No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

Zhang Yu scrolled through the newly purchased Resentment Fiend Technique on his phone, carefully studying every line.

This expert-grade technique had once commanded top prices, but due to its reliance on ambient resentment for cultivation, its market value had plummeted. Zhang Yu managed to snag it for just 500,000.

After thoroughly reviewing the content, he prepared to follow the outlined method to channel mana and temper his body.

He touched the badge hanging on his chest. It bore the words “Frontline Staff,” and was continuously drawing in resentment from the surrounding air.

The badge was, in fact, an External Spirit Root—the Resentment Root—delivered by Zhou Chechen’s people.

Its badge-like appearance, rumor had it, made it more effective at storing resentment.

As Zhang Yu channeled his mana into the Resentment Root, the world transformed before his eyes.

Moments ago, Songyang High School had appeared serene and peaceful. Now, to his senses, it surged with rising tendrils of black mist. Within those wisps twisted contorted faces, wailing with ghostly howls.

“So this is resentment…”

Zhang Yu understood that resentment was the spiritual residue of human negativity. It flourished in graveyards, schools, and corporations throughout Kunxu.While graveyards were renowned for their pure, long-aged resentment, schools and companies—populated by the living—produced resentment in far greater volume.

Still, the old resentment of the dead was considered more refined and thus fetched a higher price on the market.

He mused, “As Fu Ji said, if you’ve got enough ancestors buried deep enough and long enough, you can make bank just by leasing your family tomb as a training ground.”

“Ugh, if only the original Zhang Yu’s ancestors had bought even a modest plot. He barely had enough savings to cover corpse disposal fees.”

He directed the Resentment Root to inhale deeply, drawing in thin threads of resentment through his nose and mouth.

In an instant, waves of intense fury, humiliation, regret, and despair surged into Zhang Yu’s mind—emotions from underachievers facing plummeting rankings, failing grades, and public humiliation.

Zhang Yu quickly activated the Sacrificial Oxheart Technique to shield his consciousness and began refining the resentment as instructed in the Resentment Fiend Technique

.The technique’s core process involved collecting resentment, purifying it of emotional noise, distilling it into pure fiendish energy, and using corpse-tempering methods to reinforce one’s flesh—ultimately forging an iron-hard Corpseplate Skin impervious to blade or bullet.

Several minutes later, Zhang Yu finished his first round of training, staggering slightly. A faint chill spread across a palm-sized patch of skin on his chest.

He thought, “If I go step by step, it might take half a year or more to master this.”

“Thankfully, with the Feathered Tome and my hard work, I can speed up the process.”

He glanced at the Feathered Tome, which showed the Resentment Fiend Technique had leveled from 0 (0/1) to 1 (2/10).

The High School Saint Body’s ultimate effect was this: for any Qi Refinement–level technique, each training cycle counted triple.

That was the confidence behind his plan—to go full-throttle for three months and build a solid foundation for the Martial Saint Embryo.

Within a few more rounds, a thunderclap seemed to echo through his mind. Images of resentment being refined into armor over his chest flashed rapidly.

He could feel something growing beneath the skin of his chest—a membrane-like layer wrapping him tightly.

“Level 1 complete.”

Recalling the training steps, he noted, “Each level of the Resentment Fiend Technique tempers a different part of the body. By level 10, you’ve got a full-body Corpseplate Skin—like an armored bodysuit that boosts your defense massively.” 𝘙Α𝐍ỔΒĘᶊ

He resumed training, pushing to reach level 10 before time ran out.

…

Time slipped by. Dusk fell. School ended.

Under the night sky, 999 silver needles sparkled with electric arcs, piercing precise points across Bai Zhenzhen’s body.

As she activated the Thunderquake True Body, electric energy danced across the needles, stimulating every nerve and muscle.

She could feel her physical strength rising—but more than that, her long-dormant nervous system was reawakening. Thanks to the Thunder Acupuncture Needle Set

, it was once again growing, giving her sharper, faster control over her body.The Thunderquake True Body might have once been a second-rate technique. But now—combined with a True Spirit Root, enhanced Thunder Mana, and this specialized artifact—it rivaled the very best expert-grade body-refining techniques.

Suddenly, the electric arcs dimmed.

