No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

6 a.m.

The sky was barely light when Zhao Tianxing was already nearing the school gates.

Much earlier than usual, but today the results of the monthly exam were going to be posted.

Since last night, Zhao Tianxing hadn’t been able to focus on studying or cultivating. He figured he might as well head to school early and be the first to see the scores.

“This time the Dao Techniques section was pretty hard… I wonder if I even managed 60.”

“Sigh, the Dao Heart Exam was brutal too. I pressed the Happy Elixir twenty-three times. No idea what kind of score that’ll get me…”

Unlike Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen, who couldn’t be bothered to care about scores after the test, Zhao Tianxing was the kind of student who had to compare answers with everyone post-exam.

If someone had the same answers as him, he’d feel secretly thrilled. If not, he’d keep asking more people.

For the Dao Heart Exam, he’d ask how many times others pressed the button or injected the Happy Elixir.

If someone pressed more than him, he’d offer polite consolation on the outside, while celebrating inside.If someone pressed fewer times, he’d act indifferent, but his heart would sink in disappointment.

Now, with over 200 meters still to go, he could already see a crowd of students gathered at the school gates—clearly others had the same idea.

Some were hopeful, eager to see their improved rankings.

Some were anxious, fearing they might be demoted to lower classes.

And, of course, there were the score-obsessed maniacs, just desperate to know their numbers early.

Zhao Tianxing spotted Qian Shen practicing his cultivation at the very front. That guy always arrived first on results day.

Glancing at the still-closed school gate, Zhao Tianxing found a corner to sit down and review his notes.

A few minutes later, the gates of Songyang High creaked open.

The students at the entrance surged forward like sardines through a net, flooding the schoolyard.

By the time Zhao Tianxing reached the classroom, Qian Shen was already standing by the door.

He was staring at the results posted outside, visibly relieved.

Though his total score had dropped this time due to a lower practical exam grade, at least...

“Whew... At least Zhang Yu’s score matches his strength now. Songyang High’s monthly exam rating system hasn’t bugged out—yet.”

Elsewhere, Zhao Tianxing glanced around and thought, “Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen aren’t here yet?”

“Well, makes sense. With their strength, they already know how they did.”

That thought filled him with envy. When would he be able to carry himself like that—calm and unbothered by grades?

He quickly stepped up to scan the list for his own name.

First place: Zhang Yu, 653 points

Second place: Bai Zhenzhen, 652 points

Seeing their ranks, Zhao Tianxing sighed inwardly: “Aside from the Dao Techniques, they must have nearly maxed out every subject.”

Of course, he knew that didn’t mean they could relax. As time went on, the difficulty of the monthly exams and the evaluation standards would only rise. Students would need to keep improving just to maintain their scores.

Many juniors and seniors saw their scores decline simply because their progress couldn’t keep up with the rising bar.

But with Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen’s talent, Zhao Tianxing figured they’d be fine.

He couldn’t help but feel envious again: “If only I had their talent…”

Scrolling down the list, he finally found his own name—and smiled.

8th place: Zhao Tianxing, 594 points

Not long after, Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen arrived in the classroom.

Zhao Tianxing noticed they merely gave the rankings a passing glance, not even bothering to take it seriously.

Watching this, he felt they looked incredibly cool.

Meanwhile, he’d been an anxious wreck since last night, scrambling to check his score at dawn.

“Sigh. I’m so lame…”

But as time went on, Zhao Tianxing began to notice something was off. Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen looked distracted, preoccupied.

He couldn’t understand—what could possibly worry the top two students in their grade?

Just then, a dark blur flashed past the window.

A loud bang echoed from the first floor.

Another student had broken down.

…

After school that day.

Zhang Yu returned to the school’s Meditation Chamber, planning to use his free weekly Spirit Root rental.

But when Wei Xin scanned his student card, she frowned. “Huh? It’s not working.”

“Zhang Yu, hang on a second—I’ll go ask—”

Zhang Yu casually took back his card. “No need. Probably just my mistake.”

He didn’t need to ask. He already knew—it was the Student Council’s doing.

Later, on his way home, Zhang Yu read a message on his phone and couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

It was from Lei Jun, the Martial Arts teacher who supervised his practicals.

“Zhang Yu, the school thinks your body still needs more tempering. They’ve decided to hold you back a year and have you compete in next year’s Martial Arts Tournament.”

Zhang Yu let out a slow breath.

Mana Competitions, Athletics, Martial Arts—all the Student Council wanted to strip away every path he had to compete and rise.

Even the perks—like free Spirit Root rentals—were being cut, one by one.

At this rate, Zhang Yu would be back to working odd jobs after class just to scrape by.

“I’m still too weak…”

While waiting for the bus, he resumed practicing the Celestial Martial Heart-Forging Technique.

