Chapter 313: Ultimate Earth and Construction Holy Body
(Thank you, 'Yumian Xiaoxiao Ku Wangba' for your generous support as Alliance Lord)
Zhang Yu’s gaze swept across the rows of newly built factories, a quiet sense of awe stirring within him.
Thanks to the sheer strength and professional expertise of the Foundation Establishment students from the Civil Engineering Department, in just over two months, countless roads had been repaired, underground transport tunnels excavated, and buildings rising like steel forests from the ground. Inside and out, Spirit Armor Production Lines, Fengshui Arrays, and Defense Arrays had been meticulously installed.
The entire project was now more than half-complete. With only one month left before departure—the end of the semester drawing near—the once-ruined industrial zone had transformed into something resembling a small city. Even at night, the complex remained brightly lit, buzzing with the relentless sound of overtime work.
Suddenly, Zhang Yu stopped.
The area ahead was sealed off.
He thought to himself: It must be the Alchemy Department.
The new facility was exclusively dedicated to Spirit Armor production, meaning the construction of the production lines fell under the Alchemy Department’s oversight. Most critical infrastructure—especially the core facilities—was strictly off-limits to anyone outside their ranks. The technical secrets were classified, and no one else was permitted to observe, let alone enter.
Zhang Yu skirted around the blockade. As he passed through, a sharp, foul stench wafted through the air—pungent, almost metallic—making his brows furrow slightly.
Ever since the Alchemy Department had begun setting up the production lines, strange odors had lingered in the air. According to senior students, these were byproducts of the Spirit Armor manufacturing process—chemical emissions from the intense alchemical reactions.
Weapons, spirit tools, pills, flying swords, puppets—every product created in these factories inevitably generated waste: toxic runoff, noxious fumes, and other byproducts. After systematic categorization, they were grouped into 72 distinct types—collectively known as the Seventy-Two Earthly Demonic Qi.
When first discovered, the Qi had been exploited. Due to residual Spiritual Energy and immortal essence, some had attempted to use it for cultivation. Even companies had teamed up with universities to develop specialized Breathing Techniques centered around the Seventy-Two Earthly Demonic Qi, marketing them with promises of physical enhancement, longevity, and rapid Body Refinement.
Zhang Yu recalled the stories his seniors had told him.
But then… more and more people who practiced the technique fell ill. Some died suddenly. The companies were exposed. It turned out they’d hidden the side effects in their lab reports.
Then the executives bowed publicly, apologized, and the lawsuits dragged on for nearly 80 years… with no resolution in sight.
Zhang Yu sighed inwardly. Given how long these executives have lived, this case might drag on for another few hundred years before it’s settled.
Fujie chuckled darkly. “Kunxu-style compensation tactics,” she said. “First, deny it ever happened. Then apologize and claim you’re ‘investigating.’ After the investigation, say you’ll compensate—but by then, the plaintiff’s already passed away. Years later, they claim nothing ever occurred.”
Zhang Yu smirked. “You know a lot about this.”
“I’ve collected followers from company employees before,” Fujie replied. “You want a company to pay? That’s harder than blowing up their entire building.”
As they spoke, Zhang Yu reached the edge of the factory zone—beneath a quiet grove of trees.
His body surged with blood and martial energy. The cultivation process began.
Each punch and kick unleashed a surge of spiritual aura. Muscles rippled, sinews strained, martial energy and physical strength merging into a single, harmonious force. The more Zhang Yu advanced in the Foundation Establishment Stage, the more inseparable his martial energy and flesh became—fusing into one.
After over an hour, his body convulsed in a wave of expansion and contraction. Steam poured from every pore as Zhang Yu exhaled a faint, satisfied smile.
The 10th Technique of Tu Mu Holy Body had finally reached level 20.
Ultimate - Tu Mu Holy Body (10/10):
The more severe the injury, the closer to death, the stronger the initial and advanced effects of Tu Mu Holy Body become. Work each day as if it were your final one.
Zhang Yu’s eyes narrowed as he studied the final effect of the first layer.
So… the more damaged I am, the stronger the first two layers become.
What were those two layers?
He glanced briefly at the Chain Law Diagram.
Junior Junior
Immense resistance to earthquakes, dust, poison, noise, pressure, cancer, radiation, pollution, extreme heat, extreme cold, impact, chopping, piercing, and hunger.
Superior (Advanced):
Drastically reduced lifespan consumption from cultivation, eating, and taking pills during the Foundation Establishment Stage.
Zhang Yu mused: So the more broken I am, the stronger I become. The more I decay, the less I lose of my lifespan. That means… the closer I get to death, the stronger my defense, the lower the cost to my life. I become harder to kill… the more I die.
