https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-297-The-Warm-Current-of-Friendship-Flows/13686848/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-299-Lingbi-Spent-Yet-Still-by-His-Side-in-Another-Way/13686850/
Chapter 298: Get in the car! The door's about to be welded shut! (Please vote for the month!)
“Alchemy Department? Damn it… why the hell are they cutting admissions?”
Zhang Yu never expected that, even after entering university, he’d face a situation eerily similar to what his high school martial arts teacher, Lei Jun, had once endured.
Only this time, it wasn’t the Foundation Establishment Qualification Certificate that was being scaled back—it was graduate school admissions.
After spending some time searching the Ling Network, Zhang Yu couldn’t find any official reason for the cutbacks.
But that evening, back in the dormitory and taking medicine, Zhang Pianpian listened to his confusion and offered some answers.
She said, “Rumor has it, several alchemy masters at the Divine Formation level led a protest. They claim current university resources in the Alchemy Department can’t match the number of students.”
As her fingertip danced lightly across the Lushu, countless data streams shimmered into view within her Eye Armor.
“Secondly,” she continued, “they argue the current quality of Alchemy students is too low. They should raise the standards even further.”
Zhang Yu mentally cursed. “So it’s like they’re boarding the train and welding the door shut behind them?”
Zhang Pianpian shook her head. “These are just surface-level excuses.”
“The real reason…” She traced a symbol on the Lushu—something Zhang Yu couldn’t decipher. Instantly, a flood of deep Ling Realm data flared behind her eyes.
She smiled faintly. “The truth? It’s likely the Top Ten Elite Universities have joined forces to cap student numbers across all universities, solidifying their dominance.”
“Zhang Yu,” she sighed, “if you’re still aiming for Alchemy Department grad school, you’re going to face even steeper hurdles.”
She continued, “I checked the past few years’ admission standards—each year, they’ve kept rising.”
“Even transferring departments has gotten stricter. You now need to be in the top 50 of your entire department.”
“For Civil Engineering? Top 20 is the minimum.”
Zhang Yu blurted out, “What? That’s insane! How can anyone even meet those standards?”
“Top 20 in Civil Engineering? I’ve only just cracked the top 20 in my whole department—without even splitting by year! Who the hell set this bar?”
Zhang Pianpian replied calmly, “That’s just the application threshold.”
“Under the new system, if you’re competing against others, you’ll also need extra points.”
“Skills like mastering Alchemy, pill cultivation, medicine crafting, or formation arrays—any of these Immortal Dao techniques can earn you bonus points, giving you priority in admission.”
Zhang Yu’s brow furrowed tighter. Those bonus skills? They all sounded like they cost a fortune. This wasn’t about talent—it was about money.
Zhang Pianpian added, “If you’re still serious about the Alchemy path, you’ll need to push even harder.”
“By the time your cohort arrives, the requirements will likely be even higher.”
She sighed. “It’s just how things are now. Popular majors are shrinking—this is the trend.”
“Not just Alchemy. Wanfa University’s three flagship departments are all cutting intake.”
“Finance Department’s standards? They’ve skyrocketed into the stratosphere.”
“Think of it like a table—same size, but more people trying to eat. More guests mean less food for everyone.”
“Over time, climbing in Kunxu will only get harder.”
“Even the Top Ten Sects… in a few years, they might stop recruiting altogether.”
Zhang Yu had been frowning at the news about graduate admissions and department cuts, but he’d managed to stay composed—just telling himself he’d work harder.
But when Zhang Pianpian said the final line, his eyes snapped wide open.
“Sister… Senior sister!” he exclaimed. “What did you just say?”
“Top Ten Sects… might stop recruiting in a few years?”
At that moment, the long-dormant Ritual Power—something he hadn’t felt in ages—flickered back to life within him, a familiar chill creeping through his bones.
He’d once believed that getting into a Top Ten Elite University would let him finally breathe easy. Now, that illusion shattered.
He remembered clearly the path he’d vowed to follow:
Enter university → Join a sect → Use sect stipends to buy ancient artifacts.
“If the Top Ten Sects stop taking students… how the hell am I supposed to fulfill my Ritual wish?”
“And if I graduate without fulfilling it… will the Ritual consume me?”
“Fujie! Did you hear that? Can’t you just shut this damn Ritual down?!”
Fujie chuckled nervously. “Well… I didn’t expect things to get this intense.”
As Zhang Yu’s mind reeled, Zhang Pianpian studied his face, then spoke quietly.
“Now that I’ve seen things from the top, I realize how different it is from what we imagined.”
