No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

Late September.

Inside the laboratory.

Jin Jun glanced at the materials that had once again gone up in price and secretly felt a bit relieved.

“Good thing I stocked up early on the materials needed for the Heaven-Sun Radiance Divine Prototype. I won’t need to restock for another month or two.”

“Let’s hope this Heavenly Calamity of Economics ends soon.”

These days, Jin Jun hardly went out. He spent all his time holed up in the lab, pushing forward the progress of the Heaven-Sun Radiance Divine Prototype, ignoring the chaos outside.

…

Returning from work, Yu Xinghan spotted a few familiar faces before even reaching the dormitory gate.

Seeing Su Yanyang and Xiao Yunji, Yu Xinghan chuckled. “Here for a check-up again? How about a massage afterward? I’ll give you guys the lowest price in history.”

With the economic crisis continuing to worsen, more and more students were starting to feel the strain.Su Yanyang had come to see Xiao Qingxuan for a medical treatment. In his hands were several bottles of everyday pills used for suppressing sleep, replacing food, and nourishing blood and Qi—payment for Xiao Qingxuan’s services.

Beside him, Xiao Yunji had come to Zhang Yu to have his Law Husk maintained, also having his detachable components removed to reduce his burden. Of course, Zhang Yu charged for such services—but his rates were still far cheaper than the market’s, which made Xiao Yunji feel it was a great deal.

Su Yanyang said lazily, “Massage? No thanks… I’d rather get more sleep.”

Yu Xinghan looked surprised. “Sleep?”

Su Yanyang replied casually, “Sleeping means eating less medicine, exercising less, consuming less—it’s the most efficient way to get through these days, don’t you think?”

Crouching nearby was another unkempt figure—Li Xiao.

Yu Xinghan knew that lately, Li Xiao had been coming to Zhang Yu every day at the same time, waiting for him to come off work and feed him a bit of mana.

The rest of the time, according to Yu Xinghan’s understanding, Li Xiao was likely squatting near the outer edges of the underground catacombs, absorbing scattered Spiritual essence and ash that leaked out.

But today, Li Xiao wasn’t alone—he’d brought along another dusty, dirt-smeared figure.

“Ji Yuanshu?” Yu Xinghan thought with a sigh as Ji Yuanshu turned his head away. “At this rate, Zhang Yu’s gonna turn our dorm and its surroundings into a homeless shelter.”

Just then, Zhang Yu arrived. Li Xiao and Ji Yuanshu immediately bounded up to him like two hungry squirrels.

After the feeding was done, they watched Zhang Yu disappear into the dormitory. Li Xiao sighed. “If only Zhang Yu would let us stay at his place too.”

Ji Yuanshu replied, “Don’t be ridiculous. Focus on studying. Right now’s the best time to pull ahead—or fall behind.”

Li Xiao sighed again, a bitter thought surfacing. “If I hadn’t gone to college… I’d still be in the first floor of Kunxu, living easier. Wouldn’t have to struggle like a beggar every day. Maybe life would be happier.”

Of course, Zhang Yu had no intention of bringing Li Xiao or Ji Yuanshu into the dorm.

The room was already crowded, and their available Spiritual essence was barely enough as it was—there was no way to take in more people.

Besides, he wasn’t close to them. Feeding them a few mouthfuls of mana was just his way of preventing them from dying at his doorstep.

Fu Ji muttered, “Zhang Yu’s getting too softhearted. People like them should be beaten and driven off whenever they show up—don’t let their poverty stink stick to you.”

Zhang Yu thought to himself, “If it were the me who just arrived on the second floor, I probably would’ve ignored them completely.”

“But now… I’m stronger, richer. I have the freedom to make choices based on my own will—not just be forced to submit to this damned Kunxu’s cruelty.”

Every time he thought that, Zhang Yu threw himself even harder into his studies in the Spiritual Realm, chasing greater strength and a grander future.

And indeed, ever since focusing most of his efforts on the Supreme Purity Realm, combined with his talent in artifact refinement, his progress had been astounding.

Merit Relic, Self-Manifesting Soul Ring, Overtime Restraint Band, Free Lotus Platform… one blueprint after another, mastered and pushed to Level 20. Zhang Yu now understood the knowledge and technology hidden within them on a deep level.

He estimated, “Another two or three weeks, and I’ll have mastered all the technology needed for the Heaven-Sun Radiance Divine Prototype. Then I can start forging it.”

But before that could happen, new changes swept through Wanfa University.

First, daily outing hours were restricted. Then Spiritual Realm data usage was limited. Then came rationing of medicines and Spirit stones. With Spiritual essence being rationed, even old, outdated Spirit stones suddenly became valuable again.

Outside the dorm, Ji Yuanshu suddenly slapped Li Xiao across the face and hissed, “Unemployed? Are you crazy? Do you even know what that is, touching it so casually?”

Li Xiao mumbled weakly, “I heard they were giving out red envelopes.”

“I’m scared too,” Li Xiao said helplessly. “But I’m out of money. I can’t live like this anymore.”

Ji Yuanshu bit his lip. “I have a contact in the Finance Department who can help you get a card—but just one. Do not apply for more.”

Inside the dorm, a message popped up in Zhang Yu’s ocular network.

Su Yanyang: Zhang Yu, can I borrow some Spirit coins?