The faster I die… the more I survive?
He pondered the implications of the final layer of Tu Mu Holy Body—especially how it could benefit him.
Then, he deliberately paused the Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique, halting the body’s accelerated regeneration.
With steady steps, he returned to the construction site and resumed work.
But this time, whenever he used Zhanmo Yunshou Gong or Wuji Zhen Chan, he no longer allowed his body to heal itself.
Not just during labor—during meals, too, he suppressed the instinct to regenerate.
The result was visible: Zhang Yu grew visibly weaker. His muscles sagged, his blood flow slowed, his stamina drained. Within days, streaks of gray appeared in his temples.
Yet paradoxically, under the influence of Tu Mu Holy Body, his body’s resistance to external threats—heat, toxins, radiation, physical damage—grew stronger with each passing day.
And every time he practiced techniques, ate, or took pills, the lifespan cost dropped—steadily, imperceptibly.
One day, Zhang Yu grabbed a large handful of Damage-Life Tianji Powder, mixed it with Rieyuan Baoxue Pills, stirred them violently, and swallowed the mixture in one breath.
Through days of relentless consumption—combined with the power of Tu Mu Holy Body—he’d begun to sense the toll each substance took on his life.
After ingestion, the medicinal energy surged through his body. His blood and martial energy roared like a storm. The breathing and refinement techniques accelerated.
But amid the chaos, he could feel something subtle being consumed—something deep within his flesh. A dwindling reserve. His life force.
Days passed.
Now, Zhang Yu’s forehead was darkened, his body a battlefield of wounds and scars. His tissues were frayed, his vitality nearly spent.
Yet when he took another dose of a life-draining drug, the cost was negligible.
Zhanmo Yunshou Gong and Wuji Zhen Chan—once brutal on his body—now barely scratched him.
In that moment, he realized the truth:
As his body deteriorated, Tu Mu Holy Body’s resistance grew. A perfect balance emerged between destruction and defense.
Feeling that equilibrium, Zhang Yu increased his dosage daily—seizing this rare, free-for-all opportunity to push himself to the limit.
Previously, with University Holy Body and body activation, he could endure a decent amount of life-draining substances with minimal cost.
Now, under Tu Mu Holy Body, he could consume vast quantities—almost without cost.
To others, however, Zhang Yu’s condition was terrifying.
Fujie pleaded: “No, Zhang Yu! Stop! If you keep this up, you’ll go from Foundation Establishment straight to junior college—enroll at Fengdu Junior College, become Zhao Tianxing’s classmate, and start soul cultivation!”
Watching Zhang Yu devour pills like a man possessed, Fujie was furious. “What new tech are these pharmaceutical companies developing? What are they putting in these pills?”
---
Inside the dorm room, Che Yufei stared at Zhang Yu’s pale face, finally unable to hold back.
“How much do you earn per day?”
“Around 0.13 or more,” Zhang Yu replied casually.
Che Yufei frowned. “Wait—0.13 Lingbi? Why are you risking your life like this?”
He’d been checking on Zhang Yu every night, fearing the day he’d come back and find his colleague had vanished—transformed from coworker to raw material.
“I’m not doing this for money,” Zhang Yu said softly. “I’m just taking advantage of this rare self-service opportunity. Rewarding myself.”
Che Yufei was stunned.
He’d seen countless scholars go mad on the immortal path—obsessed, fanatical. But Zhang Yu’s level of devotion… it left a deep mark.
He touched his own white hair, then spoke with quiet urgency: “Lifespan isn’t currency you can spend freely. This is suicide.”
“You haven’t even started aging yet. Look at you—wasted, weak, on the verge of collapse.”
“Now look at me.”
He gestured to his white hair, white beard. “The doctor said I’ve got at least ten years left. I’ll graduate from university.”
“And among all the senior students in the Civil Engineering Department, I’m the most aged. Do you know what that means?”
“It means I’ve maximized my lifespan efficiency. I’ve lived to graduate, while pushing myself to the absolute limit—true cultivation through discipline.”
“And my secret?”
“Two rules: moderation and consistency.”
“One massage per day. No more than one lifespan-damaging pill per day. No overtime exceeding 24 hours.”
“Stick to these three, and you can survive university—while turning your lifespan into cultivation power. Then, once you graduate, just work, earn money, and buy more lifespan.”
Che Yufei truly didn’t want Zhang Yu to die.
The Civil Engineering Department didn’t have many students like him—raw, capable, driven. Losing one meant more work for the rest.
Zhang Yu thanked him sincerely.
Then, he ordered two more doses.
Che Yufei watched, head shaking, muttering to himself: “This guy… he must be in deep debt.”
(End of Chapter)
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