Inside Songyang High School.
In the classroom of Grade 11, Class 10.
Though Class 10 had the worst average grades in the entire year, its cultivation atmosphere still far outstripped any normal high school.
When Bai Zhenzhen walked in with her usual icy expression, what she saw were desks cluttered with syringes and vials, and students casting reverent glances her way.
To the students of Class 10, Bai Zhenzhen—ranked second in the entire grade and an award-winning competitor—was a true inner disciple of Songyang High. She was destined to ascend to the Second Floor of Kunxu and attend university.
As for them? They were basically outer-sect laborers, destined for factory work after graduation, with one foot already in the assembly line.
So when this inner disciple suddenly appeared in their “janitor’s shack,” the students could hardly believe their eyes.
“That’s Bai Zhenzhen! A top-tier prodigy from the demo class actually ca down to this dumpster!”
“She’s the number two brainiac in the year! If I could just copy her answers, I’d skip class for it, no questions asked!”
“Is she here to bully us? Please don’t steal my howork!”
While the students muttered and speculated, the class monitor quickly stood up and approached her.
“Bai Zhenzhen-senpai, is there sothing you need from us?”
Though technically all second-years, cultivation prioritized strength above all. To survive better at Songyang High, the students of Class 10 habitually addressed top students from other classes as “senpai.”
Bai Zhenzhen pulled a power bank from her pocket and said coldly, “I’m taking your classroom’s outlet.”
“Charge this power bank for every day.”
“Once it’s full, deliver it back to .”
Without waiting for an answer, and ignoring the monitor’s anxious confusion, Bai Zhenzhen turned and walked off.
She wasn’t the least bit worried these Class 10 nobodies would dare disobey. In the academic food chain, poor students had no power to defy the elite. Charging a power bank? Please, they’d kneel and kowtow if she asked.
After leaving Class 10, Bai Zhenzhen went classroom by classroom, distributing the other power banks she had brought with her.
Eventually, she made her way to the first-year floor.
Scanning the empty classrooms, she thought, “The power banks are just a side hustle. If I want to steal real electricity, it’s faster to do it by hand.”
It was still late August, and the new first-years hadn’t arrived yet. Bai Zhenzhen casually entered one of the unused classrooms, and the mont she stepped inside, the detection (Ritual) within her activated, sweeping over the four surveillance caras mounted around the room.
All four caras were dim in her vision—clearly not yet turned on.
“Newbies haven’t arrived, so this classroom’s still unused.”
Reassured, she approached an outlet. Her pale fingertips pressed directly to the socket.
Crackling arcs of electricity lit up at her fingertips as an electric tingle surged into her body. The current raced through her ridians with snapping pops, making her thunder-attribute Mana surge in response. The temporarily amplified Mana coursed through her body, reinforcing her muscles and nervous system while faint electric sparks shimred on her skin.
While recharging, Bai Zhenzhen imdiately began cultivating the Thunderquake True Body.
This (Technique) was all about forging the body through thunder-attribute Mana.
Now that she had reached Level 10 and evolved her Zhen Spirit Root, her body’s durability had improved drastically. In high-speed motion, her physique could now buffer and absorb impact.
With the temporarily boosted Mana, she could skip the process of generating thunder-attribute power herself, allowing the Thunderquake True Body to operate even more smoothly.
Ever since she awakened her potential, Bai Zhenzhen’s control over her thunder-attribute Mana had beco nearly instinctive, as if it were part of her flesh.
With the outlet right next to her, she could replenish her energy at will.
This closed loop pushed her body-forging efficiency several tis higher than usual.
Even the Zhen Spirit Root in her dantian began to glow faintly with arcs of electricity.
When her muscles finally started to ache and go numb with overuse, Bai Zhenzhen knew she had hit her physical limit and paused.
“Alright, ti to take a break—and check on the harvest.”
She returned to the demo class’s classroom, only to see her desk already piled with fully charged power banks.
Smiling faintly, Bai Zhenzhen grabbed a few and ran off again. As she jogged, she sucked on one of the power cables, sipping the current while recovering her Mana through breathing (Technique).
…
anwhile, a student complained to He Dayou, “Vice President, if Bai Zhenzhen keeps hogging the outlets, how are we supposed to charge our stuff?”
He Dayou frowned. “Bai Zhenzhen is second in the grade. What’s your rank? Letting her use the outlets is the least you can do.”