Su Yanyang: I’ll pay you back with bank interest.

Zhang Yu: [1 Spirit coin]

Su Yanyang: Thanks. Any more?

Zhang Yu: Nope.

Su Yanyang: It’s getting dangerous out there. Be careful. Don’t go through unmonitored areas.

Elsewhere, Shi Huaiyu grumbled as she checked her medicine stash. “Damn it… daily purchase limits are one thing, but this short-weight nonsense? How much are they skimming off the top?”

With medicine supplies shrinking daily, Zhang Yu could feel his body growing hungrier and weaker.

He knew that without enough medicinal nourishment, his blood and Qi would decline—his physical strength could even regress.

After all, cultivators like him consumed far more energy than normal.

So Zhang Yu began looking for ways to buy more medicine.

First, he tried contacting True Lord Magneto and Director Gao.

But with the escalating crisis, both teachers were busier than ever. Neither responded.

Then, through Yu Xinghan, Zhang Yu reached Li Xuelian, who connected him with the black-market pharmaceutical circles.

But prices there had skyrocketed beyond belief.

Fu Ji cursed. “Those damn pharmacology departments must be the ones flooding the black market—limiting supply on one side and gouging people on the other!”

Zhang Yu next reached out through Le Mulan to her advisor, Yin Jiurao.

That professor, who had once written a research paper using Zhang Yu as a subject, was willing to supply him with some extra medicine—but at a cost.

Outside her office, Le Mulan looked at Zhang Yu with guilt. “Zhang Yu…”

He smiled and shook his head. “It’s fine. I’ll be out soon.”

Clenching her fists, Le Mulan said, “Please bear with it this time. I’ll find a way to get more medicine soon.”

As Zhang Yu disappeared into the office, and the noises inside began, Le Mulan’s chest filled with helpless anger. She hated her own weakness—hated that Zhang Yu had to trade his precious materials just for these cheap medicines.

When Zhang Yu returned with a large box of medicine, he finally felt full again. He shared a few bottles with his roommates and gave half a bottle to Li Xiao and Ji Yuanshu outside.

That night, everyone felt the comforting warmth of restored strength.

But then, during a livestream, a battle between Nascent Soul cultivators triggered geological disasters across a thousand-mile radius.

The group’s relief turned instantly into alarm.

Ji Yuanshu’s expression froze, twisting into a bitter smile.

Before their shocked eyes, divine light surrounded him—his body slowly disintegrating under the waves of the Financial Storm, his soul dragged deep into the Spiritual Realm.

Watching the once-proud prodigy of the Civil Engineering Department vanish just like that, everyone fell silent, fear gripping their hearts. The fragile calm they’d regained was gone.

A few hours later, Zhang Pianpian and his teachers messaged him one after another.

True Lord Magneto: I’m sending a batch of medicine to your dorm. Stay put. No matter what happens outside—don’t interfere.

Director Gao: Stop your work on the 670th floor for now. Stay home. Contact Magneto if anything happens.

Zhang Pianpian: The Nascent Souls have gathered at the arena. Things may escalate soon. But if they do, it means the higher authorities will step in. That’ll mark the end of it—for now.

Zhang Pianpian: Until then, anything can happen. Be careful, and stay indoors.

Reading these messages, Zhang Yu couldn’t help but tense up. He warned everyone in the dorm not to go outside.

Just as he was debating whether to let Li Xiao in for the night, he realized the man had already disappeared.

The next night, everyone gathered again to watch the Ten Universities Tournament livestream.

On screen, Wanfa University’s Dao Qiankun battled Heavenly Demon University’s Kuang Tianqing for the championship.

Zhang Yu remembered—they were ranked second and first on the Gold Core Seed leaderboard, their simulated scores unmatched.

As the two fought ferociously, Zhang Yu thought, “Their real strength must be far beyond what the rankings show.”

Then, Dao Qiankun roared, sending a golden phantom crashing into Kuang Tianqing.

“Level up mid-battle! Break through for me!”

With a low growl, Kuang Tianqing’s aura skyrocketed—soaring higher and higher until golden light shone through his entire body. From his abdomen emerged a round, gleaming Golden Core phantom.

He was about to break through—to form a Golden Core under battle pressure.

But then, he thrust a hand into his belly and crushed the core.

“Dao Qiankun, you think you can force me to break through?”

“Here! You break it instead!”

Kuang Tianqing hurled the shattered Golden Core at him. “Let’s see you explode!”

As the battle raged, both suddenly froze in midair.

Yu Xinghan tilted his head. “Time-stop technique?”

Zhang Yu frowned. “No. The video’s frozen.”

The others quickly checked—and to their shock, not just the livestream, but every Spiritual Realm service had stopped responding.

Shi Huaiyu stammered, “The Spiritual Realm Network… it’s down?”

“Maybe we ran out of dorm data quota?”

Zhang Yu shook his head. “I checked. We still have plenty left.”

Yu Xinghan frowned. “Then what’s going on…”

Zhang Yu tested his Sun-Moon Bracelet and Flying Sword—but none could connect to the Spiritual Realm anymore.

It was as if the entire realm had vanished.

A sinking feeling rose in his chest. “Is it just our dorm… or the whole building?”

“Or… has the entire Wanfa University’s Spiritual Realm gone offline?”

Then suddenly, the ground trembled beneath them—the entire dormitory shook violently.