No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

No Money to Cultivate Immortality?

In the Spiritual Realm projection, Bai Zhenzhen was drenched in sweat, steam rising from her body. A faint trace of killing intent still lingered on her face, as if she'd just finished a fierce battle.

Zhang Yu asked in surprise, “Did you just finish your exam?”

Bai Zhenzhen nodded. “Phew, I only got a ten-minute break.”

“The last exam started yesterday morning and went on until deep into the night. We had to fight across hundreds of kilometers…”

She paused, then let out a helpless sigh. “The exam content’s classified military material. I can’t really talk about it. Let’s drop the subject.”

Hearing that, Zhang Yu’s mind stirred. So the final exams at Heavenly Sword Sect University… are just like the Civil Engineering Department’s at Wanfa University—geared toward preparing for possible war?

Bai Zhenzhen looked hopeful. “How did your finals go? Did you beat that Ji Yuanshu guy?”

Zhang Yu immediately sent over a screenshot of his ranking. Bai Zhenzhen’s eyes lit up when she saw it, and she smiled with pride. “As expected of my good son. You did great.”

Her eyes gleamed with ambition. “We’re one step closer to the Ten School Tournament now.”

Zhang Yu gave a slight nod. He hadn’t forgotten their pact to both qualify for the tournament.

“Oh, by the way,” Bai Zhenzhen added, “I mailed you some snacks again. Should arrive in the next couple of days—don’t forget to pick them up.”

“I’ll be heading to Wanfa University around November for the Flying Sword Tournament. If you’re free, come watch me compete.”

“November, huh…” Zhang Yu thought. The Civil Engineering Tournament is in December… Looks like Ah-Zhen won’t be able to see mine.

Though I’m still just a backup team member—no point thinking too far ahead.

While Zhang Yu was chatting with Bai Zhenzhen, Le Mulan sat obediently off to the side.

Watching Zhang Yu’s beaming expression, she mused silently, He’s talking to Bai Zhenzhen again, isn’t he?

After over a year of living together, Le Mulan had gotten used to Zhang Yu’s unshakable routine—every evening, whether studying, working, in the dorm or out on a site, he always set aside time to talk to Bai Zhenzhen.

She didn’t even find it strange anymore.

She just couldn’t understand one thing…

Can’t Zhang Yu channel Mana Infusion while he talks to Bai Zhenzhen?

Wouldn’t that be more time-efficient?

Le Mulan shook her head, just about to start Active Breathing, when a message from her brother Le Jingchen interrupted.

Le Jingchen: I checked with the professor. She’s satisfied with your profile. You can go to the interview tomorrow.

Le Jingchen: She’s a top expert in high-end pharmacology and a technical lead at the company. Make sure you learn everything you can from her.

Le Jingchen: Especially about self-produced drug techniques. Your talents are a perfect fit.

Le Mulan understood: so-called self-produced drug techniques meant using one’s own body as a cauldron, Mana as fuel, and refining ingested herbs into various pills.

Compared to building drug factories and mass-production lines, this route didn’t produce high volumes, but it directly linked cultivation level to pharmaceutical quality. The higher one’s realm, the stronger the output.

Plus, unlike mass-production, self-production didn’t require expensive upgrades to manufacturing equipment every time one advanced in cultivation.

After discussing the mentor, Le Jingchen moved on to another matter.

Le Jingchen: The company saw Zhang Yu’s scores. They’re really curious how he beat Ji Yuanshu.

Le Jingchen: But even after analyzing a ton of his materials, they couldn’t extract anything useful.

Le Jingchen: They want to buy his fertility rights—to cultivate a batch of his offspring.

Le Jingchen: Try to feel him out. See if he’s willing.

Le Mulan replied: Doubtful. He’s always valued his fertility rights. He wouldn’t even sell them back on the first floor.

Le Jingchen: Just try. If you get a chance, talk him into it. No point hoarding that copyright. Better to cash out and use the money to boost your strength.

While Le Mulan was chatting with her brother, Zhang Yu stood up and began stretching and limbering up.

“Let’s do this,” he said. “Ah-Zhen, remember how you never beat me back in high school?”

Across the projection, Bai Zhenzhen also warmed up, steam once again rolling off her muscular frame.

She smiled. “Yuzi, your new dorm’s Spiritual Realm connection isn’t bad. Real-time feedback’s solid. Barely any lag.”

“Perfect conditions for me to see where you’re really at now.”

