Chapter 4: Summoning the Spirit
Watching the change unfolding on his palm, Zhang Yu couldn’t help but wonder: What does this mean?
Will I die once it’s completely filled?
But no one could answer the unease swirling in his mind.
After finishing morning PE class, Zhang Yu dragged his half-dead body through lunch with Bai Zhenzhen and Zhou Tianyi, then took a brief rest before diving into the afternoon’s classes.
The first lesson of the afternoon was history, taught by an elderly man with a head full of white hair. He entered the classroom, sat down behind the lectern without ceremony, and began reading from his book, droning on in a careless, indifferent tone. The students below paid him no mind—some napped, others practiced breath control or cultivation, and a few even left to train their bodies. The old teacher seemed utterly unaware.
Zhang Yu had no interest in the lecture either. He flipped through the textbook rapidly, mentally cross-referencing its content with his own memories.
In Kunxu, there are no nations—everything is monopolized by the Ten Great Sects. Kunxu has thirty-six layers above the ground. The first layer is roughly the size of two China-sized territories, composed of cities of all sizes, each managed by a city government built by a major sect.
Outside of spiritual matters, the technological level of the first layer seems similar to my previous life, but ordinary people live far harder lives.
The first layer is where Zhang Yu has lived his whole life. As for the layers above… well, he’s only ever seen them on screen.
According to Zhang Yu’s memories, only those who graduate from university can ascend to the second layer of Kunxu. And only after joining a major sect post-graduation could one climb even higher.
In short, in Kunxu, only stronger spiritual power and greater authority could help you rise. The higher the layer, the denser the spiritual energy, the more advanced the spiritual technology, and the more abundant the resources.
As he thought this, Zhang Yu turned toward the window, letting the sunlight pour over him.
Such a real sky… real sunlight… is this really inside some colossal structure?
If the first layer is already the size of two Chinas, how vast must the entire Kunxu be? It must have long since left Earth behind.
And just how did I end up here?
His mind drifted to the moment he first arrived in this world—the eerie ritual, the strange symbols, the sudden dizziness.
Zhang Yu shook his head sharply. Right now, compared to such existential mysteries, things like high school grades, pocket money, making money, and PE class were far more urgent.
But thinking about grades and cultivation brought another wave of pain.
Besides morning PE, spiritual evaluations also included four subjects: Mind Foundation (150 points), Spiritual Power (150 points), Martial Skills (100 points), and Spiritual Arts (100 points).
From Zhang Yu’s recollection, his scores had been declining across the board—no subject was holding steady. If this continued, being expelled from Songyang High School seemed inevitable.
Another thought struck him: Given that Zhang Yu’s family is poor, he has no exceptional spiritual talent, and his interview performance was terrible… how did he even get into Songyang High School in the first place?
He sifted through his memories, recalling only that the original Zhang Yu had entered the school despite a subpar interview result.
Thinking about his family, Zhang Yu’s gaze flickered. He pulled out his phone and opened the contact list.
Right… should I call my parents and sister after school?
The rest of the afternoon passed with Zhang Yu alternating between reviewing his notes and organizing the memories in his mind, deepening his understanding of this world, of his identity, and of the rules that governed it.
By six o’clock, school was officially over. But for most students at Songyang High School, the day had only just begun. After class, they’d rush to private tutoring sessions, then study late into the night.
But unlike the others, Zhang Yu sat alone in the nearly empty cafeteria.
Without any savings or loan capacity, he’d stopped attending tutoring two weeks ago. After finishing dinner, he hesitated, then finally opened his phone.
Let me try.
He called his mother first, then his father—both went unanswered.
Recalling the memories of his parents and sister, he reluctantly dialed his older sister.
“Zhang Yu?”
The voice on the other end was cold, distant.
Zhang Yu swallowed hard. “Sister… can you lend me some money?”
A long silence followed. Just as he feared she’d hang up, she spoke again.
