No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

Just as Su Yanyang was mulling over the Military License competition, a message flashed across his EyeNet interface.

”Su Yanyang! When are you paying back the money?”

”You think you can stiff a Soul Cultivator you hired? Dream on!”

At the same time, the debt collection message wasn’t just lighting up in Su Yanyang’s own EyeNet—it was also popping up in the feeds of those around him, instantly changing the way the Civil Engineering students nearby looked at him.

Su Yanyang calmly swallowed another mouthful of rice, thinking to himself, ”Debt Collection Sigil, huh?”

Ma Xuan beside him couldn’t hold back. ”Senior, maybe it’s better if you just pay them back?”

”If people keep tagging you with Debt Collection Sigils, your reputation’s going to tank. That’s bound to hurt your academic career, isn’t it?”

Su Yanyang replied coolly, ”I hired those Soul Cultivators to do a job. If they didn’t complete it, why should I pay?”

”Let them sue me if they want. If they manage to squeeze money out of me in the end, I’ll consider that their ability.”

In Su Yanyang’s mind, avoiding loss of spirit coins and preserving his cultivation potential on the Immortal Path were essential disciplines in and of themselves.…

Meanwhile, off in the distance, Xiao Yunji stabbed a needle into her neck. As the mana solution slowly infused, the stabbing pain in her meridians began to fade.

Checking the improved synchronization rate with her Law Husk, she finally let out a breath of relief.

Right now, she wasn’t the triple-armed, six-bladed terror of the competition stage. Her Law Husk shimmered with a metallic luster, making her look like just another normal university student.

Xiao Yunji thought to herself, ”Transformative Law Husks might pack a punch, but their sync rate drops way too easily.”

”Once I pass the Military License exam, I’m definitely swapping out this setup.”

Her gaze swept over Su Yanyang and another Civil Engineering student, thinking, ”Su Yanyang and that War Faction guy, Ping Han—those two will probably be my toughest opponents in the next round of exams.”

”Especially Ping Han. He was Mo Shangjin’s teammate in the competition team. He’s a year older than Mo Shangjin, already a Grade 9 senior, and has completed the Seven Absolutes.”

”If it weren’t for his repeated losses speculating in coin markets, he probably would’ve earned his Military License already.”

As for Zhang Yu? Xiao Yunji didn’t even spare a thought for the younger student she’d chased all over the competition arena.

Just as her gaze brushed past Ping Han, he walked up to Zhang Yu.

Zhang Yu turned, examining the senior clad in a Fierce Tiger Model Law Husk, then looked at the Civil Engineering Department Rank #4 badge hovering over the guy’s head.

”Rank 4 in Civil Engineering… and he’s using a Fierce Tiger Model?”

Zhang Yu wasn’t exactly a Law Husk expert, but he’d heard plenty of commentary from Yu Xinghan, Li Xiao, and Gongshu Jin.

He knew Fierce Tiger was a bottom-tier brand—popular among vocational students, a lifesaver for first-years. Dirt cheap and built like a tank.

Yu Xinghan had once remarked: ”If you’re still using Fierce Tiger at Wanfa University, you’ve already lost the college game.”

But Zhang Yu recognized Ping Han. He’d seen him in action during competitions.

”Didn’t he use a different Law Husk on the field?”

”Must be that he wears Fierce Tiger on the daily and switches to better gear for official matches.”

As Zhang Yu pondered this, Ping Han grinned and said, ”Zhang Yu, right? Bet you’re wondering why I’m using a Fierce Tiger Model?”

”And probably guessing I’ve got a higher-end Law Husk stashed somewhere, huh?”

He shook his head. ”Truth is, this is my only one. During competitions, my teammates lend me their backups.”

”I used to have a high-end Tech Artisan Law Husk—but I sold it all.”

A glint of fanaticism flashed in his eyes. ”Because I realized something: instead of pouring money into gear, it’s better to invest in coins.”

”I’ve got some inside info on Nectar Coins from Pleasure and Harmony University. You in?”

Zhang Yu shook his head vigorously. ”I don’t speculate.”

”You don’t speculate?” Ping Han looked stricken. ”You’re a college student—how do you expect to cultivate without speculating?”

”You planning to work part-time all the way to ascension?”

Zhang Yu blinked. That was exactly what he’d planned.

Ping Han sighed. ”You don’t get it. We bust our asses on construction sites all year and barely scrape together anything. Enough to extend our lifespan, sure—but that’s just so we can keep working. You’ll never break through like that.”

”I’ve studied the profiles of every cultivator who’s reached Gold Core or Nascent Soul in the past 50 years.”

”Not a single one of them did it through manual labor.”

”Every last one—every single one—either started rich or hit a jackpot fast, and then broke through.”