“Remember—when you lose, you call me Mom.”

The next second, their figures overlapped violently in a fierce clash—right inside Zhang Yu’s tiny dorm room.

But since they were connected through the Spiritual Realm network, their physical bodies didn’t actually make contact. Every strike ended just shy, with only the techniques colliding.

In this mode—unable to rely on his formidable physical defenses—Zhang Yu quickly found himself on the back foot. Every move he made, Bai Zhenzhen anticipated effortlessly.

He kept pushing his internal power, growing faster and faster. His strikes began to tear through the air with sonic booms.

Yet no matter how fast he moved, Bai Zhenzhen kept pace.

Often, before his move even finished, she’d already spotted its flaw—forcing him to keep switching techniques just to hold his ground.

“One of me’s not enough? Then I’ll send two.”

Zhang Yu activated the Limitless Heart: Inner Incarnate Body, splitting his focus—left and right hands launched separate martial techniques, flanking Bai Zhenzhen.

She was caught off guard at first—but soon caught up, her sword fingers slicing arcs of lightning through the air as she neutralized both attacks.

Zhang Yu pressed on—then pushed to three parallel thought streams. Then four.

Now his hands, feet, elbows, knees… every part of his body turned into a weapon.

Each strike was unpredictable, form-shifting, like four people piloting one body—finally forcing Bai Zhenzhen into momentary confusion.

But with four separate minds, each thinking differently, his strikes started to conflict.

One mind would command the right hand to launch a frontal palm strike—another would have the right foot kicking backwards to dodge.

The contradictions and interference left Zhang Yu entangled in his own movements.

Just then, as he fully focused on clashing with Bai Zhenzhen—sound barriers exploding around him—he suddenly crashed into something soft and cold.

Bai Zhenzhen’s puzzled voice came through: “Yuzi, what are you doing? Why’d you stop?”

In her perspective, the Spiritual Realm projection only showed Zhang Yu’s figure—she couldn’t see his dorm or surroundings.

Moments later, Zhang Yu severed the projection and turned on his camera—revealing Le Mulan collapsed unconscious on the floor.

Bai Zhenzhen frowned. “Is she asleep?”

“I accidentally knocked her out,” Zhang Yu admitted.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Bai Zhenzhen snapped. “Check her for injuries!”

“I looked already. Her forehead’s a little swollen. I used Cold-Type Mana to bring down the bump.”

“Her breathing’s steady. Should just be a light concussion—nothing serious.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Bai Zhenzhen barked. “You knocked someone out—you need to document everything. Confirm the damage before she wakes up, or you’ll be in trouble.”

Zhang Yu hesitated. He figured he and Le Mulan got along well. “She wouldn’t do that… would she?”

“You ever hear of college students faking injuries after an accident and extorting huge settlements?”

Fu Ji chimed in. “Zhang Yu, she has a point.”

“You’re a Foundation Establishment cultivator now. You move faster than sound. Accidents are bound to happen. You need to learn the whole injury assessment procedure.”

Bai Zhenzhen scoffed. “Strip her clothes and check for external and internal injuries.”

“Even if she’s not trying to scam you, if she has internal trauma and you delay treatment, medical fees will skyrocket—and guess who’s paying?”

Zhang Yu nodded. She had a point. If Le Mulan really did suffer internal damage, he’d better act fast.

Under Bai Zhenzhen’s direction, he peeled off Le Mulan’s outer garments and pants, inspecting her arms and legs.

“Left arm.”

“Right arm.”

“Thighs, too.”

“Turn the lights up. Use the floodlight—can’t see anything like this.”

“Don’t worry—I’m taking pictures for you. Limbs look good. No scratches.”

“Now switch to a wide shot—get the surroundings and impact traces in frame.”

Zhang Yu stared at Le Mulan’s pale, soft body lying on the floor and hesitated. “Isn’t this kind of disrespectful?”

Bai Zhenzhen snorted. “This is standard damage assessment protocol. What does respect have to do with it? Can respect heal her wounds? Lower the bill?”

“Flip her over. Check her stomach and back.”

Zhang Yu complied, rolling her over gently.

“That small bruise on her abdomen—see that? That’s the impact point.”

“Let me get a close-up.”

“Okay, now feel it.”

“What’s it like?”

“Cold,” Zhang Yu said.

“And?”

“Smooth.”

“I’m asking whether her internal organs are damaged, dammit!” Bai Zhenzhen yelled.