https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-134-Finding-Channels-Image-Design-Thanks-to-Qiushui-Ranxinghe-for-the-MVP-Donation-/13686594/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-136-Le-Mulan-s-Rotation-Rapid-Progress-Still-Need-7-More-Monthly-Tickets-/13686596/
Chapter 135: 10th-Rank Residual Cow, Hidden Currents Stirring
(Thanks to 'Luogute Prince' for the MVP donation)
Listening to Bai Zhenzhen and Miao Yun’s conversation, Zhang Yu’s eyes flickered. Though he’d been in Kunxu for nearly half a year, much of the knowledge and information remained buried deep in his mind—unconnected, unactivated, like dormant seeds.
Now, however, as he heard their talk, fragments of memory began to surface. Ah… in Kunxu, a face can be sold too. Beauty itself is quantifiable in currency.
Without delay, Zhang Yu pulled out his phone and logged into the Face Model Website, eager to see what his own face was worth.
After facial recognition completed, the system returned a cold reply: "This face model has already been sold."
Checking the transaction history, he found the sale price—just 2,000 yuan. And it was a one-time, lifetime copyright buyout.
There was also a user review:
"Handsome, but utterly generic."
Zhang Yu sighed inwardly. I knew it. The original body sold it off ages ago.
“Damn, sold cheap. If only I’d waited until I was more famous… this face model would’ve been worth a fortune.”
He scrolled through other high-value face models. Even celebrities, internet stars, and influencers—just average prices. Why? Because their models were purely cosmetic.
The real money was in functional face models.
Like the faces of the Eight Great Righteous Gods—each granting a bonus to talismans.
Or the seductive face models, used as tools in niche industries.
Even bizarre, non-human face models—due to the complex surgical and anatomical requirements—commanded premium prices.
Just then, Miao Yun stepped in front of him.
She pressed a single fingertip against his chest.
A wave of cold martial energy surged into his body—immediately clashing with the Great Sun Martial Energy already circulating through his meridians.
The clash triggered a violent reversal in his energy flow. Miao Yun jerked her hand back instantly, her expression flickering with surprise.
“Passive cultivation-based energy cycle?”
“I didn’t even master that until my third year…”
“Another rich kid, huh? Honestly… I’m jealous.”
She blew on her fingertip, feigning annoyance.
“Hey, cutie—burned me. Pull that energy back, will ya?”
Zhang Yu snapped out of it, instantly shutting down the passive cultivation in his Great Sun Qi Sea.
Hours later, after the ad shoot wrapped up, the first installment of his 600,000 yuan endorsement fee—after taxes—landed in his account.
Seeing his balance jump to over 480,000 yuan, Zhang Yu couldn’t help but feel a surge of excitement.
…
A few days later.
It was late April.
With the widespread rollout of New Physique Enhancement Technology, Songyang High School was beginning to see scattered Purple People, Black People, and even Beastfolk drifting through its halls.
Now, in the classroom of the First-Year Model Class, Teacher Su Haifeng’s eyes glowed with electric intensity as he promoted Ziyun’s Super Metabolism surgery.
“To boost student performance,” he announced, “Ziyun Pharmaceutical has partnered with the school to offer a discounted Super Metabolism Surgery package—so you can take performance-enhancing drugs with comfort, confidence, and peace of mind.”
“If your family can’t afford it,” he added, “come to me. I can arrange a loan.”
Zhao Tianxing stared at the surgery application form in his hand, hesitating.
Artificial Demon Muscle… or Super Metabolism?
Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen had both chosen Artificial Demon Muscle. But Super Metabolism wasn’t just surgery—it required ongoing, expensive drug maintenance. A heavy burden on the family.
Around him, classmates murmured, caught in the same dilemma.
Zhao Tianxing turned to Qian Shen. “What about you?”
Qian Shen glanced at him. Not the brightest, but decent character, he thought.
So he answered honestly:
“I was planning to start with Artificial Demon Muscle, then do Super Metabolism, and finally Black Dragon Bloodline. All three stabilize scores—solid progression.”
Zhao Tianxing clenched his teeth. Damn, rich kid again.
Qian Shen continued:
“Turns out… all these full-body modification surgeries are mutually incompatible. So I had to settle for Super Metabolism.”
At that moment, Teacher Su Haifeng raised his voice:
“Other new enhancement technologies? Just shortcuts—temporary strength boosts. But Super Metabolism? It elevates your cultivation speed for life, expands your long-term potential.
If you don’t act now, you’ll fall behind. And soon, you’ll be left behind—useless. You might not even stay in Model Class.”
Zhao Tianxing looked around. More and more students were signing their names.
He saw them—like a stampede of Purple People, Black People, Beastfolk—racing forward, leaving him behind.
One foot already stepped outside the door of Model Class.
He took a deep breath.
And in the end, he abandoned his plan to save money for his family.
He signed the application.
Teacher Su Haifeng watched the sea of signatures, his gaze distant.
