Chapter 342: A Zhen's Future, the End of Term Approaches, and the Choice of a Mentor

Facing Le Mulan’s urgent determination to make the most of her time, Zhang Yu gave a nod of approval.

After all, college students—especially those at Wanfa University—were indeed pressed for time, and every second counted.

He raised his palm and pressed it against the back of Le Mulan’s body. A chilling wave of martial energy surged into her, cold and sharp as winter’s breath.

Since both their energies originated from the same Deep Cold Mana Vein, Le Mulan found it easier than ever to absorb Zhang Yu’s cultivation force.

Yet the combined coldness of their energies built up rapidly, causing Le Mulan’s face to visibly flush with a deep, first-layer purplish hue.

Zhang Yu realized at once: if this continued, the training would end far too soon.

To push on would only result in severe frostbite. The medical costs, followed by long recovery—such a setback would be catastrophic for her cultivation progress.

And Zhang Yu, who still hoped to see Le Mulan unlock the second level of her Deep Cold Mana Vein, couldn’t allow such a tragedy.

Feeling her body temperature plummeting at an alarming rate, Zhang Yu had no choice but to draw on his Blood Qi. He shifted his palm, now radiating intense heat, and pressed it against the other side of her back.

“Zhang Yu, you’re not just touching my back—my whole body’s freezing,” Le Mulan shivered, her teeth chattering as she leaned into him.

Sensing her trembling form, Zhang Yu adjusted his posture, trying to maximize warmth transfer.

In that moment, he felt as though he were holding a delicate bundle of icy silk—cool, smooth, and strangely fragile.

Suddenly, he frowned. “Stop wriggling. Stop rubbing against me. Or I’m not touching you at all.”

Le Mulan froze instantly, her waist still. She nodded stiffly, lips trembling with cold. “Mm-hmm.”

Outside the dormitory, Xuan Ge stood silently, listening.

In his memory, Le Mulan was always aloof—distant, indifferent to everyone around her. Her personality had always been described as solitary.

Especially after becoming the Foundation Establishment Elder, her classmates’ attitudes toward her had shifted drastically. Even low-level cultivation juniors began eyeing her for mutual cultivation.

She responded by becoming colder still, often treating her peers like invisible air—ignoring them as if they were mere insects.

But now, eavesdropping from outside, Xuan Ge felt he’d discovered a new side of Le Mulan.

“Mutual cultivation really does transform people,” he murmured, half in awe. “Le Mulan’s developed two faces.”

…

Over the next few days, Zhang Yu continued his repeated attempts at the Lingrou Heyi Zhi Lu.

That day, as he opened his eyes within the Ling realm, he remembered once again who he truly was.

Zhang Yu had been raised in a lab—raised as an experimental subject.

From childhood, he practiced the Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique, not for spiritual growth, but to increase his endurance, so the lab could gather more data.

But on the very first day of his official duties, the lab staff never came.

Instead, a group of unfamiliar figures in uniforms arrived—wearing regulation suits—opened the cages, and freed all the test subjects.

“The lab was shut down for illegally allowing underage test subjects to cultivate Dao. All responsible personnel have been arrested.”

“Your future will be determined by your cultivation level…”

Because his cultivation was too weak, Zhang Yu was granted protection under the Commoner Protection Law and released.

With no knowledge of the world, he wandered aimlessly through society, penniless—his only possession the Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique etched into his mind.

Stealing, scavenging for food, working black jobs—each time, he ran through the heart technique.

Eventually, he achieved the ability to maintain the technique even during sleep. He could endure freezing cold and pain without flinching, and finally, he could sleep in peace.

Then—everything stopped.

Zhang Yu looked up, stunned. Two figures, radiating overwhelming Divine Power, approached him.

“High-Intelligence Artificial Spirit has reached Ling Rou He Yi. The breakthrough seems inevitable. Now we just await formal material-world testing.”

“Retrieve it. Don’t let it escape into the Ling Network.”

“As for the material-world test… Well, the cost of high-intelligence artificial spirits won’t go down. Talking about it is pointless.”

“They’re just too expensive. Compared to soul cultivators, they’re far more efficient. Much better than spirit tools.”

…

Zhang Yu removed his Spiritual Interface Mask, muttering to himself:

“This time felt… like a high-level spirit tool breaking through.”

“Why does it feel so much easier for a High-Intelligence Artificial Spirit to breakthrough than for a human?”

He shook his head, trying to grasp the lingering sensation in his mind.

That night, just like every other, Zhang Yu initiated a communication with Bai Zhenzhen.

