https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-366-Bai-Zhenzhen-s-Dao-Seed-Please-Vote-for-Me-/13686947/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-368-Bai-Zhenzhen-the-One-Everyone-Admires-Request-for-Monthly-Votes-/13686949/
Chapter 367: Money Brings Emotion
After obtaining Bai Zhenzhen’s Divine Spirit Root, Zhang Yu devoted himself tirelessly to cultivating it using the 20th-Level Technique, nourishing the sacred root nestled within his dantian. As he did so, his body gradually underwent a profound transformation—its strength, resilience, and vitality all enhanced by the root’s essence.
This enhancement stemmed directly from Bai Zhenzhen’s cultivation lineage—the Divine Spirit Root had long adapted to her body, and now, through Zhang Yu, its refined energy was being transmitted back into her system. As the effects rippled through him, Zhang Yu felt a noticeable surge in his reaction speed, mental clarity, martial energy flow, and Gang Qi control.
Yet deep in his heart, he knew: “The Divine Spirit Root has only stayed inside me for too short a time. The gains are minimal—insignificant.”
“To truly unlock its full potential, I still need a Replication Dao Seed. That way, even after A Zhen leaves Wanfa University, I can continue using the Qinglian Jiantai for an extended period.”
Back in high school, though Zhang Yu had always known the value of the Spirit Root, he’d never entertained any real desire. After all, he’d understood it was fundamentally Bai Zhenzhen’s—something he’d never claim. Once he completed Foundation Establishment, his focus would naturally shift to cultivating his own root.
Especially after Bai Zhenzhen was taken as a disciple by the Qingqing God, such thoughts had vanished entirely.
But now—everything had changed.
First, he had unlocked the Dao Zong Spectrum, granting him the ability to replicate Bai Zhenzhen’s Qinglian Jiantai. Second, the Divine Spirit Root had proven its worth—so powerful that it could suppress his Qi Hai Linggen and even replace it.
With a firm resolve, Zhang Yu made his decision.
“I must act quickly—before A Zhen departs Wanfa University. I must succeed in replicating the Dao Seed.”
“Otherwise, the next time we meet… who knows how long I’ll have to wait.”
To achieve this, Zhang Yu needed more than just his own cultivation. He had to complete 300 hours of continuous nurturing using the 20th-Level Technique. But the most critical part? Ensuring that each time, he returned the Divine Spirit Root to Bai Zhenzhen—quietly, secretly, and without detection.
“No one must find out.”
With that thought, Zhang Yu intensified his efforts, pressing the Spirit Root deep into Bai Zhenzhen’s dantian.
“Mmm…” Bai Zhenzhen instinctively closed her eyes, a soft, drawn-out sigh escaping her nose.
For a moment, she felt a wave of tingling warmth flood her entire body—from head to toe. The strength the root had gained from adapting within Zhang Yu’s body was now returning to her, slowly but steadily enhancing her physical resilience. Her stamina, bone density, and overall resistance were all improving at a barely perceptible pace.
But the root had not stayed in Zhang Yu’s body long enough to deliver the same intensity of stimulation it had experienced there. The effects on Bai Zhenzhen were far milder than what she’d felt when it was inside him.
After a few moments, she exhaled, still slightly uneasy—but no longer hindered.
Zhang Yu said, “Hurry up and go back, A Zhen. Don’t let anyone see you.”
Bai Zhenzhen nodded. “Then I’ll go first.”
With a flicker of motion, her form vanished completely from sight.
Zhang Yu thought to himself: “A Zhen’s stealth ability is growing stronger with each use of the Divine Spirit Root.”
But after acquiring the root, Zhang Yu had been too focused on nurturing it to study its other abilities in depth.
“Right now, the priority is Replication Dao Seed. As for the root’s other powers—there will be time enough to explore them later.”
Just as Zhang Yu was sneaking away from the 66th floor, Fujie’s voice chimed in:
“Zhang Yu, find a time to perform a Ritual on Bai Zhenzhen.”
“Boost her potential. And install the new Monitoring Ritual and Anti-Monitoring Ritual on her.”
Zhang Yu nodded. “Got it.”
…
Outside the guest room of the Tianjian Team.
A young man frowned, his eyes clouded with confusion.
“Where’s Bai Zhenzhen?”
His name was Wen Wuya—a top-tier member of Tianjian University’s team, hailing from Kunxu’s 10th Layer. He’d come to meet Bai Zhenzhen before heading to the arena, only to find her room empty. When he tried contacting her, she’d merely replied with “Coming soon.”
He sent multiple messages, each met with silence.
He sighed inwardly. “Does she still not trust me?”
He remembered the first time he’d seen Bai Zhenzhen—over a year and a half ago. The sight of her Divine Spirit Root, her status as a disciple of the Cultivation Immortal, had captivated him. Even more, it had stirred something deep within his own dantian.
