No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

Bai Zhenzhen eyed Zhang Yu suspiciously. “Don’t tell me you invested in something? Or worse, got scammed?”

Zhang Yu, still piecing together memories, looked uncertain. “I... don’t think so?”

But Bai Zhenzhen’s expression quickly turned serious. The more she thought about it, the more something seemed off about the seventy thousand he’d burned through. “Let me see your phone.”

Zhang Yu understood she was just concerned. After all, the top five causes of death in Songyang City were investment losses, scams, gambling, sudden death, and cultivation deviation—with the last one coming in fifth.

He was having doubts about the original Zhang Yu too. He pulled out his phone. “I was going to look over the transactions anyway. Let’s go through them together.”

Their eyes scanned the screen, taking in the spending records of the body’s previous owner.

As Zhang Yu read, bits and pieces of related memories flooded back.

Danding Pharmacy – 280.00

Danding Pharmacy – 250.00

Time Waits for None Meditation Room – 120.00“Those were for pills from the pharmacy,” Zhang Yu explained. “And then I rented a meditation room for breathing exercises…”

In addition to standard courses like Chinese, math, physics, and history, Songyang High offered classes in Immortal Cultivation.

“Immortal Cultivation” referred to the journey of a mortal ascending to immortality. It was the core curriculum throughout high school, carrying the most weight in exams and serving as the gateway to top universities.

Breathing Techniques were the foundation of cultivation, enabling a practitioner to draw in ambient Vital Energy and accumulate internal Mana.

Only with sufficient Mana could a cultivator unlock stronger combat power and ascend to higher Realms. Mana was the engine behind every Immortal Technique.

For example, progressing from the Qi Refining Realm to the Foundation Establishment Realm required at least 60 points of Mana, with the maximum Mana capacity during Qi Refining capped at 100.

Thanks to the standardized system built by the Ten Great Sects, everything—from cultivation steps to Mana output—had been quantified. Even school-based Mana tests now measured down to the decimal.

Bai Zhenzhen nodded slightly and scrolled further.

Shuixiu Dining Services Ltd. – 532.00

“That was for a supplement meal at the cafeteria,” Zhang Yu said. “A bit pricey.”

In Immortal Cultivation, physical fortitude was just as important. Consuming foods rich in Vital Energy and Immortal Elements was a daily part of a cultivator’s regimen—referred to as Nutritional Cultivation.

Longxiang Educational Services Ltd. – 1500.00

Longxiang Educational Services Ltd. – 3000.00

Zhang Yu thought for a moment. “Oh… that was tutoring fees, plus spirit-root rental.”

Spirit Roots were a rare talent, gifted to only a few. They massively boosted both training speed and combat ability.

Back when Spirit Roots were still the ultimate gatekeeper in cultivation, even middle-school Zhang Yu and his mom had heard the legends. So much so that the original Zhang Yu used “renting a Spirit Root” as an excuse to ask his mother for money while tutoring and repaying debts.

Nowadays, with cultivation tech advancing rapidly, even ordinary folks like Zhang Yu—born without a Spirit Root—could pay to rent one and boost their efficiency.

They kept scrolling. Beyond Zhang Yu’s brief explanations, nearly all the remaining expenses were also cultivation-related.

After combing through the past few months of transactions, Bai Zhenzhen looked at him with undisguised pity. “You seriously blew all that cash on cultivation?”

“And still only made it to tenth place after racking up seventy grand in debt?”

“It’s only been a little over three months since school started! What’s your plan now?”

Zhang Yu, freshly transmigrated and only one day into this new world, could only shrug. “Survive for now. Figure it out as I go.”

As class time approached, they walked toward the academic building while chatting.

“How does someone with seventy grand in debt look more relaxed than someone like me, who only owes twenty?” Bai Zhenzhen asked, frowning.

She looked at Zhang Yu’s calm face and warned, “You know you can’t afford to keep spending like that on school, right?”

“Do you even realize what happens when you can’t pay to learn? Do you know how dangerous that is?”

Zhang Yu replied, “What happens?”

Bai Zhenzhen said, “You’ve got three weeks until the monthly exam. That’s three weeks with no Spirit Root rental, no pills, no tutoring—not even daily supplements. Meanwhile, everyone else is leveling up 24/7. If your ranking drops by a few dozen spots, you’ll get booted from the Demonstration Class!”

Her words triggered more memories in Zhang Yu’s mind.

The entire freshman year was divided into ten classes, ranked from Class One to Class Ten, based on monthly exam scores.

Zhang Yu’s high ranking had placed him in Class One—the Demonstration Class, which received the best resources.

And while the exams included general subjects, what really mattered was cultivation ability.

General education only contributed 50 points to the total score. The other 650 came from Immortal Studies.

And since every student had only started cultivating after the school year began, the differences in cultivation levels were still narrow.

So even though Zhang Yu was ranked tenth now, a few weeks without maintaining that momentum could see him plummet in the standings.

Bai Zhenzhen continued, “If you keep falling, you’ll get pushed down from Class One to Class Ten, one level at a time.”

Her expression grew grim. “No money means no grades. No grades mean you’ll be labeled as flammable trash by the teachers, a joke to the top students, and a punching bag for the lower-class randos trying to feel better about themselves.”

She cradled her head in both hands. “With that kind of pressure, forget cultivation resources. You won’t even be able to stabilize your Dao Heart. Your scores will tank, and eventually you’ll fall below the cutoff. That’s when Songyang High kicks you to the curb—broken, broke, and buried in debt.”

As if watching a tragic future unfold in her mind, Bai Zhenzhen tilted her head skyward and moaned, “Do you really want to end up at the bottom of the school’s social ladder, mocked and despised by everyone? A dropout loser with no future?”

Zhang Yu twitched his mouth. “So, what do you suggest?”

Bai Zhenzhen fell silent for a moment, then turned to him. “Brother, I’ll be honest… If seventy grand only got you to tenth place, maybe you’re just not cut out for Immortal Cultivation.”

“I don’t know how you got into Songyang, but if you want my advice… drop out and get a job. Otherwise, you’re just digging yourself deeper.”

Zhang Yu didn’t reply. But inside, he sighed.

“So the only good thing about this broken world is that I can cultivate… and now you’re telling me I have no talent for cultivation?”

Back in the classroom, not long after they returned, Zhang Yu’s phone buzzed. It was a transfer from Bai Zhenzhen—500 yuan. Along with a message:

Bai Zhenzhen: Use it to pay the utility bill.

Zhang Yu blinked, then sniffed at his clothes. It hit him—she must’ve noticed the smell from not showering for days.

He’d gotten used to it, but to others, it probably reeked.

Seeing her scrape together money for him despite her own situation made Zhang Yu sigh. He typed out a long message, deleted it, and finally sent back one word:

Thanks.

Afterward, he glanced at his palm—and saw the strange symbol there had turned half-black.

Ever since leaving the dorm and walking to class, Zhang Yu had noticed that this symbol was something only he could see.

Based on the rate it was darkening, it would likely be filled in completely by tonight.

And once it was filled… who knew what would happen?