No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

When Bai Zhenzhen spoke, Dai Xingzhi raised an eyebrow and said coldly, “Oh? You think competing in Xiandu is easier than in other cities?”

“Isn’t it?” Bai Zhenzhen replied matter-of-factly. “Doesn’t Xiandu get more university slots than any other city every year?”

“If we’re competing with odds of one in a hundred, then you’re only facing one in ten—or even one in three.”

“If enrollment weren’t city-quota based and students across all of Kunxu First Floor had to fight for spots directly, your precious Xiandu quota would’ve been snatched clean ages ago.”

Dai Xingzhi chuckled and said, “Naïve. The Immortal Dao is all about money. Xiandu is the wealthiest city on Kunxu First Floor. The resources we have outstrip those of your backwater towns. No matter the contest, we’ll always have the overwhelming advantage.”

A sliver of Xiandu pride crept across Dai Xingzhi’s face as he continued, “If admissions were unified across the First Floor, every Xiandu high schooler would get into university. We’d even take all the Ten Great Academies’ slots.”

Bai Zhenzhen let out a dry laugh. “You’re real proud, huh? But I can tell from your accent—you’re not originally from Xiandu, are you? Were you born there? Or was it your dad or grandpa who came from the sticks?”

Under the stage, some Xiandu students smirked at that, but quickly reined it in. Still, their glances toward Bai Zhenzhen carried a flicker of surprise—they hadn’t expected an outsider to catch the subtle difference in Dai Xingzhi’s accent.

The moment she used the word “outsider” and brought up his accent, a flush rose on Dai Xingzhi’s face. Enraged, he snapped, “I was born in Xiandu, damn it! You’re the outsider!”

He moved in a flash, trailing afterimages as his body blurred—four mirror images of him closed in on Bai Zhenzhen from different angles, encircling her.Though fury colored Dai Xingzhi’s expression, inwardly he remained cool and composed.

“You think I’d fall for such a basic provocation?”

Ambushes, taunts, insults—these basic but vital combat techniques were something every Xiandu student was trained in from the start. Dai Xingzhi had long been battle-hardened.

He’d even studied specialty courses like “How to Discriminate Against Outsiders” and “Three Sentences to Tilt a Foreigner,” mastering an arsenal of tactics specifically designed to rattle opponents from out of town and gain the upper hand.

After all, when it came to enraging outsiders, no one had the natural advantage like a Xiandu native. Dai Xingzhi saw that as a talent too valuable not to cultivate.

So, the moment Bai Zhenzhen spoke, he saw through her.

“Trying to get under my skin?”

“Then I’ll pretend I’m pissed…”

His figure flickered and he launched a palm strike straight for Bai Zhenzhen’s head.

He looked furious—face flushed, eyes burning with rage—and the palm he struck out with seemed full of openings.

But in truth, Dai Xingzhi’s thoughts were razor-sharp. The palm was deliberately weak, conserving his strength for a devastating follow-up.

He was sure: if Bai Zhenzhen went for the bait and attacked through the false opening, she’d be critically wounded by his real move.

His legs were already secretly tensed, ready to retreat at full speed at the first sign of danger.

Always leave a way out. Never risk injury lightly. That philosophy, passed down through generations of the Dai family, was the reason they’d thrived in Xiandu.

Bang!

To Dai Xingzhi’s shock, Bai Zhenzhen tilted her head and took the hit with her shoulder, throwing off his entire follow-up plan.

In that split second of confusion, he saw something blazing in Bai Zhenzhen’s eyes: the resolve to stake it all.

She had been observing him from the moment she stepped onto the stage—his movements, his techniques, his habits.

Like him, she knew he was her greatest rival in this fight for the top two spots.

Her analysis had led her to one conclusion: Dai Xingzhi was a cautious fighter. His agility and footwork were top-tier, and his speed was on par with hers. ŘÄＮỗ𝐁Ɛ𝙎

“He’s a senior from Xiandu, after all.”

“His physical strength’s above mine, and apart from the Infinite Sword Meditation, most of his techniques are probably higher quality than mine. If I face him head-on... my win rate’s maybe thirty to forty percent.”