A voice echoed from the needle box: “Power low. Please recharge promptly.”

Bai Zhenzhen withdrew the 999 needles and turned to Zhang Yu. “Yuzi, time to head to the Dark Studies Gang?”

Zhang Yu, mid-practice, opened his eyes. Fiendish energy flickered in his gaze.

After a full day’s effort, he had driven the Resentment Fiend Technique up to level 8 (15/90).

His entire body—except for his face—was now sheathed beneath the skin in a fine, protective membrane. It lay dormant most of the time, but with a flex of effort, it transformed into a layer of living armor.

Fu Ji, watching the subtle patterns now visible on his forearms, thought in awe: “He’s progressing so fast! It’s like he’s close to mastering it already.”

“His potential really skyrocketed after that last breakthrough…”

“Good, good, good. Once he gets his Foundation License and hits Floor Two of Kunxu, the sky’s the limit!”

Zhang Yu stood and stretched his newly armored limbs. “Let’s go.”

Before leaving, Bai Zhenzhen plugged the acupuncture set back in to recharge.

Once out the gate, the two activated their movement techniques, found a secluded spot to change appearance, and flew toward the Dark Studies Gang’s base.

…

Disguised as tutors Ma Yunteng and Le Mulan, they arrived at the outskirts of the tutoring district.

What they found instead were chaos and flashing lights—Xianyun Group’s security forces patrolling, constables assisting, and members of the Dark Studies Gang being dragged out in cuffs.

A bruised and dirt-smeared tutoring instructor wailed, “It’s my first time! I swear, I’ve never tutored illegally before!”

A nearby constable scoffed, “Do your parents know what you’re doing?”

“My family believes in me! They’d never think I’d stoop to something like this!”

“I was just tempted by quick money… Thought a couple sessions wouldn’t hurt…”

“I really regret it—I’ve let my parents down. They didn’t raise me to run illegal cram sessions…”

“Please, I’m broke… I can’t pay the fines…”

An older constable warned, “Everyone in this underground tutoring scene fakes their names, IDs, motives. Don’t believe a word they say. You’ll learn with time.”

Hidden in the shadows, Zhang Yu gasped. “They busted the Dark Studies Gang?”

Bai Zhenzhen sighed. “So what now? Do we find a new gang and start over?”

Fu Ji interjected, “Don’t forget that broker—Black Crow. He’s your contact.”

“Hit him up.”

“Just because they took one site doesn’t mean the whole gang’s gone.”

Zhang Yu remembered. He had added Black Crow as a friend in the Kunshen World app.

He messaged the broker, and soon got the full update: chaos was roiling the dark tutoring scene in Songyang.

The rivalry between the Dark Studies Gang and the Golden Tutoring Gang had turned vicious—syllabus theft, textbook arson, assassination attempts on top tutors, tip-offs to regulators… it was all on the rise.

Zhang Yu suspected that the true battle was between their backers: Deep Sea Education Group and Xianyun Group.

He thought, “If those two behemoths are escalating, no wonder the whole city feels more cutthroat this year.”

Still, he shelved that thought and focused on the here and now.

Black Crow explained that the turf war had left the Dark Studies Gang short on gold-star tutors, and they were recruiting both lecturers and fighters fast.

Bai Zhenzhen asked, “So, what subject pays best right now? Can I cash in on my techniques?”

“Just teaching high schoolers and construction workers doesn’t rake in cash fast enough.”

Zhang Yu asked Black Crow, who replied with a dynamic flyer.

It showed a group of white-haired elders training hard. One spry old man declared:

“I’m ninety. I’ve got elders above and juniors below. It’s my prime time to grind!”

“I want to treat my 130-year-old parents to ready-made meals. I want to enroll my 60-year-old son in tutoring classes. I want to rent a sewer-adjacent unit for my 30-year-old grandson. I want my 5-year-old great-granddaughter to get into a top-tier preschool—how can I stop learning? How can I let myself get laid off?”

“Back then, a 100-year-old Prime Minister reclaimed lost territories. A 500-year-old demon became human. A 1000-year-old granny married an Immortal!”

The elder clenched his fist and bellowed, eyes blazing:

“Keep grinding! You’re never too old to hustle!”