No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

“Why the hell is the Artifact Forging Department downsizing?!”

Zhang Yu hadn’t expected to run into a situation in college that reminded him of his high school martial arts teacher, Lei Jun. Back then, Lei Jun had faced cutbacks in the Foundation License exam quota. Now, Zhang Yu was up against a similar issue—only this time, it was the graduate program enrollment for artifact forging that was being slashed.

After digging around the Spiritual Realm Network for a while, Zhang Yu couldn’t find a clear reason for the change.

It wasn’t until after class that day, while he was taking some medicine back at the dorm, that Zhang Pianpian offered an explanation.

“They say a number of Nascent Soul artifact forgers led a protest,” Zhang Pianpian said, flicking her fingers through her Talisman Book as a stream of data lit up in her ocular implants. “Their claim was that the artifact forging departments at various universities don’t have the resources to match the number of students they’re accepting.”

She continued, her voice calm. “They also said the quality of incoming students isn’t high enough. So they want to raise the bar even further…”

Zhang Yu cursed silently. “Damn it. So it’s like you get on the bus, and then they go and weld the doors shut behind you?”

Zhang Pianpian shook her head. “That’s just the public excuse.”

“The real reason…”

She drew a sigil on the Talisman Book that Zhang Yu couldn’t decipher. In the next moment, a flood of information from the depths of the Spiritual Realm flashed through her eyes.

“The real reason,” she said with a faint smile, “is that the top ten elite universities have joined forces. They want to limit the number of artifact forging students across all schools to cement their dominance.”

“Zhang Yu, if you’re still aiming for a grad program in artifact forging, it’s going to be even tougher now.”

She sighed. “I looked up the enrollment stats from the last few years. The standards have been climbing every single year.”

“And if you want to switch departments, the requirements are even stricter. You’ll need to be ranked in the top 50 of your entire department.”

“If you’re coming from the Civil Engineering Department, you need to be top 20.”

Zhang Yu’s eyes widened. “Top 20 in the entire department? That’s insane!”

“I’d have to be top 20 across the whole Civil Engineering Department just to switch to artifact forging? Who even came up with these rules?”

“That’s just the baseline to register for the department transfer exam,” Zhang Pianpian replied coolly.

“And under the new criteria, you’ll also need to stack up bonus points to compete with other applicants.”

“Stuff like mastering artifact forging, alchemy, pharmacology, array inscription… any Immortal Dao techniques will earn you bonus points and priority admission.”

Zhang Yu’s frown deepened. Every one of those bonus-point skills sounded like a money sink. This wasn’t screening for talent—this was screening for rich students.

Zhang Pianpian continued, “If you still want to walk the artifact forging path, you’ll need to work even harder.”

“Because by the time it’s your turn to apply, the requirements will likely be even tougher.”

She shook her head. “It’s not just artifact forging. All three flagship departments at Wanfa Sect University are downsizing.”

“The Finance Department’s requirements have already skyrocketed.”

“After all, the table’s only so big. Every extra person means less for everyone else.”

“As time goes on, it’s only going to get harder to climb the ladder here in Kunxu.”

“For example, getting into one of the Ten Major Sects… a few years from now, they might stop taking new recruits altogether.”

Up to that point, Zhang Yu had stayed calm despite all the talk about shrinking graduate slots. He figured he just needed to push himself harder.

But the moment Zhang Pianpian said that last sentence, his expression snapped.

“Wait, what? Senior Sister—what did you just say?”

“The Ten Major Sects might stop recruiting altogether?!”

In that instant, amid the relentless grind of daily studying and cultivation, Zhang Yu felt a chill—an old, forgotten ritual power stirring deep inside him.

He had thought getting into one of the top universities meant he could finally relax a bit. But now…

He remembered exactly how his wish-fulfillment ritual had been structured: get into a university, join a sect, and use sect stipends to buy ancient relics.

“If the Ten Major Sects stop accepting new disciples… I won’t be able to fulfill the wish. And once I graduate… will the ritual backlash kill me?”

“Fu Ji! Did you hear that?! Can’t you shut this damn ritual off?!”

Fu Ji gave an awkward chuckle. “Whew, didn’t realize things had gotten this cutthroat.”

As Zhang Yu’s thoughts spun into chaos, Zhang Pianpian glanced at his changing expression and said plainly, “Once you’re up here, you realize things aren’t what we imagined. Ever since the college entrance and university systems were built, each year the Ten Major Sects recruit some prodigies from the top-tier schools.”