He looked Zhang Yu dead in the eye. ”Cultivation potential doesn’t build up slowly. It spikes.”

”In this era, working part-time will never get you to Gold Core.”

”You might as well speculate—win and you’re off to Gold Core, Nascent Soul. Lose, and at least you know not to waste your life grinding aimlessly.”

”Better to rise or fall in five years than spend a century slogging, only to realize you never had a shot.”

Fu Ji sighed, ”Another one driven mad by the Immortal Path. Must’ve lost a fortune speculating and donated all his cultivation potential to a Nascent Soul cultivator.”

Zhang Yu said helplessly, ”I’ll stick to working part-time, thanks.”

”Ugh,” Ping Han groaned. ”You don’t understand. Speculating has a chance to succeed. Labor… has none.”

”Hopeless. Just hopeless.”

”Since you won’t chase your fortune, mind lending me some spirit coins?”

Zhang Yu refused again, and Ping Han trudged away, sighing.

Just then, a message lit up in Zhang Yu’s EyeNet.

Mo Shangjin: Good call not lending him money.

Zhang Yu looked up to see Mo Shangjin had arrived, casually chatting with a crowd of students. When he caught Zhang Yu’s gaze, he smiled and nodded in greeting.

Mo Shangjin: He made 50 spirit coins the first time he speculated.

Mo Shangjin: Been addicted ever since.

Mo Shangjin: Lost a lot. Borrowed 10 coins from Director Gao.

Mo Shangjin: Gao said he had no talent for it and refused.

Mo Shangjin: The coin he wanted skyrocketed. If he’d bought in, he could’ve made 400 coins.

Mo Shangjin: That regret became his inner demon. No one can stop him now.

Mo Shangjin: If he ever asks again, don’t lend him anything.

Zhang Yu mused, ”So that’s what happened… Honestly, if I missed out on 400 coins, I might not recover for a long time either.”

Fu Ji chimed in, ”That’s cultivation for you. Inner demons come in all forms. Only those with a perfectly tempered Dao Heart—pure, unshakable—can keep climbing.”

…

Just then, another Civil Engineering senior came over to offer Zhang Yu more food. Zhang Yu snapped back to the moment and resumed scarfing down his meal, feeling the robust energy surge into his body with every bite.

Not far off, Feng Tingting watched the endless stream of rice bowls and murmured to herself, ”A meal density of 12.75… premium refining material. Wonder if he’d be up for sale?”

She eyed the “12.75” marker she’d tagged on Zhang Yu’s head. He didn’t look like he had money. Might be worth asking.

But right then, swordlight flickered around Zhang Yu.

”That’s… someone using a Transmission Sigil to force-call him? That sigil’s crazy expensive—who’s spending that much?”

”And 12.75 clearly didn’t prep any countermeasures. Unless he stays offline, there’s no stopping it.”

The flickering swordlight suddenly condensed into a single silhouette—Wen Wuya appeared before Zhang Yu.

Seeing Zhang Yu mid-meal, Wen Wuya understood why he hadn’t replied sooner.

He snapped his fingers—Soundproof Sigil activated—and said, ”I tried bringing up Dual Cultivation with Bai Zhenzhen. Just a few words and now she’s dodging me. Got any ideas? I’m desperate.”

Zhang Yu massaged his rice-addled head, staring helplessly at Wen Wuya. Thank the heavens Bai Zhenzhen had Heavenly Sword Sect’s anti-harassment tools last time—this guy was relentless.

After a beat, Zhang Yu said, ”Ah-Zhen’s into eunuchs.”

”To her, being sterile shows Dao commitment. Big plus for masculinity.”

Wen Wuya pondered. ”That simple? Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

Just then, his gaze flickered. He turned sharply toward Feng Tingting.

Feng Tingting had already flinched the moment Wen Wuya appeared. She’d watched the Flying Sword Tournament and knew exactly who he was—a Nascent Soul disciple from Heavenly Sword Sect.

The fact that he’d spent that much on a forced projection just to contact Zhang Yu? Her curiosity went through the roof.

She activated her Law Husk to try eavesdropping, but Wen Wuya’s Soundproof Sigil was clearly high-tier. Even straining herself, all she could hear was: I… dual cultivate… you… desperate…

Seeing the partial transcript flash across her EyeNet, Feng Tingting’s pupils shrank.

”Wait… seriously?”

”Zhang Yu is a dual cultivation partner of a Nascent Soul disciple?”

”He scored a fortuitous encounter this huge?”

But the next moment, Wen Wuya turned his gaze to her, murder in his eyes.

”Listening in?”

”You’ve got some nerve.”

He reached out with one hand—and Feng Tingting saw the characters on her EyeNet snatched up and crushed to powder, disintegrating on the spot.