“Yu-zi,” Bai Zhenzhen grinned at him through the projection. “I’ve got great news—next semester, I’m coming to Wanfa University!”

Zhang Yu’s eyes lit up. “Really? You’re actually coming?”

“Yeah,” she said. “I’m entering the University Flying Sword Competition.”

“The competition’s being held right here at Wanfa University this year.”

Her holographic image stepped closer, leaning against the screen with a radiant smile.

“Then we’ll finally get to see each other again, mother and son.”

With a happy heart, she ended the call.

The anticipation for the Flying Sword Competition grew stronger by the second.

…

The next day, Zhang Yu logged back into Chui Xin Ju.

Opening his eyes, he saw a crowd of cultivation disciples in long robes and sleeves—each one a low-level cultivator.

He realized he was leading them in a protest for wages.

Zhang Yu withdrew a small box from his sleeve, opened it, and revealed a few golden pills within.

“After the Shenxiao Sect split during the sect war, its military weapons scattered across the lands. These are among them—the Taiyi Hengtian Lei.”

“Those Wanfa Sect officials piled on endless demands. Only this heavenly thunder can give us back our pride. Only it can blow open the bitterness we’ve swallowed for so long.”

“Everyone, chip in. I’ll handle sourcing. Give me enough Spirit Stones, and we’ll buy any Spirit Artifact we want!”

Under Zhang Yu’s persuasion, various Spirit Artifacts and Flying Swords—leftover from military stockpiles—were distributed among the group.

One Taiyi Hengtian Lei detonated in the official residence, killing the Dao official. The battle erupted instantly.

Zhang Yu fell in the first wave.

After a long silence, he broke the fake-death state, opened his eyes, and quietly slipped away from the battlefield.

He reported to his superior: “Mission complete. Where’s the next job?”

Zhang Yu was a weapons dealer—moving between sect territories, selling weapons wherever war or rebellion flared.

When no conflict arose, he’d use his skills to provoke unrest, then sell off military techniques, Spirit Artifacts, and Flying Swords with abandon.

His motto: What the enemy opposes, we support. What the enemy supports, we take a 30% cut.

In an era before the Network was born and the Zheng Shen System was weak, his business thrived.

Wars and uprisings were everywhere.

But Zhang Yu knew the truth: all war, all rebellion—was orchestrated by the gods themselves.

When the immortal beings finally called for peace, the Military-Grade Power regulations were enacted.

Zhang Yu’s trade became harder, his life far more dangerous.

And in the quiet moments between fear and sleep, he unknowingly pushed his cultivation to the Ling Rou He Yi stage.

…

Removing his Spiritual Interface Mask, Zhang Yu replayed the memories of storming the sect officials’ halls.

The heart technique in his mind surged with intensity.

“Feels like another step forward.”

Recalling the simulation, he sighed:

“The gods don’t care about uprisings. They don’t care about resistance.”

“Even rebellion—was created by them. The data from war? It’s just another product to be sold.”

For days, Zhang Yu continued his Lingrou Heyi Zhi Lu.

Each time he ended, he felt progress—his mental image of the white cow grew more vivid, as if it might come alive at any moment.

He was drawing closer to Ling Rou He Yi… but still, just a hair’s breadth away.

Just… that close.

…

Time flew. It was now August.

Less than a month remained until the final exams.

That day, a Zheng Shen suddenly contacted Zhang Yu, asking if he’d chosen his mentor yet.

The deadline for the academic year’s final decision was approaching.

Zhang Yu had been prepared.

After winning the First Layer High School Foundation Establishment Exam, he’d earned the right to select a mentor at the university.

A university mentor determined one’s faction affiliation—shaping the path through undergraduate, master’s, and doctoral studies.

Zhang Yu was being careful—especially since he planned to transfer into the Alchemy Department.

This choice was crucial.

He’d consulted Zhang Pianpian.

“You’re aiming to transfer into Alchemy Department by third year?” she said. “Then the stronger the mentor, the better.”

“Even though Alchemy and Civil Engineering departments have decent relations, to transfer smoothly after ranking in the top 20 of your year, a powerful mentor can save you countless headaches.”

“But the stronger the mentor, the higher the demands. Alchemy is a top-tier program—its masters expect excellence.”

“And you’re transferring from Civil Engineering—so even if they formally accept you, they might not treat you kindly.”

“The worst-case scenario? You pick a mentor who refuses to guide you. If they don’t teach you, being officially listed as their student means nothing. You’ve lost the real chance to learn.”

