in the Blackwater as he sank to the very bottom.

Despite being underwater, he felt no pressure at all. The surrounding fluid felt as weightless as air.

“So this is Blackwater? It’s as light as air?”

But then the test began.

A display at the top of the Sky Pillar lit up: “-1 meter.”

Zhang Yu suddenly felt a tightness all around him. The once-airy Blackwater pressed in like normal liquid, coiling around his limbs and chest.

Only the oxygen mask remained unaffected, delivering him fresh air.

He watched the depth readout descend: -1 meter, -10 meters, then racing toward -100 meters. As the pressure mounted from all directions, Zhang Yu’s entire body began to strain under the weight.

Glancing at his Feathered Tome, he thought, “My current physical strength has reached Level 9.91?”

“That guy, number 23—Ye Lingxiao—he’s probably at a full Level 10. He’s likely trained more techniques than I have too, which means his bodily control is also better… He’s got the advantage here.”

“Hopefully that guy’s IQ dropped far enough to cause some major blunders.”

“No… Even if I lose this part, my score from the first half is strong enough to place me in the top two for today, which means I’ll advance to the next Foundation Establishment round and compete for the Foundation License.”

“If that’s the case, and I’m already guaranteed to pass, I might as well use this opportunity to get stronger.”

Rather than obsessing over short-term victory, Zhang Yu clearly prioritized long-term power.

With that, he began twisting and moving within the Blackwater.

He planned to take advantage of the still-manageable simulated depth and the raging medicinal power surging through his body to continue cultivating the Endless Spring and Autumn Meditation—further boosting his physical strength.

While Zhang Yu meditated, the entire exam room fell silent. Every student soaked in Blackwater, quietly conserving stamina as they endured the mounting pressure.

Meanwhile, the expressions of Deng Bingding, Huang Zichou, and the other Righteous Gods shifted ever so slightly.

They had just noticed a development in the other test arena.

…

Martial Arts Arena.

In front of a massive arena platform…

Dai Xingzhi was stretching, doing light warm-ups while his eyes remained fixed on Bai Zhenzhen.

Above both their heads hovered the same number: 1,000,000. This represented their “insurance quota” for the next bout.

The quota had been granted by Deng Bingding and the other Righteous Gods to each of the five martial arts test candidates.

Each combatant received a full one million-point medical insurance quota per match, which reset before every round.

During the match, every injury or wound they suffered would be instantly healed by divine formations embedded in the arena—at the cost of points from their quota.

In other words, as long as a fighter still had points left, they would always remain at peak physical condition.

But once a contestant’s insurance quota hit zero, they’d lose the match.

If someone got knocked out or flung from the ring, they’d also automatically lose—despite being instantly healed afterward.

Each round lasted a total of ten minutes. If no winner emerged by then, the contestant with the higher remaining insurance points would be declared the victor.

Right now, Dai Xingzhi stared at Bai Zhenzhen, a flicker of competitive spirit lighting up in his eyes.

As a top-tier Six-Ring talent from Xiandu City’s first-tier group, Dai Xingzhi usually scoffed at out-of-towners.

But Bai Zhenzhen was different.

Her performance in the last Foundation Establishment exam had been commendable, and during today’s matchups, she had already defeated two other opponents in succession.

Dai Xingzhi mused, “She’s taken down everyone except Yun Jing and me.”

“Assuming Yun Jing wins first place as expected, then the outcome between her and me decides who gets second.”

Even if he didn’t believe he could beat Yun Jing in the next round and win the Foundation License, Dai Xingzhi was confident that placing second would come with richer rewards.

“Judging from her previous fights, she’s fast and uses high-speed sword techniques.”

Dai Xingzhi had always been confident in his own speed.

Why? Because speed was economical.

Despite his Xiandu lineage, money was never abundant in the Dai family.

So when choosing a martial path, Dai Xingzhi had opted for the speed specialization—especially evasive techniques—over costly brawler or tank builds.

That wasn’t just personal preference; it was family doctrine.

Evade first, flee if you can’t dodge, stall if you can’t flee. Better to take a loss than a wound, and if you lose, you can still come back. But if you’re broke, you’re done. That’s been the Dai clan philosophy for generations.

To avoid injuries, Dai Xingzhi’s very first martial technique had been a movement (Technique).

To hone his awareness and dodging ability, most of his private sparring partners were also speed-type martial artists.

Dodging thrown weapons, surprise attacks, crowd ambushes—that was his daily training regimen.

As a result, in the last three arena rounds, he had used up the least insurance of any candidate.

Against Yun Jing, he’d even forfeited without fighting.

Because Dai Xingzhi realized something: “If you take hits that a million points of insurance can’t fix, you’ll be carrying those injuries into the next round.”

“Since I’d lose to Yun Jing anyway… might as well surrender and save myself for the next fight.”

“Now, if I beat this woman, I’ll be second place.”

As the Righteous Gods called out their names, Dai Xingzhi and Bai Zhenzhen stepped onto the platform.

With every step, illusionary afterimages shimmered around Dai Xingzhi’s body, his movements becoming increasingly elusive—like he had split into multiple versions of himself.

But to his surprise, Bai Zhenzhen simply sat down cross-legged once she reached the platform, as if she had no intention of fighting at all.

“This woman…”

Dai Xingzhi danced circles around her, but she didn’t even glance in his direction.

Then she finally spoke:

“You Xiandu people… You just got lucky being born in Xiandu. You slack off and still get into university. But if you’d been born where I’m from… you wouldn’t even make it through high school.”