Chapter 234: Foundation License, At Last
A wave of terrifying acidic mist surged toward them. The intense corrosion caused Zhang Yu’s skin to sizzle with smoke, and a searing pain made him involuntarily furrow his brows.
Zhang Yu could tell—if this went on, the acid would eat through his flesh and blood, and it wouldn’t stop there. It could kill him.
He instantly flexed and rippled every muscle in his body. As each inch of skin quaked with effort, a gale-like force erupted from him, scattering the acid mist.
But the cost of channeling this energy to resist the acid was that Zhang Yu inevitably held back some of his strength.
Night Lingxiao, across from him, couldn’t capitalize on that moment of weakness to pull the Dragon-Binding Chain either—he too had to ripple his body with force, generating gales to ward off the mist.
Zhang Yu, however, could feel the Martial Saint Embryo’s healing kicking in. Whether it was burns, pressure, gravity, or corrosion—it was all slowly regenerating.
And he still had two cards left to play.
With a roar, the character “Zen” on his chest dissolved. The toxins in his system ignited his hidden potential, pushing his body into overdrive.
Veins bulged across Zhang Yu’s forehead, but in his mind he was still screaming: “I’m not done yet.”
Then came the overload of the Martial Saint Embryo. Roar!
His arms bulked up again, and he grew from 2.8 meters tall to 3.3.
Both the Endless Spring and Autumn Meditation’s toxin burst and the overload of the Martial Saint Embryo forced his body beyond its limits.
Used together, they made him feel like his entire body was on fire. Strength surged from every muscle fiber, conducted through every tendon, so much force it made his bones creak.
But the price was immense. Muscles tore. Bones fractured. Organs compressed. Capillaries ruptured.
Even with the healing boost from the Martial Saint Embryo, his body couldn’t keep up with the damage.
But none of that mattered to Zhang Yu now.
He’d known from the start what this would take.
“I came here to stake my life.”
“What’s the point of even taking the Foundation License exam if you’re not ready to die for it?”
In that moment, memories from the past year flashed through his mind—test after test, trial after trial, battle after battle.
It was through those grueling experiences that Zhang Yu had learned one truth:
In Kunxu, a world so tightly controlled, climbing upward meant crushing your enemies one by one on the promotion ladder carved out by the Ten Major Sects. Ṙ𝘢ŊՕΒÈŝ
And every opponent—every single one—would go to extremes. Squeezing themselves. Squeezing their families. Squeezing each other. Just to scrape together one more point.
This Immortal Candidate before him was no exception.
He would give everything he had for a chance to win.
And Zhang Yu could only do the same. Burn every ounce of strength. Stake everything for that priceless Foundation License.
“I promised Ah-Zhen. I promised my sister. We’re going to college together.”
“I’ll get into the Ten Academies. I’ll join a sect!”
“I’ll climb Kunxu. Break free of the rituals. Earn my freedom!”
Every cultivation Technique he’d learned in the past year surged through his mind. He could see the muscle pathways, the energy flows, crystal clear.
Technique, power, potential—Zhang Yu unleashed it all.
His will, his strength, everything flowed through one Technique after another, through every reinforced muscle strand, and finally into the Dragon-Binding Chain—slamming toward Night Lingxiao.
Boom!
He pivoted sharply on the platform with an explosive stomp, dragging the chain toward himself step by step, pulling away from the platform’s edge.
With Zhang Yu’s explosion of power, Night Lingxiao suddenly felt a monstrous force from the other end of the chain pulling him toward the brink.
Just a moment ago, he’d had Zhang Yu nearly falling off. Now he himself was two or three steps from the edge.
To Night Lingxiao, beyond that edge looked like a bottomless cliff.
Fall—and he’d lose not just the Foundation License, but wealth, opportunity, and any shot at climbing upward.
In a daze, he heard a voice echo in his mind:
“Little brother, let’s fight him together.”
“Brother?” Night Lingxiao murmured. “You’ve been with me this whole time… inside my heart?”
“Don’t let us die for nothing.”
“Don’t let the countless generations of the Ye clan—our brothers, sisters, kin—sacrifice in vain.”
“Use our strength. Take the Ye clan higher. Rise above this muddy First Floor. Break through to the upper floors of Kunxu!”
Unconsciously, Night Lingxiao bit down on his second Divided Soul Pill.
His brain temperature spiked. Dizziness followed—but strangely, he could think with triple the clarity, as if three minds were working in unison, channeling more Techniques than he ever could before.
Blood, organs, bones, fascia—every part of him was activated, pushing his power output to its peak.
The Dragon-Binding Chain, previously being dragged mercilessly, slowed slightly.
But—it still wasn’t enough!
Crack!
Zhang Yu’s finger bones shattered under his own strength.
And Night Lingxiao took one more step toward the cliff’s edge.
“Still not enough?”
“Are we… still no match for him?”
“Then we keep going.”
“You university reps like watching us fight to the death, right?”
“Then feast your eyes today.”
Suddenly, Zhang Yu felt the force at the other end of the chain surge again.
“He still had this card?”
“No… that voice—”
He spun his head to look—Night Lingxiao was engulfed in green mist, sizzling as acid ate away at his flesh.
“He stopped fighting the acid—he’s using everything he’s got against me!”
At that moment, the hazardous environment shifted again. More toxic mist surged toward them both.
