No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

Early the next morning.

Since breaking through the Zhou Tian Qi-Gathering Technique to Level 10 last night and starting practice with the Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique, Zhang Yu had found himself…

In perfect sync with the new technique.

The constant pressure of Ritual-driven learning, cultivation, and work had become his new normal. And once he began cultivating the Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique, he realized just how naturally it resonated with him—his progress was faster and fiercer than he had anticipated.

Especially as the method rapidly leveled up, Zhang Yu felt more and more able to endure the dullness, tedium, and solitude of cultivating Heart Techniques.

Except for invoking the Ritual’s power to keep himself grinding, he barely took any breaks, charging down the path of cultivation with tireless ferocity.

By the time dawn broke, Zhang Yu slowly opened his eyes. His Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique had already reached Level 7 (15/21).

To push a Heart Technique this far in one night—it even scared him a little to realize what he was capable of.

What’s more, his Dao Heart had also seen solid progress. The Feathered Tome now displayed new data: Dao Heart Level 2 (1%).

“Could it be that after cultivating the Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique, I’ve developed a clearer grasp of my Dao Heart—and that’s why I can now perceive its actual progress?”Zhang Yu shook his head. He still understood far too little about the Feathered Tome.

After brushing his teeth and washing up, he kept silently practicing the Heart Technique on his way to school.

At the rate he was tearing through the Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique, he figured he could push it to Level 10 before the day was out.

…

Songyang High School.

Between classes.

Zhang Yu was deep into his cultivation when the sound of approaching footsteps caused his brow to furrow slightly.

A tall, bald-headed boy walked up to him and said, “Hey Zhang Yu, sorry to bother you.”

“Can I borrow yesterday’s math test?”

Zhang Yu didn’t respond immediately. After a short pause, the boy smiled politely, unfazed. “Ah, sorry. Looks like I interrupted you.”

“Go ahead and keep cultivating—I’ll come back later.”

But as he turned around, a trace of gloom flickered in his eyes.

Zhang Yu ignoring him like that made him feel disrespected.

He thought to himself bitterly, “Tch, no wonder he’s ranked third in the grade—what a snob. Guys like me, scraping by in the 530 range, must not even register as people to him.”

Meanwhile, listening to the footsteps fade, Zhang Yu let out a mental sigh of relief.

“That Liang Qin guy… isn’t he getting a bit too chummy?”

The boy who just asked for the math test was Liang Qin.

Ever since Zhang Yu’s stunning rise in the monthly exam rankings, classmates had been trying to get close, hoping to uncover the secret behind his sudden improvement.

Most gave up after a try or two—especially since Zhang Yu spent nearly every break cultivating and didn’t talk to anyone. Once the buzz around the exam started dying down, the crowd of curious classmates faded with it.

Only Liang Qin kept showing up.

Not just between classes.

During Martial Arts class, Liang Qin would hand him water.

After PE, he’d show up with a towel to wipe off his sweat.

Even in the cafeteria, he’d try to save him a seat.

He spoke with constant praise and compliments.

Buzzing around Zhang Yu like a flattering little bee.

At first, Zhang Yu thought the guy wasn’t half bad.

But after a few days, it just became annoying.

Especially since Liang Qin’s constant interruptions were eating into his precious cultivation time.

And every compliment came laced with probing questions about how Zhang Yu had boosted his scores, which made it all feel hollow.

So over the past couple days, Zhang Yu had started ignoring him, hoping he’d take the hint.

Though it clearly stirred some resentment, Zhang Yu didn’t have many options.

…

As the school day neared its end…

During self-study, Zhang Yu’s body gave a slight tremble.

A rush of sweet dew seemed to well up from the depths of his Sea of Consciousness, flooding his limbs and filling him with bliss.

In his mind’s eye, the image within his Intent-Focusing Diagram let out a low bellow—the old ox he’d drawn sprang vividly to life, raising its horns to the sky and roaring as though it were truly alive.

Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique: Level 10

The moment the Heart Technique hit Level 10, Zhang Yu was overwhelmed with a sense of satisfaction and joy.

Just the thought of his strength steadily rising, of more and more techniques reaching Level 10, filled him with anticipation—and that anticipation blossomed into pure joy.

“So this is the effect of the Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique at Level 10?”

“As long as you have hope for the future in your heart… even bitter cultivation, even endless hardship, can feel fulfilling. Can even bring happiness.”

The more he practiced, the more Zhang Yu felt this technique was something special. A Heart Technique that made suffering feel joyful—didn’t that reduce the pain of cultivation? Didn’t that boost one’s efficiency?