“My advice? Take it slow. Wait until after your Civil Engineering graduation. Transfer during the Postgraduate Entrance Exam—it’ll be far more likely to succeed.”

Zhang Yu knew she was right.

From a success rate standpoint, postgraduate transfer was the safest path.

But under the pressure of the Evil God Ritual, he had no time.

He needed to enter one of the Top Ten Sects—before the channels closed for good.

He needed to move faster.

He had to transfer to Alchemy Department as soon as possible.

He had to take the postgraduate entrance exam early.

He had to find the way into the Top Ten Sects—now.

So, despite Zhang Pianpian’s advice, Zhang Yu insisted.

With her help, they gathered intelligence and ultimately decided on Ciji Zhenjun—Deputy Director of the Alchemy Department, currently at Foundation Establishment cultivation stage.

One of the most promising figures in the Alchemy Department—someone who could easily become its next head.

With his support, Zhang Yu’s transfer would be guaranteed—assuming his grades were strong.

But such a high-ranking figure wouldn’t care about a Civil Engineering student like Zhang Yu.

If Zhang Yu were directly assigned through the Zheng Shen system, Ciji Zhenjun might simply ignore him—making the mentorship meaningless.

But Zhang Yu had a friend.

A message appeared in his Eye Armor.

Deng Bingding: Zhang Yu, long time no see.

Through the merits earned in the First Layer, Deng Bingding had advanced to the Second Layer and secured a new position at Wanfa University.

After settling in, he’d stayed quiet—observing, listening, gathering intel. Over time, he confirmed a few suspicions.

“Zhang Pianpian’s behind-the-scenes connection might be a top-tier figure in the Department of the Common People.”

“Zhang Yu is clearly part of that faction—hence the mission to dismantle Youming Palace’s operations in the First Layer.”

“These two are worth helping.”

With Deng Bingding’s assistance, Zhang Yu managed to add Ciji Zhenjun as a friend on the Ling Network—before officially selecting a mentor.

Zhang Yu: Teacher, did Deng Youshen inform you about my situation?

Zhang Yu: I want to transfer into Alchemy Department in third year. I’d like to formally become your disciple.

He waited. And waited.

Just as he began to think the reply would never come, Ciji Zhenjun finally responded with a single “Hmm.”

Then silence.

After a long pause, Zhang Yu, guided by Fujie’s advice, reluctantly sent a 0.1 Lingbi red packet.

It was instantly accepted.

Ciji Zhenjun’s reply followed:

I don’t recommend this.

Zhang Yu sighed. He called on Deng Bingding again.

The Zheng Shen pulled both into a group chat.

Deng Bingding: I have a proposal.

He then laid out the plan Zhang Yu had discussed with him.

Deng Bingding: I know the transfer standards to Alchemy Department are strict. I know your expectations are higher.

Deng Bingding: But Zhang Yu does have real talent.

Deng Bingding: How about this? After the mentor is assigned, you don’t announce it publicly. No one knows he’s your student.

Deng Bingding: You only offer him minimal guidance.

Deng Bingding: If by third year he’s close enough to meet your standards—then he’s your disciple.

Deng Bingding: If not? Then it never happened.

Another long silence.

Deng Bingding tapped Zhang Yu’s name in the group.

Zhang Yu, defeated, sent another 0.1 Lingbi red packet.

Ciji Zhenjun: Interesting.

Ciji Zhenjun: If by third year, you not only rank in the top 20 of Civil Engineering, but also complete all three years of Alchemy Department courses—and pass their final exam—then I’ll accept you as my student.

Zhang Yu’s eyes sparkled.

Now there was a goal. A standard.

That made it possible.

With Deng Bingding’s help, Ciji Zhenjun was officially designated as Zhang Yu’s mentor.

But Zhang Yu had never met him in person.

To everyone else in the university, the arrangement remained a secret.

After the matter was settled, Zhang Yu thanked Deng Bingding.

Deng Bingding refused the red packet, smiling.

“For me? Just a few words. No trouble at all.”

“Zhang Yu, keep pushing forward.

I believe you’ll make it into Alchemy Department.

And one day, you’ll stand before Ciji Zhenjun as his true disciple.”

With his mentor secured—though unseen—Zhang Yu returned to his daily grind: studying, cultivating, and working.

As time passed, the final exams drew ever closer.

And finally, Zhang Yu’s Qi Mai Chang Liu reached the end of its First Layer.

Yu Xinghan’s Third Eye Ability advanced to Level 2.

The threshold of Ling Rou He Yi hovered before him—unveiling new mysteries of the Cannibal Cow Serenity Heart Technique.

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end