Chapter 337: Competition Team
Hearing Zhang Yu’s question, Zhang Pianpian blinked slightly. “Who in this world isn’t short on Lingbi?” she said with a faint smile. “I am gathering some funds—still a bit short, but I should have it all together soon enough.”
Hearing her reply, Zhang Yu silently mused: Could it really just be fifty Lingbi?
But he wasn’t sure whether the fifty Lingbi reflected in the Dao Seed had anything to do with Zhang Pianpian’s fund-raising. Unable to confirm, he couldn’t bring it up—so he tucked the doubt away for now.
At the same time, he felt his own Lingbi dwindling faster than ever.
“Ah… right, Ling Rou He Yi. I guess I’ll just try handling this myself first. If I can’t make it work, then I’ll spend.”
For the next few days, Zhang Yu and his four companions carried on as usual—studying, cultivating, working—acting as if nothing had happened.
That day, Zhang Yu resumed his cultivation practice in the cemetery as he always did, practicing his Breath Technique.
After days of grueling effort, he had completed the seventh form of Qi Mai Chang Liu’s Breath Technique and was now advancing into the eighth: Yin Ling Cui Ti Shu.
His Martial Energy flowed steadily through his meridians, thick Spirit Energy coursing through his body, constantly seeping out to quietly refine his muscles and tendons.
During his time cultivating in the cemetery, he’d spent more hours meditating than ever before. To avoid falling behind in Body Refinement, he’d deliberately chosen a Breath Technique that could simultaneously strengthen his physique—ensuring his cultivation wouldn’t lag too far behind.
But even as he practiced the seventh and eighth forms, he sensed a noticeable drop in his cultivation efficiency.
And this slowdown wasn’t due to external factors or his own mental state—it was simply because the Breath Techniques themselves were growing increasingly complex.
“Still, there’s nothing I can do about it,” Zhang Yu reflected. “Qi Mai Chang Liu consists of only a dozen or so forms. The easiest ones are already behind me. The rest are all intricate—each full cycle takes significant time to complete.”
“So even for me,” he thought, “it’ll probably take half a month… maybe even a full month… just to raise one technique to Level 20.”
He knew that if someone heard his thoughts, they’d probably slap him senseless.
But for someone who’d grown used to rapid technique level-ups, a full month to reach Level 20 felt painfully slow.
After a long while, Zhang Yu felt the effects of the last medicinal pill fade. He slowly closed his cultivation session, then took a moment to check the messages piled up in his Eye Armor.
First, he replied to a group chat about pill pooling in the dormitory. Then he glanced through a few class group announcements. Scrolling through the rest, he found a chaotic mix of messages.
There was an Alchemy Department group—Ye Xingli had added him—where two factions were arguing over which brand of leg tendon Spirit Armor was better: Jin Gang Xuan Zao or Tian Gong.
Then came news from the Songyang hometown group: a student from the Water Province Demon Blood Vocational Academy had nearly died of cardiac arrest after refusing medicine for weeks, surviving only on sleepless cramming. Now he was begging for help in the group to buy an Energy Capsule so he could keep burning the midnight oil.
Jinguang University’s Chu Qiuhé: No borrowing in the group. One warning. Second offense—banned.
Tianyao University’s Xiong Wenwu: We’re all from the same hometown. He just wants to borrow money to stay awake. Can’t be so strict, can we?
Chu Qiuhé: Then go sleep.
Another Demon Blood student: You want him to sleep in college? What’s the difference from killing him? He’s a university student—just wants to study. What’s wrong with that?
Chu Qiuhé: Could be a scam. If he can’t afford to stay up, what’s the point of cultivating at all?
Zhang Yu skimmed the argument, then turned his attention to other unread messages.
That’s when he noticed a message from Cong Na in the competition team group.
Cong Na: Everyone else has agreed. I’m sending you the competition materials. Also, I’ve added you to the group.
Zhang Yu accepted the files first, glanced through them briefly, then approved the group invitation.
Zhang Yu: Hello everyone. New here—please look after me, senior classmates.
Cong Na: Welcome!
Ma Xuan: Welcome aboard.
Zhang Yu had greeted them, but aside from Cong Na and Ma Xuan, no one else replied. Their conversation quickly got buried under a flood of messages from three other members who were deeply engrossed in a heated discussion about Dao Arts—lines of text flying across the chat window faster than anyone could keep up.
Zhang Yu glanced at the profiles of the other five members.
Besides Cong Na, whose only displayed rank was Class Rank 5, the rest showed both their Class Rank and Department Rank.
Ma Xuan was ranked 35th in the entire department. The other three were all in the 40s and 50s.
Together, the six of them made up the full competition team.
He checked their years—none of them higher than fifth-year.
Zhang Yu realized: to reach the top 50 in the department at this stage, these were clearly elite students from the Civil Engineering Department.
“Makes sense no one’s paying attention to me,” he thought. “High-ranking students casually mocking lower-ranked ones is normal. Ignoring them entirely? That’s actually quite polite.”
Just then, a student named Bu Ziran posted a short video.
The clip showed a brand-new Feizang Fa Hai, freshly unboxed.