But the more he practiced, the more off it felt.

He could clearly sense that his current mindset—tired, restrained, uncertain—was completely at odds with the aggressive spirit required by the technique.

His heart felt like it was burning, yet there was no outlet.

Walking through the alley to his apartment, Zhang Yu thought, “Should I go to Li Xuelian? If she sees how far I’ve progressed in the Celestial Martial Heart-Forging Technique, would Xinghuo Zhenren consider taking me as a disciple?”

“Maybe if I brought Xinghuo Zhenren into the picture, it’d give me more leverage?”

But then he remembered—Xinghuo Zhenren was probably just another one looking to lock him into a servitude contract.

Zhang Yu sighed again.

Looking up at the sky, he felt like all of Songyang City was just one enormous banquet table—and he and Bai Zhenzhen were dishes laid out for wealthy patrons to sample.

“Should I run?”

“Flee to another city, juggle part-time jobs and cultivation, bide my time for ten years before re-emerging?”

“But what about Ah-Zhen? Would she want to run?”

“This damn ritual still forces me to take college entrance exams, so maybe it wouldn’t even let me leave…”

Opening the door to his apartment, Zhang Yu froze.

Sitting calmly on his chair was a tall girl in a White Dragon High School uniform.

Her long hair was tied in a ponytail, and her pale hands were slowly caressing the sheath of the long sword resting on her lap.

Zhang Yu spoke with difficulty. “Jie… Jie?”

The girl before him was Zhang Pianpian—his original body’s older sister.

What stunned him most was discovering she was a student at White Dragon High.

That detail had never existed in the original Zhang Yu’s memories.

Especially the massive “1” on her uniform’s chest, indicating she was ranked number one in her year.

Zhang Yu’s sister… was that capable? How? And why did the old Zhang Yu know nothing about it?

Zhang Pianpian looked at him coldly and said, “Go see Zhou Chechen. Sign the contract.”

Zhang Yu frowned. “You’re here to get me to sign?”

“I’m doing this for your own good,” she said flatly. “If you keep resisting, they’ll kill you.”

Zhang Yu thought about the Ritual and replied in kind: “Signing means death too.”

Their gazes clashed in the air. Seeing that Zhang Yu wouldn’t budge an inch, Zhang Pianpian seemed to sense the unflinching resolve in his eyes.

She nodded slightly. “Didn’t think you’d turn out like this.”

“I thought you were more suited for a normal, peaceful life.”

“If you won’t sign with Songyang High, then come with me. I’ll take you to White Dragon High.”

Zhang Yu paused, full of questions—but he asked the one that mattered most:

“Can I still aim for the Ten Great Academies?”

Zhang Pianpian smiled. “Of course.”

“You finally have some of that fire for the Immortal Path. If that’s the case, I’m willing to give you a shot at the Ten Great Academies.”

Though it was his first time seeing his sister in this life, Zhang Yu felt she was utterly different from what the original memories told him. A stranger.

Was this really his sister? Had money and scores completely changed her?

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on it. So he asked what he considered the second most important question.

“Can I bring someone with me?”

Seeing Zhang Pianpian tilt her head in curiosity, Zhang Yu added, “Can I take Bai Zhenzhen to White Dragon High too?”

She looked confused. “Why?”

“She’s my sworn brother. I want to help her.”

In his heart he thought, “If I leave Ah-Zhen here to face the Student Council alone, they’ll go even harder on her.”

Zhang Pianpian blinked. “Sworn brother? She’s our relative?”

Zhang Yu initially thought she was mocking him, but her sincere expression said otherwise.

He tried to explain. “I mean… we’re really, really close. When I was broke and hopeless, she gave me 500 and treated me to a meal.”

Still confused, Zhang Pianpian asked, “Can’t you just transfer her back 500 now?”

Zhang Yu: “No.”

Zhang Pianpian: “Then 5,000?”

Zhang Yu: “It’s not about the money.”

The more they talked, the stranger it felt. This Zhang Pianpian was nothing like the one from memory.

Seeing his determination, she paused, then said, “White Dragon High has limited openings. I can only take one person.”

Zhang Yu’s heart sank.

But she continued, “Unless… you pass a test.”

“Then I can get both of you in.”

Zhang Yu perked up. “What test?”

“Divine Assistant. Or rather, Divine Job Outsourcing,” Zhang Pianpian said coolly. “If you can obtain a post under one of the Eight Divine Ministries, then even if you stay at Songyang High, no one will dare mess with you—at least until I’m in college.”

“I can sponsor your application for the test.”

“But keep this in mind. If you come to White Dragon High with me, I can guarantee your safety until graduation.”

“If you rely only on a Divine Assistant title, then once I enter college, they won’t be as restrained.”

“And there’s only half a year left until my graduation.”

“You sure you want to take that risk?”