No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

Watching Zhang Yu’s blank expression, as if he didn’t even know his own ranking, Li Xiao sighed to himself.

“So this is what it means to stay calm in the face of big events, huh?”

“Even after the exam ended, he didn’t immediately go check the rankings... not even a refresh…”

“Steady. Way too steady.”

“He knew how much his strength had improved after all that training. Knew his grades were about to shoot through the roof.”

“And yet he could resist even a glance. That kind of unshakable mental discipline… seriously impressive.”

Li Xiao imagined himself in the same position—he was sure he couldn’t do it. If he knew he’d done well, he’d be glued to the leaderboard the moment the clock ticked over.

Meanwhile, in the Foundation Establishment class group chat, their homeroom teacher, Immortal Jiao Lei, was still typing away.

Immortal Jiao Lei: I want to give special recognition to Zhang Yu.

Immortal Jiao Lei: I still remember how, not long after we started class in June, Zhang Yu’s performance dropped into the lower-middle tier.

Immortal Jiao Lei: And yet, in just eight short months, he’s clawed his way to second in the entire class. A transformation that’s nothing short of extraordinary. Every one of you should take this as a lesson.

Immortal Jiao Lei: Of course, the top three students this term are all exceptional. I’ve already applied for this semester’s scholarship loans on their behalf.

At the construction site, Zhang Yu’s hands slowed as he poured concrete.

“College professors really do have a way with words. That comment cut straight to the core.”

He saved screenshots of the class rankings and the teacher’s remarks before checking the rest of his messages.

…

Che Yufei, who had worked alongside Zhang Yu for the past three months, had also been curious about his grades.

From his perspective, Zhang Yu looked like he might keel over at any second—and he was still forcing down pills like a madman. Clearly, higher education had broken the guy.

“Taking finals in that state… his grades must’ve tanked, right?”

Still, every day after rankings were updated, Che Yufei would check his own position… and then take a peek at Zhang Yu’s.

Today’s look nearly made his eyes pop. “Second?!”

“Higher than that filthy rich Gongshu Jin guy from the same class?!”

“If this guy actually makes it to graduation alive… I don’t even want to imagine what his salary will be.”

For the first time, Che Yufei felt like he was witnessing the rise of a new civil engineering star.

He took a screenshot of the leaderboard and sent it to Shi Yunxiang: Bro, check out Zhang Yu’s rank.

Then, after a moment’s thought, he messaged Zhang Yu directly: Impressive. Shot all the way up to second in the class.

…

In the Spiritual Realm—

As a soul cultivation student at Fengdu Technical College, Zhao Tianxing’s eyes skimmed the endless flood of platform comments scrolling across his screen.

“Damn you! Trash evaluation! Bought reviews! Hope you go bankrupt and spend your whole life as a soul cultivator!”

Zhao Tianxing blinked, flagged it for abusive content, and silenced the user for a month.

“Recommended by a Nascent Soul cultivator! Hot new Technique resources! Personal guidance from a Pleasure and Harmony Sect companion cultivator! Tap my profile!”

He flagged this one for spam marketing and hit the permanent ban button.

As hundreds of comments streamed past like a waterfall, Zhao Tianxing processed them one by one.

Then, a familiar notification sound popped up.

Zhao Tianxing’s eyes flicked over. His skills had been steadily improving since reaching the second floor of Kunxu, and he’d begun integrating them into daily life.

This particular sound was part of an automated alert system he’d built.

It could mean a coupon was about to expire. Or that his Spiritual Realm subscription needed renewing. Or it might be a heads-up for discount scavenging… or—like now—a classmate’s rank had changed.

“Zhang Yu’s second in his class?”

“He’s seriously strong. Even up here on the second floor.”

Zhao Tianxing started to send a message, but paused to draft a few versions first.

After reviewing them and agonizing over the tone, he finally picked the one that felt most natural:

Zhao Tianxing: Impressive.

Just as he was about to follow up with a second message…

A warning popped up on his screen.

Warning: Chatting unrelated to official duties is prohibited during work hours.

…

Zhang Yu saw Zhao Tianxing’s message and replied: Just a small achievement, nothing worth mentioning.

When there was no response, Zhang Yu wasn’t surprised. Soul cultivators were always swamped.

He clicked through a few more messages—mostly from classmates or hometown friends who’d added him online and noticed the sudden leap in his ranking.

Naturally, his dorm mates chimed in too.

In the dorm group chat, Yu Xinghan wrote: Bro, no celebratory red envelope?

Zhang Yu replied: You placed ninth—top ten finish—where’s your red envelope?

He still remembered how, on his first day back at the dorm, Yu Xinghan had dragged him over to brag about his seventh-place rank.

And Yu Xinghan still remembered the first time he laid eyes on the white-haired Zhang Yu and felt grateful he hadn’t been sent on that brutal fieldwork assignment.

