No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

March arrived in the blink of an eye.

Inside the Meditation Chamber, Zhang Yu slowly opened his eyes. A faint glint of light flickered within them for just an instant.

He turned to glance at the Feathered Tome beside him. On its panel, the numbers clearly displayed: Dao Heart Level 10, Mana 100, Physical Strength Level 10.

After these past days of cultivation, Zhang Yu’s Dao Heart had finally reached the peak limit of the Qi Refining Realm—Level 10.

With that breakthrough, he felt every muscle, every strand of mana in his body move with seamless coordination, as smooth and natural as breathing. There was no longer that frustrating sensation of power not reaching its full potential.

But on the other hand... in the Sea of Consciousness, the image of the Sacrificial Ox that he visualized was growing sluggish and lazy, its expression lethargic. Even the broken horn on its head had lost its former edge—blunt and dull now.

Zhang Yu checked his current bank balance: 19 million. Another major step closer to the Heavenly Spiritual Root.

Ever since those digits began climbing, his daily cultivation had grown easier. His calendar now teemed with social events and engagements alongside Director Wang. And with that change, the Sacrificial Oxheart Technique’s effects—stimulating his potential, strengthening his flesh, invigorating his body—were clearly waning.

“Is it because my life’s gotten too comfortable? Not enough pressure? This Technique does perform better under stress.”

Zhang Yu wasn’t sure. He simply thought to himself, “But life will only get better from here.”“My grades are improving, my income’s rising—maybe it’s time to switch to a technique more suited to my current situation?”

“After all, the Sacrificial Oxheart Technique was designed for people at the bottom.”

He thought of Le Mulan, Song Hailong, Yu Xinghan, Ye Lingxiao, and even Director Wang.

Maybe it was time to ask those wealthy folks for recommendations on new Heart Techniques.

“Without realizing it, I’m starting to become a rich man too.”

“So I need to adapt to the cultivation styles of the wealthy. Use techniques fit for their world, right?”

And whether it was his imagination or not, the moment that thought rose in his mind, the ox in his Sea of Consciousness grew even lazier, more devoid of drive and vitality.

Just then, his phone buzzed—it was a call from Mo Tianyi.

Mo Tianyi, a member of the Alliance of the Resentful Poor.

After Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen pledged allegiance to Zhang Pianpian last year, Mo Tianyi had cut off all contact with them.

Following the death of Song Xu, the Alliance’s leader and a follower of the Evil God, the group had all but disintegrated. Zhang Yu hadn’t heard from any of them in ages.

So seeing Mo Tianyi’s name on the screen did surprise him, but he still answered the call.

A hesitant voice came through. “Zhang... Zhang Yu, hey.”

Zhang Yu had not only skyrocketed in value but had also reached the peak of Qi Refining. Backed by the Oasis Group’s campaigns and the prestige of the Foundation License, he had become a household name on the First Floor of Kunxu—a wealthy, prominent figure.

To someone like Mo Tianyi, Zhang Yu now felt like a giant from another world—far beyond the reach of high schoolers like them.

Zhang Yu responded casually, “What’s up?”

“I wanted to borrow some money,” Mo Tianyi said in a small voice.

“Ever since our leader passed, things haven’t been going well. The company’s cut our pay, and one of our guys had an accident while delivering food…”

Zhang Yu recalled the 20,000 yuan that Mo Tianyi had once invested in him and Bai Zhenzhen.

It wasn’t much now, but back then, it was a lifeline—money that had saved them.

With that memory in mind, Zhang Yu said, “Got it. I’ll transfer you 100,000 shortly. If you need anything else, just reach out.”

“Th-thank you.”

“We’ll definitely pay you back someday!”

Mo Tianyi hadn’t expected such generosity. In his eyes, no rich person—no matter how wealthy—would lend money without a benefit in return.

Yet Zhang Yu’s straightforward kindness broke that stereotype, and Mo Tianyi couldn’t help but add, “Zhang Yu, you’re the role model for all of us poor students. No other high schooler on the First Floor of Kunxu has ever achieved what you have.”

“You don’t know how good it felt when everyone heard your scores, when you made it into the Ten Major Sects—you slapped those rich kids right in the face.”

“Now all the students in our schools are fired up. They’re working harder than ever thanks to you…”

Zhang Yu didn’t quite know how to respond to that.

After a long pause, he finally hung up to Mo Tianyi’s repeated thanks. Then, he found himself checking the latest news on salary cuts.

It turned out that after the major clans and companies began joining forces, the first thing they did was slash wages across the board.

Zhang Yu read various analysts online saying that the annual flood of high school graduates—and university students returning to the First Floor—was making the job market increasingly hostile.

And with the corporations collectively lowering wages and benefits, most workers had no choice but to quietly accept it just to keep their jobs.

Fu Ji commented, “What’s the point of reading this? It doesn’t concern us.”

“Even if it wasn’t you and Bai Zhenzhen, the Oasis Group would’ve used Ye Lingxiao for their campaign. The outcome would be the same—this is just how the world works.”

Zhang Yu sneered. “You think I didn’t know that? I was just curious, browsing the news.”