“And under this system, the sect populations have grown year after year. Top-level talent keeps pouring in.”

“Each of them is a genius among geniuses—brilliant and peerless.”

“So many people have joined the sects and climbed toward the peak of the Immortal Path… don’t you think it’s getting crowded up there?”

“For the Ten Major Sects, talent may already be in oversupply.”

“As the bus gets more crowded, naturally they’ll raise the bar to get on.”

She sighed. “From what I’ve seen in recent data, the sects might already have no mortals left inside. Their birthrate has likely dropped to zero. No one who goes up there gets to stay permanently—after a set time, they all have to come back down…”

“At this rate, we’re approaching the limit.”

“When that day comes, the Ten Major Sects might stop recruiting entirely. The upper levels of the sect realms might seal off completely.”

“Above the sects and below the sects will become two entirely separate worlds.”

Zhang Yu cursed inwardly. “Why’d I have to be born now, of all times?”

“If I’d just been born twenty or forty years earlier, getting into college and joining a sect would’ve been so much easier!”

“And now, not only is it harder, but they might cut it off completely?”

Seeing Zhang Yu’s face clouded with gloom, Zhang Pianpian asked, “Do you really want to join one of the Ten Major Sects that badly?”

Zhang Yu nodded. “Do you think I still have a shot?”

She pulled up the numbers. “Last year, the sects took in… five artifact forging grad students.”

Zhang Yu’s eyes lit up. “Wanfa Sect took them?”

She shook her head. “All Ten Major Sects combined recruited five. Four were at the Nascent Soul level, one at Gold Core.”

“If you want to join them, you’ll likely need to reach the PhD level.”

Zhang Yu’s heart sank.

Then he remembered how the Civil Engineering Department was expanding and asked hopefully, “What about civil engineering? Do they take a lot?”

“Zero,” she said flatly. “Last year, not a single civil engineering student got into the Ten Major Sects.”

“It’s pretty much accepted now that they’ve stopped recruiting from that department.”

“Honestly, if you want a shot at the Ten Major Sects, artifact forging still gives you the best odds. Other departments are either worse or about the same.”

Zhang Yu asked, “So how many years do you think we have left before they stop recruiting completely? Five? Ten? Twenty?”

Zhang Pianpian shook her head. “Hard to say. For Immortals, ten or thirty years isn’t much different.”

Zhang Yu asked, “Have you never thought about joining the Ten Major Sects?”

Zhang Pianpian gave a faint smile. “The Eight Divine Ministries are my true destination.”

Then, with a sigh, she added, “After starting college, I’ve come to realize… we really were born too late.”

Zhang Yu clenched his fists. “This won’t work. I can’t just sit back and wait. It’s way too risky.”

Seeing his furrowed brow, Zhang Pianpian said, “If you really want to seize the last window of opportunity, you’ll have to finish your credits early and apply for graduation.”

“But that means… you’ll need to complete your cultivation in a shorter time, then fight for a graduate spot against people who’ve trained for ten years, and then finish grad school even faster to qualify for a PhD…”

Even she shook her head. “Just focus on what’s in front of you first.”

“Graduate early, huh?” Zhang Yu mused.

She added, “Remember—don’t rush.”

“Haste makes waste. Don’t lose your footing and give yourself away.”

Zhang Yu nodded slightly, working to calm himself.

Ever since entering college, he’d been thriving thanks to his deep foundation—his cultivation, strength, grades, and rankings were all steadily rising.

Ever since he started working on the construction site, even his earnings in spirit coins had begun trending upward.

He’d thought he could just follow the standard path: rise steadily through the ranks, pass his exams, and join the Ten Major Sects.

But the situation in Kunxu was far more brutal than he’d imagined.

He couldn’t control sect policy. All he could do now was work even harder—fight harder—to boost his odds, even if only slightly.

And if he wanted to do that without exposing his freakish talent, he had to make more money.

The more he earned, the faster he could progress. That, in turn, gave him a plausible cover story for his rapid rise.

“Good thing I’ve got the construction gig now—I won’t be bleeding money anymore.”

His plan solidified: “I’ll spend spirit coins to boost my strength, justify it with improved site performance, earn even more, then reinvest it all into getting stronger…”

A moment later, countless product listings and services flickered across his ocular implants.

Zhang Yu had already started browsing for his next round of purchases.