No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

The recent economic crisis had thrown every industry into disarray, and Zhang Yu had assumed that the experiments on the Nascent Soul Law Husk would also be delayed.

“Judging by the schedule… my teacher’s artifact-refining progress hasn’t slowed at all. It’s as if the crisis outside doesn’t exist.”

He couldn’t help but admire True Lord Magneto’s focus—and the university’s clear prioritization of the Nascent Soul Law Husk project.

“After all, this is something the Nascent Soul True Lords themselves value, isn’t it?”

“To remain unaffected even amidst the clashes of Nascent Souls… only a project tied directly to their interests could do that.”

Thoughts flashed rapidly through his mind. Soon, Zhang Yu eagerly turned his attention to studying the effect of Heavenly Craft Opens Creation.

Under his active perception, he began to gradually understand what this mysterious ability truly did.

Closing his eyes, he visualized the schematics of the Merit Relic in his mind.

“I want to… lower the manufacturing cost of the Merit Relic.”

In an instant, sparks of thought flared within his mind. His consciousness accelerated beyond normal limits.Countless fragments of knowledge—everything he had ever studied, every artifact he had seen, every blueprint he had analyzed—appeared before him like flashes of lightning, connecting, merging, and transforming.

Moments later, a brand-new set of design schematics for the Merit Relic emerged in his mind.

This new blueprint, born from his subconscious fusion of all his accumulated knowledge, optimized the artifact’s design—cutting its cost by roughly thirty-two percent.

Although the Merit Relic was long outdated in the market, the very fact that his redesign had achieved such results filled Zhang Yu with awe at the potential of Heavenly Craft Opens Creation.

“So this is what it does—an ability that strengthens one’s artifact-design skills through accumulated learning.”

“It stores everything I’ve studied—knowledge, schematics, observed artifacts—as a foundation.”

“When I need it, it connects everything in an instant, producing an optimized redesign—improving weight, cost efficiency, material strength, mana storage, and other attributes.”

“The more I learn, the stronger the optimizations become.”

“And it works even better with artifacts of similar types.”

Zhang Yu thought to himself, “It’s an ability that grows stronger the more you learn—and the more you… copy.”

For the first time, he felt a deep hunger for knowledge unlike ever before.

Then a realization struck him. “If this ability grows by copying, then my teacher—who must have mastered it—probably studies a ton of similar artifacts before modifying her own designs.”

He recalled the Yang Artifact Law Husk they had recently refined together and muttered, “She must have a whole collection of blueprints from various schools and brands in her folder right now.”

But at that moment, his mind suddenly swam, his thoughts turning faint and unstable.

“The backlash?”

He opened his Feathered Tome and saw his Dao Heart data fluctuate—dropping from Level 20 to Level 19 (86%).

“So that’s it,” he realized. “Using Heavenly Craft Opens Creation burns through rational thought. It causes mental turbulence, leading to instability—and thus a drop in Dao Heart level.”

“The more complex the redesign, the greater the drain.”

“But this drop isn’t too bad. I’ll probably recover in about a week.”

Though minor, the incident taught him a crucial lesson—this ability couldn’t be used recklessly.

He recorded the new blueprint anyway. Even if the old version of the Merit Relic had been long outclassed—like trying to optimize a ten-year-old ocular husk—it was still a product of his Dao Heart, and worth keeping.

Yet as he wrote, he noticed something strange.

“Huh?”

“Why can’t I understand this part?”

“Logically, I should fully grasp every mechanism in the Merit Relic. I’ve studied its spirit-realm transmission tech, its internal sensory circuits—all of it.”

He reviewed his memories, every detail of the Merit Relic resurfacing clearly in his mind—every refinement, every iteration. He knew it inside out.

And yet, some segments of this new blueprint baffled him—not in execution, but in logic.

“I can follow it, but… why would I do it this way?”

His mind froze for a moment. “Wait… could it be… no way.”

Suddenly, he remembered the Supreme Purity Realm he shared with his sister—and the Greenlotus Sword Embryo he had copied from Bai Zhenzhen.