“Director Wang is such a big-shot, of course I’m gonna cling to him and never let go.”

Fu Ji thought to herself, “This guy… always sticking his nose into things that don’t concern him, even though he came from nothing.”

She reminded him, “As long as you keep climbing, you’ll get richer and richer. You need to blend into the world of the wealthy and leave the poor behind. Got it?”

“You should’ve blocked someone like Mo Tianyi on the spot. Why bother with him?”

“They helped me once,” Zhang Yu said nonchalantly. “As for the wealthy crowd... yeah, I get it. Different backgrounds mean different habits, different mindsets. That gap’s natural.”

“I need to get used to the way rich people talk and live. Make more friends among them. Only then can I climb higher in Kunxu... and become stronger.”

Zhang Yu understood. Of course he did.

Stay away from the poor. Get close to the rich. That was one of the golden rules of climbing the ladder in Kunxu.

But for some reason, he couldn’t shake the discomfort in his chest.

…

At lunch in the cafeteria, Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen were still sitting with Qian Shen and Zhao Tianxing.

The only change was that recently, Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen’s trays were piled high with deluxe synthetic meat, while Zhao Tianxing had started eating plain, flavorless base-grade synthetic food.

Zhang Yu had wondered if it was due to some financial trouble in Zhao Tianxing’s family, or perhaps it had something to do with the recent price hikes in synthetic food.

Yes—synthetic food had gotten more expensive.

Once the cheap alternative that squeezed out ready-made meals, synthetic food was now rising in price as Oasis Group tightened its grip on the market.

The green food line that Zhang Yu had endorsed had also surged in price thanks to the explosive popularity of the Foundation Establishment exam and the company’s marketing.

Nowadays, even regular high school students knew they had to eat green food, sign up for the Foundation Establishment exam, and gamble on that one-shot rise to immortality.

According to Oasis Group’s projections, their promotional campaign would bring in hundreds of thousands of high school applicants for next year’s exam on the First Floor of Kunxu alone—a market worth drooling over.

Looking at Zhao Tianxing’s tray of plain food, Zhang Yu figured his friend’s parents had probably been hit by those wage cuts too.

“Ugh, this chicken breast tastes awful.” Zhang Yu slid his tray over. “Old Zhao, help me finish it. I can’t stomach another bite.”

Zhao Tianxing froze for a second, eyeing the synthetic chicken breast, then swallowed hard.

Sensitive as he was, Zhao Tianxing could tell Zhang Yu was doing this on purpose—to give him food.

The gesture filled him with both shame and gratitude. In the end, he quietly said thank you and accepted the meal.

…

Time passed, and Zhang Yu’s cushy life brought him into April.

By now, even if he did nothing all day, a sizable amount of money would still land in his account each month.

His bank balance had surpassed 24 million.

One day, he and Bai Zhenzhen visited the newly completed Oasis Tower to attend the group’s next promotional strategy meeting.

“Lately, incomes have been dropping across the board, while food prices keep rising.”

“Our group is aware of the issue and has decided to take action…”

Zhang Yu perked up at the product manager’s words. He instinctively glanced at Director Wang and wondered, “Is this because of him? Is Oasis Group trying to give back? Help people eat better?”

He thought of the school cafeteria’s current state and felt a flicker of hope.

Then the product manager boomed, “To ensure everyone can have a full meal, we’re launching Food Loans!”

“By allowing installment payments, we’ll lower the barrier to buying synthetic and green food, making sure everyone can eat.”

“Our first promotional wave will target students. We’ll enter schools and make sure every student has access to emergency food funds when they can’t afford a meal.”

Zhang Yu listened as slides scrolled by, filled with terms about food, finance, interest, collateral. Buzzwords like zero interest for new users, subscription discounts...

And suddenly, he remembered what it was like when he couldn’t afford food himself.

If that Zhang Yu had been offered this, he probably would’ve gone into debt just to eat—piling on Food Loans until it crushed him.

Just then, Director Wang patted both Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen on the shoulder.

“This financial service campaign is crucial. Our end goal is simple: for every person eating on the First Floor, there should be a corresponding loan.”

“This is key to our market strategy.”

“Don’t worry. I always take care of my own.”

“You two work hard this coming year.”

“When you enroll at Netherworld University next year, I’ll be heading back too.”

“I’ll hook you up with internships at financial firms on the Second Floor. Once you have some experience, I’ll recommend you for transfer to the finance track…”

As he spoke, Director Wang adjusted Zhang Yu’s collar and frowned.

“You and Ah-Zhen need better clothes. I gave you the money—use it.”

“And that Training Skin you’re wearing? Total fake. Looks like cheap synthetic. Swap it for real one, or you’ll embarrass me at parties.”

“Got it? If you’re short on cash, I’ll cover it.”

Bai Zhenzhen quickly replied, “Understood, Director Wang. We’ll change outfits tonight.”

She nudged a dazed Zhang Yu. Only then did he snap out of it and say, “Yeah... I got it.”

But Director Wang’s words still echoed in Zhang Yu’s mind:

“To make sure every person who eats... also owes money.”