Green Oasis, Xianyun, Ziyun, Hongta… What are they really planning?
Could it be true… like the Master said? Are they building something?
His eyes swept across the classroom—two empty seats.
“Where are Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen?”
He Dayou shot up. “They skipped class!”
Su Haifeng’s eyes flickered. If it were any other student… I’d show them how to write the paper “On the Application Prospects of Electric Shock in High School Education.”
But Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen?
They’d just pull out competition awards, call in teachers from Mana Class, Martial Arts, PE—no matter how hard he tried, he’d be powerless.
“Never mind. Zhang Pianpian leaves in a month. Someone else will handle them then.”
Down below, He Dayou stared at Su Haifeng in disbelief. Even the school’s most feared authority—this year’s High School Demon—was turning a blind eye to Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen’s truancy.
Is it really true? If you’re good enough, you can do whatever you want?
…
Meanwhile.
On the rooftop.
Zhang Yu’s mind conjured the image of the silenced cow—its form trembling, then letting out a deafening roar as it ascended.
His Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique had finally reached 10th Rank.
With the breakthrough, a surge of relentless willpower surged through him—unyielding, unbreakable, willing to endure a thousand deaths, to fight through every wound, to push forward, forward.
It mirrored his own desperate resolve—his all-in attempt to pass the Foundation Establishment Exam and break into the Top Ten.
Now, the technique flowed smoother than ever. His Dao Heart grew rounder, firmer. His willpower felt stronger than ever.
At the same moment the technique hit 10th Rank, a flood of cultivation insights flooded his mind—new awareness of his body, new control.
This was the true power of the 10th-Rank Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique:
He could now temporarily clear his mind, reduce mental strain, accelerate blood circulation, speed up recovery, and drastically improve his body cultivation efficiency.
“Taoist breathing… heart technique… all finally at 10th Rank.”
Feeling the technique run automatically in his mind, the Great Sun Qi Sea flowing naturally through his meridians, Zhang Yu knew—his path to the Foundation Establishment Certificate was closer than ever.
He glanced at the Feather Scroll displaying his stats.
Dao Heart: 4th Rank (89%)
Martial Energy: 48.1
Physical Strength Level: 4.96
“These past days, I’ve focused only on cultivation and heart techniques… but never trained my body.”
“Now that both the Great Sun Qi Sea and the Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique have reached 10th Rank… I can finally shift my focus to physical training.”
Zhang Yu had always planned to take the physical route in the Foundation Establishment Exam. His next priority? Pushing his Physical Strength Level higher.
But he knew—on Kunxu, brute effort alone wouldn’t cut it.
Fortunately, he’d already prepared a full plan for body cultivation.
…
After school.
In their rented apartment.
Bai Zhenzhen leaned against the door, listening to the rhythmic thud-thud-thud from inside.
“Two hours… I’ll just find a quiet spot and meditate.”
Inside, Zhang Yu and Le Mulan stood face to face, their expressions grim, locked in a brutal close-combat drill.
Le Mulan’s icy legs wrapped around Zhang Yu’s torso, exerting crushing pressure with every twist.
The contact carried a shocking amount of force—skin against skin, heat against cold.
Now, Le Mulan felt the warmth of his body through the contact. Though still scorching, she managed to suppress the instinctive disgust on her face.
She focused solely on the physical contest, using it to learn Zhang Yu’s techniques.
Zhang Yu trained with equal seriousness. As he fought, he deliberately rubbed his body against the sweat and ointment still clinging to Le Mulan’s skin.
He quickly realized: the harder the fight, the more her body absorbed the medicine. The more ointment was released.
His hands slid along the firm, cool thigh—still warm, but now slick with a thin layer of healing fluid.
Every rub drew out more medicine.
Even when the sensation made him briefly lose focus, he snapped back—channeling his mind into the Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique, banishing all distractions.
Two hours passed.
Bai Zhenzhen knocked on the door.
“Done?”
“A Zhen, wait,” Zhang Yu called. “Le Mulan’s still showering.”
A moment later, Le Mulan emerged, dressed, and glanced at Zhang Yu lying on the floor—still soaked in medicinal fluid.
She gave a dry remark:
“Looks like you’re getting used to it.”
Zhang Yu’s entire body was coated in a fragrant, glowing ointment. As it seeped through his skin, his muscles, martial energy, and mind all surged with vitality.
When she asked, “So… you really won’t drink it?”
He answered firmly:
“I’ll never drink it.
But I won’t wash it off either.”
To save money. To speed up cultivation. To pass the Foundation Establishment Exam.
Zhang Yu had decided to use Le Mulan’s medicine—as is.
Le Mulan smiled faintly. A strange curiosity stirred within her.
She thought of her own journey—how she’d sacrificed, adapted, changed, all to justify the mountains of money poured into her.
And yet here was this poor boy—refusing to drink the medicine.
Would he really never give in?
What if the value were higher?
(End of Chapter)
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