“Could it be that when I activated Heavenly Craft Opens Creation,” Zhang Yu thought, stunned, “I accidentally drew upon my teacher’s accumulated knowledge?”

As he stared at the new blueprint, realization dawned. The details aligned perfectly with her style.

“I combined my teacher’s foundation with mine—and created this design together!”

The more he thought about it, the more excited he became. “No wonder the optimization exceeded my expectations. I used her experience along with my own!”

“Truly amazing, True Lord Magneto—you’re the best teacher anyone could ask for!”

His admiration for his master overflowed; his desire for her to thrive had never been stronger.

“I can’t just let her do all the learning. I should help push her forward too—help her upgrade her Dao Seed.”

“If I can do that, not only will I benefit from her growth, but maybe she’ll even reach Nascent Soul before me.”

After all, helping his teacher achieve that level—and becoming the disciple of a Nascent Soul True Lord—was a far more attainable path than doing it himself.

The next day, Zhang Yu visited True Lord Magneto’s laboratory again, discreetly examining the upgrade conditions for her Dao Seed.

“So, to raise Heavenly Craft Opens Creation to Level 2… she needs to co-refine ten artifacts above Level 30?”

He gasped. “At my current level, that’s… going to take a while.”

Last time, he had only managed to join her project because of the Nascent Soul Law Husk collaboration. Opportunities like that wouldn’t come easily again.

Still, Zhang Yu was confident—if he persisted, he’d get there eventually.

He couldn’t wait to see what Heavenly Craft Opens Creation Lv. 2 would do.

True Lord Magneto glanced at him suspiciously. “Why is this kid looking at me like that?”

She turned and said, “Keep your head down these days—don’t spend money, don’t show off, just study quietly.”

Zhang Yu nodded. “Teacher, will the economic crisis last much longer?”

“It won’t,” she replied. “The higher-ups won’t let those old fossils run wild.”

“Even if the academies do go to war, this chaos isn’t what they want. Once it starts cutting into their interests, they’ll put a stop to it.”

“So stay put, hide in your dorm, and wait for the storm to pass. Don’t meddle in anything else.”

…

On his way back to the dorm, Zhang Yu received a message from Director Gao.

Director Gao: Zhang Yu, I need a favor.

Director Gao: The construction site on the 670th floor is getting out of control. Go and keep things in order.

With most projects halted and defensive arrays in emergency maintenance, the Wanfa University City was practically half a battlefield now.

Most ordinary jobs were suspended, leaving countless laborers idle.

But the Civil Engineering Department’s experts were busier than ever—assigned to maintain key spirit veins, arrays, and defensive structures.

As a result, sites like the 670th floor—lacking strong supervision—had fallen into chaos.

Many workers there were Foundation Establishment cultivators who’d been unemployed for years, taking on short-term labor out of desperation.

They often abused their seniority, leading to missing materials, broken surveillance arrays, and even vanished demon-kin laborers.

When Zhang Yu arrived, the scene was messy: workers arguing, jobs overlapping, fights breaking out.

He frowned. “They didn’t stop the construction of the new layer of the University City… is this another project tied to the Nascent Souls’ interests?”

Without saying much more, he activated Heavenly Kunlun Mountain-Moving Might.

Earthfiend gravity surged outward, sweeping through the site—cement churned, steel beams flew into place, and entire sections were finished in moments.

The sheer force of his display silenced the crowd. Gradually, the workers—awed by his might—fell in line. Order returned to the chaotic site.

Outside the fence, he spotted Ying Xin and Shi Yunxiang watching quietly.

They hadn’t managed to secure positions here, so they simply squatted nearby, gazing enviously at the busy workers within.

Shi Yunxiang looked gaunt, his fur dry and streaked with white, his eyes wary and haunted—life clearly hadn’t been kind to him lately.

Beside him, Ying Xin’s Law Husk showed visible damage—her right arm hung crooked and limp, like a stray dog with a broken leg.