“You were in first grade when I told Mom and Dad you had no spiritual talent. Going down that path was just wasting time and money. After we split, Mom still believed in your delusions and stubbornly tried to support you through high school. Not long ago, she even asked us for a loan—wanted to take money from my tutoring fund.”
Ha. Now you’re trying to borrow again to keep studying. You’ve already piled up debts you can’t possibly repay.
Zhang Yu had nothing to say. The facts were undeniable.
After their parents split, despite knowing their mother’s income was insufficient and the family had no money, the original Zhang Yu had been reckless—borrowing small loans, then more, using debt to sustain his cultivation. Each time, his mother had helped him pay, only to discover the hole growing wider each time. Eventually, she left.
The voice continued.
“This is the last time we speak. You’ll have to repay your own debts.”
One last piece of advice—drop out and get a job to pay them off.
For the sake of our past family ties, I’ll send you 500 yuan now. That’ll be enough to keep you alive long enough to find work.
The line went dead.
Zhang Yu exhaled slowly. At least… I’ll get 500.
Combined with the 500 yuan Bai Zhenzhen had given him earlier, Zhang Yu’s savings finally broke the 1,000-yuan mark.
But as he walked home, the sister’s words echoed in his mind.
Drop out… go work…
Lying back on the moldy bed in his rented room, Zhang Yu stared blankly at the ceiling, cracked and stained with damp.
Failing grades. No money. Crushing debt. A body worn down to the bone.
He had to admit—quitting school and getting a job might actually be the rational choice.
Just then, a sharp pain shot through his palm. The symbol only he could see was now completely filled with black.
At once, a clear, feminine voice rang out from beside him:
“Young man, the summoning ritual is complete. It’s time to fulfill your three wishes.”
Zhang Yu spun around—there, sitting on the edge of his bed, was a ragged doll.
The fabric was yellowed and faded, the stitching crooked, as if it might tear apart at any moment. Zhang Yu recognized it instantly—the very same doll he’d seen during the eerie ritual on the rooftop the day he arrived.
The doll: “Hey, did you hear me? Three wishes. No exceptions.”
Facing this surreal scene, Zhang Yu only wanted to run.
He was no longer a clueless newcomer. After absorbing the memories, he knew that gods in this world weren’t abstract concepts of faith—they were real administrators overseeing countless affairs across Kunxu.
But such true deities weren’t accessible to someone like Zhang Yu, a spiritual failure. The only beings that could be summoned by such a ritual were the infamous, chaotic spirits—those condemned by the Ten Great Sects and all official deities for causing havoc and taking lives.
Stories of ordinary people making pacts with such spirits, only to be destroyed, their souls scattered—these were common tales told to the people of Kunxu’s first layer.
Zhang Yu’s really at his wit’s end… he actually called upon a demon god?
No wonder I get dizzy whenever I think about it—this is the demon’s influence.
In an instant, Zhang Yu sensed danger and tried to flee—but then stopped, his trembling body freezing in place.
The original Zhang Yu had turned to the demon god because he truly had no other choice.
Should he spend his life as a slave in the lowest strata, repaying debts?
Or risk everything for one last chance to continue cultivating?
Demon god! Zhang Yu declared, voice tight. My first wish—grant me 100 wishes!
He swallowed hard, staring at the doll. Can you do it?
“Heh. That’s child’s play. Of course I can.”
The doll’s laughter was mocking. “But my choice is… no.”
“Because after the ritual is complete, it’s your turn to fulfill my three wishes.”
“Refuse to carry them out, delay them, or fail—then the ritual’s backlash will tear your flesh apart and scatter your soul.”
“Alright. My first wish: you must fulfill 1,000 wishes for me.”
Zhang Yu froze.
What?! So this whole ritual was just to serve her? A thousand wishes? Are you kidding me?
The doll smiled, its black-button eyes fixed on him.
“Ready? I’m about to state my next wish.”
Zhang Yu’s heart sank.
What kind of wish is this going to be?
If I have to fulfill a thousand wishes… I’ll be her slave.
Or worse—she’ll demand something impossible… and I’ll die for it.