Bu Ziran: Newest model from Wandao Jiangzong—lung Spirit Armor. Just breathing builds and refines Fei Jin Jian Qi.
Bu Ziran: Subscribe to Wandao Jiangzong’s monthly service and unlock 23 different sword qi variations.
Bu Ziran: Only 18.88 Lingbi.
Zhang Yu stared at the price, about to mutter “That’s expensive,” when another student, Yang Yan, replied: “That’s cheap. You got a discount?”
Bu Ziran: My uncle works at Wandao Jiangzong. This is an internal price.
As the group erupted into discussions about Spirit Armors, medicines, Dao Arts, and Spirit Artifacts, Zhang Yu couldn’t help but think of the flour bricks he’d fought desperately to secure just days ago.
He felt increasingly out of place—unable to join the conversation, let alone contribute.
And seeing these fourth- and fifth-year geniuses, all of whom were still below the top 20 in the department, Zhang Yu let out a quiet sigh.
Xinghuo Immortal… that old coot… he told me to switch to Alchemy Department after entering Civil Engineering. Does he even know how hard it is to transfer at university now?
To climb to the top 20 in the department by the end of third year… impossible.
He knew that to surpass upperclassmen in Comprehensive Score at such a young age, one had to take advanced courses early—something requiring not only insane talent, but also massive amounts of money.
And then there was Ji Yuanchi from his class—another prodigy aiming for a transfer.
Over time, Zhang Yu had begun to grasp the typical cultivation plan of these transfer prodigies:
- First and second years: Focus on building foundations, pushing base stats to the peak of Foundation Establishment.
- Third year: Begin accelerated learning via Ling Realm, completing a large portion of upper-level departmental courses early and passing exams.
- Final year: Accumulate massive Comprehensive Score to push their rank into the top 50—enough to qualify for transfer.
And transferring from Civil Engineering to Alchemy? Even stricter. You’d need to be in the top 20.
Zhang Yu thought: That old man probably hasn’t been in a university for decades.
And my sister thinks… even if I can’t make it, I can always switch during the postgraduate entrance exam.
But…
His eyes narrowed. A firm resolve hardened in his heart.
“I’m going to enter the Top Ten Sects. I have to act fast—before the entry window closes.”
And the Top Ten Sects don’t accept students from Civil Engineering Department.
“I have to join Alchemy Department earlier. Start cultivating Alchemy content as soon as possible.”
Postgraduate transfer? Too slow. Too late.
Looking at Ma Xuan’s ranking, Zhang Yu felt the familiar pressure surge again. He immediately returned to cultivation—determined to make every second count.
But the effects of his last pill had worn off. His cultivation efficiency had dropped sharply.
So, while waiting for the next dose, he decided to try Ling Rou He Yi—one more time.
As Feng Jiu from Dao Heart Class had said:
The basic level of technique cultivation is sustained operation for 24 hours.
Beyond that is Ban Ben Neng—where the technique runs even when you’re not consciously aware.
And above that lies Wanquan Ben Neng—the true state of Ling Rou He Yi, where the technique continues automatically, even in unconsciousness, like breathing.
Zhang Yu closed his eyes, focusing on the rhythm of his inner technique.
He recalled the moment in the First Layer, when the building collapsed and he was buried—when he’d slipped into a death-like state.
Back then, to the outside world, I was completely unconscious. But inside, I still clung to one last spark of will to survive.
I didn’t think. I didn’t plan. I just felt myself in a vast, dark realm of consciousness, pouring every ounce of bodily vitality into keeping my flesh alive.
That state—where the mind holds on to a single thread of clarity—was roughly Ban Ben Neng.
But Ling Rou He Yi? It’s when even if you truly lose consciousness, the technique still runs—like breathing, like heartbeat.
He attempted to trigger Chunqiu Wujin Chan’s death-like state, erasing all thoughts from his mind.
But no matter how hard he tried, a single thought always remained—his final thread of awareness.
“This is harder than I thought,” he thought, frustrated. “Maintaining the technique even after losing consciousness… this isn’t human.”
For the following days, Zhang Yu made Ling Rou He Yi his daily pursuit—whenever he had a spare moment, he’d try again.
Though he hadn’t succeeded yet, he could feel his technique running slightly smoother.
And each time, the moment when his mind held only that last flicker of thought came faster and faster.
As time passed, it was already early June.
Over a month had passed since Zhang Yu’s first visit to the cemetery project.
Thanks to Wang Zong’s initial support—and later, his daily Hulang Zhi Yao and the cemetery’s unique cultivation environment—Zhang Yu’s Martial Energy had surged to 661.3, and his Martial Energy Quality had climbed to 168%, though the growth rate had slowed.
His Dao Heart, constantly active, had steadily advanced to Level 14 (64.8%).
His Physical Strength Level, however, had only reached 15.18, due to the lack of physical training during this intense cultivation phase.
Meanwhile, his Gāngqì Conduction Rate and maximum conduction distance had both climbed steadily, reaching 42% and 44 meters.
That day, Ma Xuan reached out again—inviting Zhang Yu to join the competition team’s training session.
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