Then why did it get so many bad reviews?

Unless… maybe most people who trained it to Level 10 couldn’t feel joy anymore. Maybe they’d already lost all hope for the future?

Thinking about the grim state of Kunxu’s first floor, Zhang Yu could only shake his head.

“The Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique is a great technique.”

“But no matter how great a technique is, it’s still just a technique. What your future holds—that’s up to the person.”

Just as he was pondering this…

“Yuzi?”

A girl’s voice called out.

Bai Zhenzhen glanced over Zhang Yu’s satisfied, blissful expression, scanning him up and down. Then she gave him a skeptical look.

“Yuzi… you didn’t, like, leak in the classroom, did you?”

Zhang Yu’s eyes snapped open. Seeing Bai Zhenzhen’s look of disgust, he groaned, “Ugh… here I was, marveling at the beauty of cultivation, contemplating the sorrows of life—and then you, with your crude mouth, completely killed the mood.”

But Bai Zhenzhen couldn’t care less about his poetic musings. She grabbed him by the wrist and dragged him out of the classroom.

“Quit yapping about beauty and sorrow—we’ve got Law Tournament cram class after school, remember? We already paid 3000 bucks for it!”

After their surge into the year’s top ten in Mana scores last month, both Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen were selected for the first-year Law Tournament team.

Problem was, the stuff tested in the first-year tournament went way beyond anything they’d learned in class. It was like a whole new level of coursework.

So Ms. Yan, their Mana class teacher, had organized extra sessions to prep them.

…

In the classroom.

Aside from Ms. Yan—hair tied up, wearing thick-rimmed glasses—there were only two students present: Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen.

Ms. Yan explained, “The others all have private tutors and their own study schedules, so they won’t be joining the cram sessions.”

Zhang Yu thought to himself, “So… we’re the only broke kids in the top ten.”

Bai Zhenzhen clenched her fists. “So this is the kind of class that tanks your school reputation the moment you show up.”

A flame of resolve lit up in Ms. Yan’s eyes. Her thoughts seethed:

“These spoiled rich kids… ditching my class for private tutors?”

“Those private tutors just sweet-talk and scam people out of money. How could they match up to my thirty years of experience in a top-tier high school?”

“Only two out of ten showed up—this is a huge blow to my status.”

“And on top of that, they didn’t even pay for the sessions?”

If this were Class 2 or Class 3, she’d be calling all their parents to school, demanding they show some respect to a Mana teacher.

But the parents of these eight “model class” kids…

Well, they were all too busy. As a teacher, she had to show understanding.

She looked at Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen.

“Alright, you two. You’d better do me proud. Crush those eight spoiled brats so hard they come crawling back for my cram class.”

Despite the fire inside, she kept a calm expression and began:

“What’s tested in the Law Tournament is completely different from your usual coursework. Total Mana is just the foundation—what matters is how well you control it.”

She projected a diagram of a body’s mana circulation and launched into her lecture.

“Right now, the mana inside you is in its most basic form.”

“By controlling its flow and paths, you can alter its shape.”

“One direction is for martial use—sword aura, palm force…”

“More advanced transformations can trigger heat, cold, electricity…”

As she spoke, she raised one finger.

A sharp pulse flared at the tip, slicing clean through a sheet of paper in front of her.

Then, a moment later, the tip turned faintly red, a tiny flame flickering to life.

“This is the most basic form of mana transformation.”

“Of course, these beginner-level changes rely on fundamentals—your raw control. The power is minimal.”

“For true combat use, what you need is special mana formed by advanced techniques…”

As she spoke, Zhang Yu recalled how He Dayou had used a cold, chilling palm force during their mock battle in the monthly exam.

That had to be a kind of specialized mana produced by a technique.

On the screen, Ms. Yan now projected an animated mana flow diagram.

“This is the simplest path for sword aura conversion. It lets you turn mana into a thread of sharp energy.”

“Follow what I taught—give it a try.”

Bai Zhenzhen stared at the animation. After a while, her head started spinning.

“This flow path is too complex!”

She tried on her own and quickly felt frustrated.

Her mana spun endlessly through her left arm but refused to transform into anything sharp.

This was the simplest path?

This was the difficulty level of the competition?

It felt like learning basic addition and then being asked to solve a system of linear equations.

Just then, Zhang Yu called out beside her.

“Ah-Zhen! Come look at this!”

Bai Zhenzhen turned her head—only to see Zhang Yu casually tapping his notebook, slicing out a perfect equation like it was nothing.

Yuzi, this unfamiliar side of you… it disgusts me.