“Since the College Entrance Exam System and the university framework were established, every year has seen new geniuses rise—brilliant prodigies plucked straight from the Top Ten Elite Universities into the Top Ten Sects.”
“Under this system, the ranks of the Top Ten Sects have grown steadily. Each year, more celestial geniuses emerge.”
“Each one of them is a master of talent and brilliance.”
“With so many extraordinary talents pouring into the sects, climbing the spiritual path… don’t you think it’s getting crowded up there?”
“For the Top Ten Sects, the supply of immortal talent may already be overflowing.”
“And when the train gets too packed? Naturally, they raise the bar to get on.”
Zhang Pianpian sighed. “Based on what I’ve gathered, the data suggests the Top Ten Sects may have had no ordinary humans for some time now. Birth rates might have hit zero long ago. Even those who work there can’t settle—after a certain period, they’re forced to come back down.”
“I’d say… we’re nearing that critical point.”
“After that? The Top Ten Sects might stop admitting disciples altogether. And the heavenly realms above the tenth level? They may no longer open their doors to the outside.”
“Above and below the sects… will become two separate worlds.”
Zhang Yu’s mind boiled. “Why does this have to happen now?”
“If I’d been born twenty or forty years earlier… the whole path would’ve been so much easier!”
“Now it’s hard enough—but what if they just shut it down entirely?”
Zhang Pianpian watched his stormy expression and asked, “Zhang Yu… do you really want to join the Top Ten Sects?”
He nodded. “Do you think I still have a chance?”
She checked the data.
“Last year, the sects recruited only… five students from Alchemy Departments across all universities.”
Zhang Yu’s face twitched. “Wait—Wanfa Sect?”
“No,” she said. “Five total. Four in the Foundation Establishment stage, one in the Jin Dan stage.”
“You’ll need to reach Doctorate level just to have a shot.”
Zhang Yu felt his heart sink.
Then he remembered the expanding Civil Engineering Department, and a sliver of hope flickered.
“What about Civil Engineering?” he asked. “They must be recruiting more, right?”
Zhang Pianpian replied flatly: “Zero.”
“Last year? Not a single Civil Engineering recruit.”
“They’ve effectively stopped accepting students from that department.”
“From what I’ve seen, your best shot is still Alchemy. The other departments either have worse odds—or are about the same.”
Zhang Yu asked, “So… how many years until the Top Ten Sects stop recruiting completely?”
“Five? Ten? Twenty?”
Zhang Pianpian shook her head. “Hard to say. To immortals, ten or thirty years… might as well be the same.”
Zhang Yu frowned. “You never considered joining the Top Ten Sects yourself?”
Zhang Pianpian smiled faintly. “The Eight Great Righteous Gods are my true path.”
She added softly, “Now that I’m in university, I realize… we were just born a little too late.”
Zhang Yu clenched his fist, his mind racing. “No… this won’t work. Not like this. It’s too dangerous.”
Zhang Pianpian said, “If you really want to seize this last chance, you’ll need to finish your credits early and apply for graduation.”
“But that means compressing your cultivation into a shorter time. Then you’ll have to compete against elites who’ve trained for ten years for grad school spots. Then, even faster, finish your PhD—just to fight for the next level.”
She shook her head. “Just… focus on what’s in front of you for now.”
Zhang Yu thought, “Graduate early?”
She added, “And remember—don’t rush.”
“Haste makes waste. Don’t panic. Don’t expose yourself.”
Zhang Yu nodded, forcing his mind to calm.
Since entering university, he’d thrived—thanks to his deep foundation. His cultivation, strength, grades, and rankings had all risen steadily.
After joining the Construction Site, even his Lingbi had begun increasing noticeably.
He’d thought he could just keep progressing step by step—take exams, climb the ladder—until one day, he’d finally join the Top Ten Sects.
But Kunxu’s reality was far worse than he’d imagined.
And the Top Ten Sects’ policies? He couldn’t change them.
All he could do now was push harder—work harder, train harder—just to inch up his slim chance.
As he thought, a cold clarity settled in: “To do this without revealing my unique talent, I need more money.”
He knew: more money = faster progress. And faster progress = a perfect cover for his otherworldly abilities.
“Now that I have the Construction Site job, I don’t have to worry about running out of Lingbi.”
A plan formed in his mind.
“Next step… spend money to boost my strength, use that as proof of efficiency to earn more Lingbi… then spend even more… keep the cycle going.”
Moments later, his Eye Armor flickered with dozens of products and services—items he was already scanning through, deciding what to buy next.
(End of Chapter)
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