Chapter 59: Undercurrents Stirring

Zhang Yu stared at the vest, shorts, wrist and ankle bands in front of him, alongside two large canisters.

This was the weighted training suit and the beast meat powder he’d just bought.

The weighted suit was a classic piece of body-refining gear—durable, affordable, and perfect for low-key grinding without attracting attention. Plus, there was always the bonus of dramatically tossing it off during a fight. A must-have classic for any cultivator.

This particular set weighed a total of 150 kilograms, allowing Zhang Yu to train his body simply by moving around.

As for the beast meat powder, it was a nutritional supplement that replenished his daily losses and fueled physical growth—helping kids grow taller, faster, and stronger.

Together, the two had cost him over 4,000 yuan, leaving him with just over 59,000 in savings.

“Sigh, still too broke. All I can afford are bottom-tier gear for broke cultivators.”

What Zhang Yu had

really

wanted when scrolling the site was an external spirit root—specifically, the Glutton Booster.

That thing supposedly stimulated the body’s metabolism and physical growth nonstop. It devoured every shred of nutrition you fed it and turned it into raw flesh and muscle. According to the ad copy, it could make you stronger even if all you ate was garbage.

Unfortunately, it cost forty million.

To pay forty million just to find out what getting stronger from eating crap feels like—well, Zhang Yu definitely couldn’t afford that yet.

“Sigh, guess I’ll just try the school’s Muscle-Boosting Root during the next free rental.”

He began strapping the weighted suit onto himself, piece by piece. The moment it was on, his body felt like it had gained layers of shackles. Every simple action—bending over, walking, raising a hand—now came with a heavy drag. Moving suddenly felt ten times harder.

“Huff…”

He’d barely taken a few steps when a voice yelled up from downstairs: “What the hell, you demolishing the building up there?!”

Zhang Yu grimaced. The noise from the weighted suit was definitely not subtle. So, he headed out toward the abandoned building.

With each step, the weight dragged on him like invisible chains. He could feel discomfort from every corner of his body.

But once he activated the Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique, and focused on his goal of strengthening his body, the pain subsided. In its place came a deep sense of satisfaction—the kind that came from knowing your flesh was growing stronger every moment.

“As expected, the Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique works here too.”

His next goal: maintain the technique at all times. Use it to resist the discomfort of the weighted suit and push his Dao Heart higher.

“Twenty-four hours a day—training both Dao Heart and body.”

If he could really do it, he’d drastically increase his Dao Heart progression, all while refining his body on the side.

The fact that he’d voluntarily added this kind of weight onto himself—even without anyone forcing him—made Zhang Yu let out a bitter chuckle.

“No choice. Those rich bastards from the Three Great Academies are absolutely cracked.”

“If I want to survive, if I want to get into one of the Ten Great Academies, join a Major Sect… I

have

to keep grinding…”

Once again, Zhang Yu returned to the abandoned building. Wearing the weighted suit, he sat cross-legged on the floor, striving to maintain the Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique. In his mind, he repeatedly sketched the Intent-Focusing Diagram of the Old Ox tilling a barren field, all while letting his body rest.

In theory, as long as a cultivator could endure it, a heart technique could be maintained indefinitely.

It was like listening to a novel while playing a game—multitasking in its purest form.

But mental fatigue, distractions, and external stimuli could all disrupt the technique.

And if you had to do something that required real brainpower—like taking an exam or analyzing a battle—it became even harder to maintain.

So although the Dao Heart teacher had claimed that powerful cultivators could keep a technique running as long as they remained conscious, the old Zhang Yu had never pulled it off.

But ever since Zhang Yu leveled the Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique to 10 and raised his Dao Heart to Level 2, he’d found it increasingly easier.

Before, keeping it going had been like doing math problems nonstop in his head. Now it was more like counting from 1 to 1000—still work, but much easier.

“Seems like I can now do more complex training while maintaining the technique.”

Hence the new experiment: train under more conditions, all while keeping the technique running.

After a short rest, Zhang Yu stood and began pacing back and forth with the suit on, still maintaining the heart technique.

It felt like he’d thrown away half his brain and half his muscles—like learning to walk again from scratch.

The next night, back at the abandoned building, he tried doing some light warm-up exercises while keeping the technique going.

On the third night, more adapted to the routine, Zhang Yu began practicing Limitless Cloud Hands with the weighted suit on, still maintaining the technique.

By now, the sixth-level Limitless Cloud Hands had become ingrained in his mind. He could execute each move smoothly, almost without thought.

As he cycled through the motions, the Intent-Focusing Diagram pulsed in his mind, his flesh struggled under the suit’s weight, and his Formless Cloud Qi emerged again and again in soft bursts.

However, splitting his focus between the heart technique, the physical resistance, and the mana output slowed his progress considerably.

It took him three full days to push Limitless Cloud Hands to Level 10.

Yes,

only

three days. Zhang Yu still felt that was

slow

.

“Sigh, the Feathered Tome just isn’t pulling its weight. It’s holding back my potential—and my self-discipline.”

Inside the abandoned building, mana surged from his dantian, silently rippling through his limbs in seven consecutive pulses. Then, like a geyser, it burst from every pore.

In that instant, Zhang Yu was surrounded by swirling white mist, radiating a serene, immortal-like aura.

“So this is what Level 10 Limitless Cloud Hands does—Formless Cloud Qi now flows from my entire body, not just my hands. A true offense-defense technique.”

The downside? Mana drain had skyrocketed. He could barely maintain it for a few minutes before needing to stop.

