No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

On the platform—

As the referee’s countdown hit “3! 2! 1!”, Hu Yuntao shot forward with a whoosh, twin claws slicing through the air like blades, kicking up a foul wind laced with killing intent as he slashed toward Bai Zhenzhen.

The woman before him was smaller, weaker, and slower. Hu Yuntao was confident he could tear through her arms and rip out her throat in the next instant, ending the match then and there.

“This hit’s gonna blow a 600,000 medical bill right through you.”

But in the very next heartbeat, a surge of intense danger welled up from deep within him. Hu Yuntao instinctively stopped in his tracks and sprang backward.

Looking again at Bai Zhenzhen, he saw the faintest wisps of spiritual energy gathering toward her, condensing at her fingertips—forming a subtle glint that looked suspiciously like sword-light.

Hu Yuntao narrowed his eyes. “A combat-type Spirit Root?”

…

In the stands—

Qian Shen squinted at Bai Zhenzhen’s platform, curious. “What kind of Spirit Root is that? I don’t think I’ve seen it before. But judging by the spiritual activity, it’s gotta be a Heavenly Spiritual Root, right?”Zhao Tianxing chimed in from beside him, “No wonder Ah-Zhen didn’t even have money for lunch. She probably blew it all renting a combat-type Spirit Root. She must really want to win.”

Factoring in travel costs and the hours needed for the whole competition, Zhao Tianxing figured that kind of Spirit Root rental would cost at least tens of thousands. He couldn’t help but click his tongue—joining a Martial Arts tournament really did burn money.

…

On the platform—

Bai Zhenzhen felt the flood of spiritual energy coursing through her body and thought to herself, “They’re all probably assuming I rented this combat-type Spirit Root just to compete today.”

But that wasn’t the case.

She’d rather spend money on pills or techniques than rent a Spirit Root.

Why? Because she already had one of her own.

To keep her Spirit Root hidden, Bai Zhenzhen had been suppressing it since she was a child. And that suppression… had lasted ten years.

“Ah-Zhen, you must hold it in. Don’t absorb spiritual energy. No one can find out you have a Spirit Root.”

Every morning, that was the first thing she heard upon waking.

“Ah-Zhen, hold on! Don’t let the spiritual energy stir. You can’t let anyone discover your Spirit Root.”

Night after night, she’d be jolted awake and forced to suppress the root again, force it into stillness.

“Ah-Zhen, I know it’s hard. But only if you can hide it—only then can we go back to Songyang.”

It was like being unable to breathe the air around you, or drink the water you found. Like needing the bathroom, but never being allowed to go.

Don’t let them find out you have a Spirit Root.

Don’t let them find out.

Don’t let them find out!

Don’t!

So Bai Zhenzhen kept suppressing and suppressing… until one day, it felt like the Spirit Root had vanished.

That day was the happiest moment in her memory. She’d been hiding it for nine years. Nine years of pressure, shame, fear. And finally—it was gone.

But it wasn’t truly gone. Just hidden.

And not just hidden—the Spirit Root had begun to hide her in return.

With each round of “holding it in,” the Spirit Root concealed her further. Until eventually, she became like a ghost—no one could see her. No one could sense her. Or rather, everyone else began to feel like ghosts to her—unreachable, unresponsive, as if she no longer existed in their world.

That night… it felt like she was the only one left on earth.

Until she found a way to be seen again.

…

As more and more spiritual energy surged toward Bai Zhenzhen, Hu Yuntao decided he’d waited long enough. With a roar, he charged again.

But in the next second, Bai Zhenzhen vanished from his sight.

Hu Yuntao’s eyes widened. He scanned the entire platform.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing!

“Stealth-type combat Spirit Root?”

He leapt to the edge of the stage, scanning every corner—but saw no trace of Bai Zhenzhen.

Could it be—

He suddenly looked upward—but still nothing.

And then—

An overwhelming sense of danger surged through him.

Bai Zhenzhen reappeared right in front of him, her fingertip already aimed straight at his Dantian.

Though the attack came fast and dangerously close, Hu Yuntao’s reflexes were lightning sharp. Almost instantly, he swung a claw at her outstretched finger like a thunderbolt.

“Hmph! Weak strength, slow speed—surprise doesn’t win fights. What do you have that could beat me?”

But in the next moment, Bai Zhenzhen’s finger shifted—effortlessly dodging his strike as if she’d anticipated it all along.

She pulled back.

Hu Yuntao lunged to chase her—but his foot caught.

Pain flared.

She’d tripped him.

It was so perfectly timed, it looked like he’d tripped himself.

With a muffled thud, Hu Yuntao found himself lying outside the ring, disbelief flooding his heart.

“ROAR!”

“I’m not done! I didn’t even go all out!”

As he flailed, the referee grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him away.

Bai Zhenzhen calmly flicked her fingers and muttered, “Idiot. I didn’t go all out either.”

Victory: Bai Zhenzhen.