“I need to exploit his weaknesses. Draw the battle into a realm I’m good at…”

“If he’s this cautious, this good at dodging injuries, then he probably sucks at going all out.”

To Bai Zhenzhen, a 1-million spiritual energy insurance policy was already an astronomical sum. But to a Xiandu rich kid like Dai Xingzhi, that amount was a drop in the bucket—too small to offer any real sense of safety.

People like him hated risking their lives. But someone like her—broke to the bone—had to gamble her life just to scrape together what rich kids took for granted.

So she provoked him. Took his hits on purpose. All to open up one chance for a close-range, all-in strike.

She hadn’t expected him to be even more cautious than she thought—that even his “angry” palm had been a feint.

But it didn’t matter anymore…

Their eyes locked. At this distance, point-blank range, lightning and battlelust crackled in Bai Zhenzhen’s gaze.

She had one goal left.

To unleash the strongest, fastest, most ruthless sword strike she could muster. To gamble all her strength—and see who’s insurance hit zero first.

She’d been building up mana using her Expert-Grade Breathing Technique: the Storm-Tide Ninefold Cycle.

This technique followed a principle of perpetual growth—the longer the breathing, the stronger the effect. During her last Foundation Establishment exam, it had already proved its worth.

Now, after nine complete cycles, her mana exploded like a spring stretched to its limit.

Every technique she had, enhanced through True Spirit Root optimization, activated in unison.

Over the past few months, Bai Zhenzhen had used her True Spirit Root to refine all her techniques, pushing them to their optimal Level 10 forms—every one of them speed-based.

Even if her techniques weren’t as luxurious as her opponent’s, they were tuned perfectly to her combat style.

Thunderstep surged through her body, lightning mana arcing across nerves, muscles, and meridians. Its Level 10 effect pushed her sword arm to extreme speeds.

Piercing Sword Aura surged from her dantian, crackling with electric light, hurtling through her meridians like a cannonball.

Her Formless Sword Technique, an expert-grade combat skill, caused sword intent to ripple outward even before she struck—disrupting the air to reduce wind resistance.

The Frost Soul Iceheart Technique brought her mind to a cold, crystalline focus under life-or-death pressure, pushing her mana and body to their peak.

Lightning mana coursed through her, driving everything faster! Faster! Even faster!

Dai Xingzhi had flinched—but sensing Bai Zhenzhen’s terrifying resolve, he reacted quickly.

He stomped the ground, kicking up a whirlwind. His right leg vanished from view, leaving only a torrent of force aimed at Bai Zhenzhen’s dantian.

Both moved with blistering speed. Their clash would be over in a heartbeat.

But to the Righteous Gods watching from all around, that heartbeat stretched long and slow.

They could see the snarl on Dai Xingzhi’s face. The static-lifted strands of Bai Zhenzhen’s hair. The flicker of lightning and wind in the air…

And in that frozen moment, the gods exchanged thoughts across the internal Divine Power Network.

Huang Zichou observed, “Didn’t think two such speedsters would settle it in a single strike. I thought they’d dance around each other for ten whole minutes.”

Another god analyzed, “In a close-quarters moment like this—where both go all out—what gets tested is a fighter’s truest, most instinctive reaction.”

Huang Zichou glanced at Bai Zhenzhen’s sword-finger strike, felt the raw power of her lightning-infused Piercing Sword Aura, and sensed the absolute, death-defying courage behind it.

Then he looked at Dai Xingzhi—at the whirlwind his leg kick created, at the muscles pushed to their limits.

But…

He said, “Even though Dai Xingzhi went all out… maybe it’s habit. Maybe it’s an instinctive fear of injury. Maybe it’s just second nature by now…”

“All those little habits—bit by bit—made him hold back. Even now, in his most genuine reaction… he couldn’t give it everything.”

While the Righteous Gods spoke in hyper-speed over the network—

Boom!

Wind exploded. Lightning flashed. Bai Zhenzhen and Dai Xingzhi struck.

A thunderous blast shook the air. Bai Zhenzhen was flung backward, coughing up blood and bits of her shattered organs.

Dai Xingzhi, on the other hand, clutched a gaping hole in his chest—his wound rapidly knitting shut under divine healing.

And above them both, their insurance values plummeted in sync—

Until they hit zero.