The student protested, “But still…”
“No buts,” He Dayou interrupted. “Either endure it, or outperform her. Then you can go charge in the principal’s office if you want.”
Watching the student walk away dejected, He Dayou sighed inwardly. As the Student Council Vice President, he was supposed to enforce justice.
If it had been Zhao Tianxing hogging the outlets, he would’ve spoken up.
But this was Bai Zhenzhen. All he could do was urge the others to endure.
…
At that mont, on the school rooftop—
Zhang Yu was cultivating the Endless Spring and Autumn ditation.
Each ti he completed a set of motions, his muscles tore under pressure, then swiftly healed under the nourishnt of Longevity Mana.
With each cycle of autumn and spring, death and rebirth, he grew stronger. Toxins from pills and dicines were steadily purged from his body.
Eventually, as he finished another round, his eyes snapped open.
He had finally reached Level 10 in the Endless Spring and Autumn ditation.
A torrent of cycles, physical conditioning, and purification experiences surged through his mind, raising his mastery of the (Technique) to a new height.
The 49 movents of the (Technique) flashed through his thoughts in order. Corresponding flows of Longevity Mana surged through his body, reinforcing it with each cycle of autumn and spring—a seemingly endless loop.
Now, with the (Technique) at Level 10, he realized its detoxification ability had evolved even further. Instead of expelling the residual toxins, he could now choose to retain them in his body.
The accumulated toxins condensed on his chest into a faint character for “zen,” which would darken over ti as the poison built up.
These stored toxins had no adverse effects—unless Zhang Yu chose to release them.
When that ti ca, he could unleash them in one explosive burst, drawing out his body’s deepest reserves and pushing his strength beyond its natural limits.
“But the stronger the toxin, the more it shortens your lifespan.”
Zhang Yu mulled over this trade-off. “It’s a last-resort move—not sothing I want to use unless I absolutely have to.”
He didn’t plan to waste this trump card on sothing like a schoolyard fight. Fights were already risky enough—and this trick might not even be worth it compared to simply losing.
But the Foundation Establishnt exam? That was a different story. If shaving off a few years of life gave him a better shot at passing, he could accept that.
“Now that Endless Spring and Autumn ditation is at Level 10, I should start collecting the rest of the high school-level (Techniques) to complete the High School Saint Body.”
After familiarizing himself with the upgraded (Technique), a bell rang in the distance—ti for dinner.
With all the body-forging he did every day, food was as essential as cultivation.
He leapt down from the rooftop and landed with a thud on the ground, drawing everyone’s attention as he strode off toward the cafeteria.
Scanning the lines, he noted students of all colors—purples, blacks, beastkin—and couldn’t help but marvel at Songyang High’s diversity.
The black students, in particular, gave him a strange sense of nostalgia.
“Feels like I’ve ti-traveled back.”
“Didn’t think Kunxu had its own Black population.”
Ignoring the gawking students, Zhang Yu cut to the front, grabbed his food, and headed to his usual table—where Bai Zhenzhen was already seated.
As he ate and browsed potential (Techniques) on his phone, Zhao Tianxing and Qian Shen arrived with their trays.
Both looked quite different from a few weeks ago.
Their skin still had a slight purplish tint, but it was much lighter than the other high schoolers.
Zhao Tianxing recalled how only a few students had opted for the Super-tabolism Surgery at first. Being one of the initial purple-skins had been awkward.
But as more and more students underwent the surgery, it beca the new normal. Those without it started feeling left out.
Eventually, a new hierarchy ford among the purple-skinned students themselves: from deep-purple (lowest), to light-purple (middle), to skin with no purple at all (highest). The lighter your tint, the higher your status.
Zhao Tianxing thought, “I didn’t even notice it happening, but now Songyang High has its own caste system based on skin color—from dark purple to pale purple to none at all.”
“And that’s just here. I heard at Purple Cloud High, everyone has undergone Super-tabolism Surgery. Skin tone is officially part of their caste system…”
Just then, the campus broadcast crackled to life, announcing a new crackdown on tardiness and absenteeism.
Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen both frowned.
They were among Songyang High’s most notorious truants.
After all, the regular curriculum could no longer keep up with their Immortal Path progress. Skipping class wasn’t rebellion—it was survival. With the Foundation Establishnt exam looming, every minute counted.
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