The doll spoke slowly:
“I’ve decided. My next wish… is for you to collect a batch of antiques for me.”
Zhang Yu swallowed. Antiques?
The doll giggled. “Don’t worry. I’ve already picked them out for you. Just buy everything in your shopping cart.”
Zhang Yu blinked, then pulled out his phone, opened his shopping cart—and froze.
The cart was already full. Buddha statues, altar tables, incense burners, wooden swords—each one expensive, each costing tens of thousands of yuan.
If he couldn’t afford them, the wish wouldn’t be fulfilled. And if the wish failed… the ritual would kill him.
Panic surged. “Can’t we change the wish?” he asked. “I can’t afford these!”
“Making excuses…” The doll’s gaze sharpened. The empty black eyes seemed to pulse with endless malice. “You’re trying to back out? Can’t pay? Then borrow. Can’t borrow? Sell your heart, kidneys, liver, lungs, spleen—there’s always a way to raise the money.”
Zhang Yu stared at the doll, voice calm. “If I do that… I’ll die trying to fulfill this one wish.”
The doll chuckled. “So what?”
Zhang Yu met its gaze. “You’re choosing to lose a future person who could fulfill a thousand wishes…
Or you give me time—let me become a major sect disciple, then use their wealth to buy these antiques, one by one… and fulfill your wishes.”
“Huh?” The doll blinked, surprised. “Go on.”
Zhang Yu continued: “I’ve calculated—just to buy these antiques, I’d have to work in the first layer for decades, maybe even a lifetime. But if I join a major sect… I could save up the money in just a few years.”
The doll asked: “So?”
Zhang Yu said: “In short… if I study hard, cultivate diligently, get into a top university, and join a sect after graduation, I’ll have a steady income. Then I can use my sect’s salary to fulfill your wishes.”
Another long silence.
Then the doll spoke, voice cold: “You’re saying you’ll study, work, and earn money… to fulfill my wishes?”
“You’re mocking me?”
A wave of infinite malice surged, the doll’s eyes like bottomless black holes, sucking in the light around them.
Zhang Yu clenched his fists, fighting to keep his trembling legs steady. He stared at the doll, each word deliberate:
“Your first wish: I fulfill 1,000 wishes for you.
Your second: I collect the antiques in my shopping cart.
If I die before fulfilling the second wish… how can I ever complete the first?
If I knowingly choose a path that leads to my death to fulfill the second… then I’m deliberately failing the first.
And if I fail the first… the ritual will kill me before I even complete the second.”
“So studying hard, getting into university, working, saving money… is the only realistic path I can think of to fulfill both wishes.”
Silence filled the room.
After a long pause, the doll spoke again: “Show me your account balance.”
Zhang Yu opened his phone. The balance flashed—barely over 1,000 yuan. Dozens of loan overdue alerts flooded the screen.
The doll stared at the screen. Long silence.
This kid… It thought, Normally, the ritual selects wealthy targets. Buying those antiques would be a snap. But this one… he’s so poor. So poor he can’t even fulfill his first wish. He’s created a loophole.
Dammit, I was told to find a rich person! Why did I get stuck with this guy?
Finally, the doll spoke, voice quieter now: “…You make a point.”
“Fine. Go study. When you’ve earned enough, I’ll come back.”
It let out a cold chuckle. “But remember—everything you do is for my wishes.”
“If you ever slack off while fulfilling them… you’ll die in the ritual’s backlash.”
The doll faded away, leaving only a whisper in the air:
“You’ve awakened your potential. But everyone’s potential is different. Find out what yours is… on your own.”
Outside the room, the doll walked down the hallway, muttering:
This kid’s talent is terrible. The potential boost will only give him a little more spiritual power or physical strength. He’ll never even pass college, let alone join a sect. How can he fulfill my wishes?
But… he’s clever on the spot. Interesting. Let’s see how long you can struggle.
Inside the room, Zhang Yu watched as the black symbol on his palm began to shift and change.
(End of Chapter
(End of Chapter)
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