At that moment, he’d been ready to pour money into her—every Lingbi he had, and more. He’d planned to send 30 Lingbi first, then 1 Lingbi for every message he sent.
But the Qingqing God had stopped him.
A pact was made: Wen Wuya could only earn the chance for Mutual Cultivation if he built a deep emotional bond with Bai Zhenzhen—without spending money.
“Build a deep emotional bond?”
“But without money… how can there even be emotion?”
Wen Wuya couldn’t understand. In his world, money created emotion. The more you spent, the deeper the connection.
“Didn’t Jiqing Sword Dao always forge bonds through lavish spending?”
“No money? No emotion? So I’m supposed to cancel my transfers? Take back gifts?”
“That’s not love—it’s fraud.”
In Wen Wuya’s belief, a teacher who wouldn’t invest in their disciple wasn’t a good one. A disciple who didn’t bring profit to their master wasn’t worthy. As for families—those with strong bonds were forged the moment a child was born, tied by lifelong debt and obligation.
“Emotion is money,” he thought. “How can I build it without spending?”
Unable to grasp the concept, he followed the Qingqing God’s guidance and began studying ancient texts and records on poverty and relationships. What he learned shocked him.
“In ancient Kunxu, Immortal Dao technology was underdeveloped. The economy was weak, currency circulation poor. So people relied on low-cost, non-monetary methods to strengthen bonds.”
“And even today, many poor people still use these outdated methods to maintain relationships.”
Wen Wuya stared at the pages, stunned.
“Back then, Kunxu was barbaric—lacking financial tools, rife with distrust. That’s why so many tried to get something for nothing. Scams were everywhere.”
“Now, the poor still cling to those old tricks—instead of working to earn.”
Though he still didn’t understand why the Qingqing God demanded this, Wen Wuya followed the ancient methods anyway.
He started with simple gestures: greeting her daily, asking what she’d eaten, exchanging small talk. He made sure to spend time in the same space at the same hours. He praised her—her Divine Spirit Root’s strength, her wealthy teacher, her expensive hair, her high loan limit…
He studied every tactic, every phrase, every manipulative trick from the old texts.
But after a full year and a half, nothing changed.
Bai Zhenzhen’s replies were always under five words. No messages. No gifts. No physical proximity—she never came within two meters of him.
No matter how hard he tried, no bond formed.
“Of course,” he thought bitterly. “These old, poor man’s tricks… they’ll never work on someone like Bai Zhenzhen, a disciple of the Hua Shen.”
Just as despair settled in, a familiar figure appeared ahead—Bai Zhenzhen.
“Zhenzhen, you’re back?” Wen Wuya cleared his mind, forcing a perfect smile. “Where were you? I looked everywhere—I was so worried.”
Bai Zhenzhen looked at him, and a strange unease stirred in her chest.
She sensed in him the same cold, unnatural aura as Wang Yin—and even stronger. Each time he tried to be kind, it made her skin crawl.
But there was one difference.
“At least this guy hasn’t sent me even one Lingbi.”
“Just wandering around,” she said casually. “Warm-up.”
Suddenly, her brow furrowed. Her right hand instinctively clutched her lower abdomen.
The Divine Spirit Root had given an unexpected jolt—its unfamiliar pulse again tugged at her dantian and meridians, sending a sharp stab of pain through her.
Wen Wuya noticed. “Zhenzhen, are you okay? Did you hurt yourself?”
“No,” she said, still holding her stomach. “Just bumped into something during my warm-up.”
“Should I get you painkillers?”
“No need. It’ll pass.”
“Let’s go. The match is starting.”
…
On the 667th Floor construction site.
Yu Xinghan noticed Zhang Yu had quietly returned.
Seeing the calm, refreshed look on Zhang Yu’s face after returning the Divine Spirit Root, Yu Xinghan felt a familiar flicker of understanding.
Then, a slow smile curled his lips.
“Ah… so that’s where he went. Just went to unwind.”
At that moment, the first match of the Flying Sword Tournament officially began—drawing the attention of everyone on the site, including Yu Xinghan.
Yu Xinghan, Ying Xin, and Zhang Yu continued working at the construction site, watching the live broadcast through their Spirit Armor.
The first match wasn’t held within Wanfa University City. Instead, it took place high above the clouds—tens of thousands of meters in the sky.
Each team’s participants stood on floating platforms, buffeted by violent winds, tasked with wielding their swords to hit a target eighty kilometers away.
Ying Xin sighed. “Only the wealthy could afford a Flying Sword capable of hitting targets at 80 kilometers.”
Zhang Yu knew the Tianjian Sect had stationed eighty-four thousand Heaven-Scanning Flying Swords across the Second Layer, building a spiritual network that spanned the entire region—enabling long-range, precision strikes.
But how did the other sects manage it?
(End of Chapter)
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