“Zhang Yu looked half-dead. If I’d gone, I might not have come back. The Civil Engineering Department seriously treats its students like livestock. Might as well call them soul cultivators.”

But after seeing Zhang Yu rocket to second place, Yu Xinghan had to admit: the guy got real returns from those three months.

Still, watching Zhang Yu’s daily recovery this past week made him realize he could never keep up.

“This guy’s body… it’s just insane.”

Meanwhile, Le Mulan popped into the chat: What’s going on?

Zhang Yu quickly dropped screenshots of the class ranking and Immortal Jiao Lei’s comments—but got no reply.

Zhang Yu: @Le Mulan?

She’d already sent the screenshots to her brother, Le Jingchen: Zhang Yu’s made huge progress. Think Feather Juice prices could go up?

Seeing Zhang Yu’s tag, she hurried to respond: Zhang Yu, you’re amazing! When are you coming back to the dorm?

Zhang Yu: Pulling a late shift. Morning, probably.

At that moment, Zhang Pianpian sent a private message—not in the group.

Zhang Pianpian: I secretly watched your exam footage. The acting was solid. Next time, spill more blood.

Zhang Pianpian: Acting desperate makes a great cover. Your score was perfectly balanced. Second place is ideal—first would’ve been too high-profile.

Zhang Yu looked at her messages and thought, “Wait… I really was pushing myself out there.”

As dawn broke, Zhang Yu’s overnight shift finally ended, and most of his physical strength had returned.

“This Sacrificial Oxheart Technique really works wonders.”

“Wonder where I can find the rest of that Chain Diagram set…”

Walking out of the construction site, Zhang Yu could feel the glow of his ranking overhead becoming more vivid, more eye-catching.

Workers along the way kept sneaking glances upward—then gave him respectful nods.

Qi Refinement students even scrambled out of his path, afraid to block the way.

Even upperclassmen from the Civil Engineering Department nodded at him with subtle acknowledgment when their eyes met.

Zhang Yu thought to himself, “Fu Ji, these college rankings do have their perks. People really respect each other more.”

Fu Ji, hearing this, cursed inwardly: “Like hell that’s what you used to say.”

Still, seeing Zhang Yu’s performance in the finals, Fu Ji couldn’t help but be impressed. “Every time I think this kid’s talent has peaked, he shows me something even more insane.”

As someone who had been with Zhang Yu 24/7, even witnessing his self-reward rituals firsthand, Fu Ji knew one thing for sure—Zhang Yu hadn’t always been this resistant to those life-shortening pills.

“It’s like he’s secretly getting stronger when I’m not looking. But I’m always right here. How is that possible?”

“Could he be… a reincarnated immortal?”

“No way. What kind of reincarnated immortal would be this broke?! Or start off on the first floor?!”

As Zhang Yu left the site, Sheng Jie, standing at the gate, was momentarily stunned.

Staring at the glowing “Second in Foundation Establishment Class” above Zhang Yu’s head, he muttered, “He’s second? Zhang Yu is actually second?”

“Wait… did he take the exam yesterday? That would explain the midnight ranking update…”

Just as Sheng Jie tried to make sense of it, Zhang Yu looked over.

Instinctively, he gave a nod. Zhang Yu returned it.

A security guard nearby nudged Sheng Jie. “Isn’t that your classmate?”

But the rest of his question got stuck in his throat.

That “second place” rank above Zhang Yu’s head seemed to radiate pressure—like a solid force crushing their words.

They all understood: anyone who could rank second in the Foundation Establishment class was no ordinary person.

Watching Zhang Yu leave, the guards gathered around Sheng Jie in awe.

“He’s really from your level?”

…

Back in the dorm, Zhang Yu took his morning meds, changed clothes, and got ready for class like usual.

Though the first semester finals had just ended, the second semester was about to begin.

From March through August came the final stretch of freshman year.

When Zhang Yu walked into the classroom, he could feel eyes tracking him from every corner.

Li Xiao waved him and Yu Xinghan over. “Yo, Yu-ge! Got seats here!”

Class. Blood draws. Cultivation practice.

Just like that, another day passed.

That night, Zhang Yu opened a comm-link with Bai Zhenzhen, as he always did.

She greeted him with a smirk. “Not bad, Yuzi. Second in the class.”

Zhang Yu grinned. “I guess the score kind of justifies all that effort.”

Bai Zhenzhen said, “Mom sent you more meat. You’re still pretty drained—eat up.”

“And fix your hair sometime, will you? The white makes you look old and broke. Kinda depressing.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Zhang Yu said, eyeing her formal dress. “You at some event, Ah-Zhen?”

Bai Zhenzhen nodded. “Yeah, the opening ceremony for the Ten Academies League. This year it’s hosted by Heavenly Sword Sect University. I’m just here to look around.”