Still, the results spoke for themselves.

His mana, through tireless day and night breathing, had reached 16.9.

The constant pressure from the weighted suit and the martial practice had pushed his physical strength to Level 1.28.

His Dao Heart, constantly tempered by the Level 10 Soul-Stabilizing Oxheart Technique, had risen to Level 2 (65%).

…

That morning, just after Zhang Yu arrived at class, a worn-faced middle-aged woman stepped up to one of the desks, packing up someone’s things.

Zhang Yu blinked in confusion.

Zhou Tianyi explained, “Liang Qin dropped out. That’s his mom, picking up his stuff.”

“Huh?” Zhang Yu asked, surprised. “Why?”

“Gambling debt—owed over a hundred grand. His parents found out and yanked him out.”

“Apparently they stormed into the teacher’s office yesterday. Liang Qin was kneeling and begging, but his parents insisted on the withdrawal.”

Zhou Tianyi shook his head. “They did the right thing. Once you get hooked on gambling, you’re done for. Might as well stay a mortal—no shot at the Immortal Path.”

“Even if you make it to immortality, you’ll crash right back down—burn through all your cultivation, bankrupt yourself, and start over as a mortal.”

Zhang Yu fell silent. Liang Qin’s situation was eerily close to his own—back when the original Zhang Yu was drowning in debt. If he hadn’t transmigrated, maybe he’d be the one dropping out.

Just then, Bai Zhenzhen dragged Zhang Yu out of the classroom.

“Those stingy bastards finally sent the contract. Sign the e-agreement.”

Shortly after Zhang Yu signed it, his phone pinged with a payment alert.

Two thousand yuan—just like that. Both Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen perked up.

Bai Zhenzhen grinned. “Those stingy bastards actually coughed up two grand in one go. Guess they’re serious about you.”

“Send eight hundred to my account—I need it.”

Zhang Yu didn’t ask why. He just sent the money and asked, “What’ve you been up to lately? You disappear right after school every day.”

Bai Zhenzhen smiled. “Trying to find a way into the Ten Great Academies, of course.”

“They clearly value us. Let’s squeeze them a bit—ease our pressure.”

Then she remembered something and added, “Once the monthly exam ends next week, Zhou Chechen’s definitely gonna try and get us to sign with the Student Council again.”

“If we say no again, they’ll ramp up the pressure.”

“Especially you. You placed fourth in the Law Tournament. They’ll do whatever it takes to get you. Can you hold out?”

Zhang Yu wasn’t so sure. But seeing the concern in Bai Zhenzhen’s eyes, he laughed. “Of course I can. Just don’t you quit on me first.”

In his heart, though, he knew—either the ritual killed him, or he made it into the Ten Great Academies. There was no third option.

Just then, that familiar chill returned. The ritual was urging him—time to study, to cultivate.

“Sigh. Enough talk. Power is everything. I’m heading back to train.”

Bai Zhenzhen grabbed his shoulder and reminded him, “When you say no, blame it on Purple Cloud High or White Dragon High—say they’re trying to recruit you. Stall the Student Council.”

“Whatever you do, don’t let them find out you’re aiming for the Ten Great Academies.”

Watching Zhang Yu hurry away, Bai Zhenzhen could feel the urgency in him too.

“Yuzi’s really putting in work lately.”

“He’s anxious too.”

“But it’s fine. I’m close to finding

that guy

…”

“He might’ve beaten me by a bit in the Law Tournament, but when it comes to getting into the Ten Greats? He’ll still need me watching his back.”

…

In the meditation chamber.

Zhang Yu had rented the Muscle-Boosting Root, and every breath he took now came with feedback—a trace of vibrant spiritual essence rebounding from the root.

This was the “growth essence” the root provided.

As it was absorbed by his blood and flesh, his entire body began to tremble slightly, accelerating nutrient absorption.

The Muscle-Boosting Root would continue working like this for 6 to 12 hours, massively boosting the effectiveness of his body training.

From the speakers came Wei Xin’s voice: “Zhang, want to add an hour?”

Zhang Yu exhaled slowly, thought for a moment, and replied, “Add one hour.”

…

In the training hall.

Martial arts instructor Lei Jun was tutoring Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen in preparation for next month’s martial competition.

Booms and cracks filled the air as two figures collided again and again like wild beasts in a brawl.

Zhang Yu’s Limitless Cloud Hands launched waves of Martial Qi.

But Bai Zhenzhen struck with finger-swords, aiming precisely at the weakest points of his Formless Cloud Qi, dissipating it instantly.

From the side, Lei Jun barked, “Zhang Yu! Limitless Cloud Hands is all about fluid transitions—use momentum, not brute force!”

Zhang Yu wanted to fight smarter too, but Bai Zhenzhen’s combat instincts were just too sharp. Without instinctively relying on brute force and Martial Qi, he’d be getting steamrolled.

“Geez, how’s Zhenzhen so damn good at this?”

He hadn’t gone all-out yet, but even with Level 1 Limitless Cloud Hands, he was still getting hard-countered by her basic martial techniques. It made him seriously wonder—was Bai Zhenzhen cheating?

X-ray vision? Auto-aim? Reading his inputs? How did she keep hitting his weak points? How did she always see through his moves?

…

And so, Zhang Yu’s days passed—endless cycles of studying, cultivating, and grinding.

In the blink of an eye, another week flew by.

The big day of Songyang High’s monthly exam had arrived.

And classmates, teachers, the Student Council… even people Zhang Yu didn’t know were all turning their attention toward him and Bai Zhenzhen.