Zhang Yu once more flexed his muscles to blow it away.
But Night Lingxiao didn’t bother.
His eyes locked on Zhang Yu, on the chain, on one goal: to win. He would burn every last scrap of strength to seize that Foundation License.
Seeing him risk death, Zhang Yu suddenly understood the exam’s real purpose.
“The Righteous Gods planned this, didn’t they? They knew we’d fight to the brink of death.”
“Those smug bastards in the stands—they really love watching us risk it all, huh?”
Looking at the bloodied, discolored Night Lingxiao, Zhang Yu murmured in his heart, “I don’t even know your name.”
“But I can feel your will, your determination, in this chain.”
“But I won’t lose either.”
“When it comes to staking our lives—I’m better at that than you!”
He too stopped resisting the mist. Every shred of focus, every muscle of strength, poured into the Dragon-Binding Chain.
Boom!
Their forces clashed, sending a violent tremor down the chain.
The environment changed again—heat, pressure, acid, poison.
But none of it mattered now.
Their flesh scorched, organs roasted.
Cavities ruptured, bones snapped.
Poison spread with each movement.
But their minds had only one thought left.
Win.
Use everything. Use your most goddamn powerful force, your strongest will—and drag the other down!
Crack!
Night Lingxiao’s right leg snapped. He dropped to one knee.
Zhang Yu, thanks to his regenerative boost, though bloodied, stayed standing.
Night Lingxiao’s fracture shattered the balance—and the chain began to move again.
“Am I going to lose?”
As he was dragged toward the cliff’s edge, despair flickered in Night Lingxiao’s heart.
“Is this the end?”
The family’s expectations, the dying wishes of his siblings, all the exams, honors, number-one rankings…
They had once felt like chains.
But he had come to understand—the clan didn’t bind him. They had pushed him. They gave him a chance.
“I want a future where Ye clan descendants don’t have to sacrifice everything to reach what others are born with.”
“I want the Ye clan to move to the Second Floor. To gain household registration. To become a Second-Floor clan.”
They weren’t his chains—they were his organs, driving him forward to this very moment.
And now, he felt them pushing him one last time.
Meanwhile, the toxin buildup in Zhang Yu’s chest had reached critical mass—he triggered a second burst of Endless Spring and Autumn Meditation.
The first burst came from the toxins he had consumed earlier.
This one was from the toxins inhaled during the environment hazard.
Though Night Lingxiao was on one knee, Zhang Yu stayed cautious.
From experience—and from Bai Zhenzhen’s training—he knew: the most dangerous moment was right before victory.
His entire body erupted in bloody mist. Every cell screamed, roared, teetered on the edge of death.
But the more dangerous it got, the more he felt excitement. Pain dulled. His Dao Heart grew sharper, clearer.
Zhang Yu roared, “That Foundation License is mine!”
Night Lingxiao bit down on his last Divided Soul Pill.
He remembered the lab director’s warning: “No more than three per day. Not even your perfect bloodline can handle it.”
This was his fourth.
The drug surged through his system—and then, strangely, his mind cleared. Something in his brain seemed to awaken.
“I can handle four.”
He felt like four versions of himself were working together—dividing tasks, optimizing every bodily function.
But it was already too late.
The Dragon-Binding Chain, now like a berserk dragon, twisted violently in his hands.
He tried to restrain it—but his arm broke under the pressure.
Though his mind had advanced, his body was finished.
And then came the backlash—searing pain tore through his skull, like iron rods stabbing his brain.
He could no longer resist.
That dreamlike clarity in his mind was torn apart by cold, crushing reality.
Boom!
Zhang Yu, with one last monstrous yank, hurled the Dragon-Binding Chain into the air.
Night Lingxiao—still clinging to it—was flung skyward.
As he soared, he glanced down at Zhang Yu, standing tall amidst a storm of blood mist.
Steam roiled from his muscles. Blood burst in clouds. He looked like a war god forged in fire and flesh.
Night Lingxiao thought, “How the hell is his body that strong?”
Zhang Yu gripped the chain and flung Night Lingxiao like a comet toward the spectator stands.
Gasps filled the arena. No one had expected such a dramatic turnaround.
Just before impact, divine energy shimmered through the air, catching Night Lingxiao and holding him aloft.
Zhang Yu faced Huang Zichou and asked, “Did I win?”
“Did I get the Foundation License?”
Huang Zichou activated divine sigils to stabilize Zhang Yu’s wounds before declaring:
“Third trial winner: Zhang Yu!”
“Overall winner of the Foundation Establishment Exam’s sports track: Zhang Yu!”
“By the decree of the Heavenly Court, Zhang Yu is awarded the Foundation License!”
Upon hearing that, Zhang Yu collapsed into the pool of his own blood.
“Finally…”
Sleepless nights, death-defying fights, and every yuan of debt in the bank… all of it had led to this.
He had earned his ticket to the Ten Academies—barely.
He looked back at the road he’d walked and thought: It’s so damn hard to climb Kunxu.
Then he threw his head back and let out a roar that echoed across the arena.
Huang Zichou didn’t mind. He’d seen every reaction after a Foundation License—heart attacks, strokes, even breakdowns. Zhang Yu’s response was practically normal.
Night Lingxiao, meanwhile, succumbed to his wounds and drug overload, falling unconscious in midair.