No Money to Cultivate Immortality?
Chapter 13: A Teacher’s Concern

Until gym class ended, Wang Hai continued to treat Zhang Yu like air, not speaking a word to him or offering any guidance or instruction.

With Wang Hai taking the lead in isolating him, the rest of the class also instinctively avoided Zhang Yu, as if an invisible no-man’s land had formed around him.

“That old Wang… he's really petty.”

But there was nothing Zhang Yu could do at this point. He simply lay back on the ground in silence to rest.

Before he knew it, class had ended and the students were trickling off toward the cafeteria.

Once everyone had left, Zhou Tianyi strolled over and gave him a thumbs-up. “Warrior, did you buy accident insurance yet?”

Zhang Yu slowly sat up, dusted off his pants, and said, “What’s there to be afraid of? Once my cultivation shoots up and my grades soar, I’ll have no shortage of teachers lining up to protect me.”

He looked at his Feathered Tome with confidence. His physical strength had gone up from 0.83 to 0.84.

And that was without injections, supplements, or even proper meals—just training with the Body-Refining Thirty-Six Forms alone.

At this rate, once he leveled up the Body-Refining Thirty-Six Forms, his physical strength would grow even faster.

Just thinking about it made Zhang Yu marvel again at his terrifying potential.

Zhou Tianyi glanced at him curiously. “You look pretty confident all of a sudden. Did you find a new supplier? If you’ve got good stuff, don’t forget your bros.”

Zhang Yu clenched his fists and grinned. “Kid, I’m on Natural Body Forging!”

Outside the training room, Bai Zhenzhen’s face was flushed from exertion, sweat dripping down her forehead as steam rose from her body after an intense body-refining session.

Bang bang bang!

She knocked on the door and said coolly, “Zhang Yu, you done pretending? I’m starving. Let’s go eat.”

The three of them hurried to join the cafeteria crowd, and even from a distance they could see the huge line in front of the doors.

However, as members of the Cultivation Prep Class, they had the privilege of entering through the VIP lane and eating without waiting.

Under the varied stares of students from other classes, the three of them walked into the cafeteria.

How to describe the feeling?

If Zhang Yu had to put it into words, it was like an inner sect prodigy entering the Juxian Restaurant while outer sect grunts looked on with envy, jealousy, and longing to take their place.

As soon as they stepped inside, Bai Zhenzhen announced, “I’m getting Nutritional Cultivation today—heading upstairs.”

Nutritional Cultivation meant meals cooked with immortal-imbued ingredients and medicinal supplements, which greatly improved the body, replenished losses from intense training, and enhanced both refining and breathing efficiency.

It offered countless benefits to Immortal Path training, and the only reason Zhang Yu wasn’t partaking was because it was outrageously expensive.

A single meal could easily cost several hundred, and premium ingredients ran into the thousands. Even the old Zhang Yu, who was flush with Cultivation Loans, couldn’t afford to eat it daily—let alone the current him.

Watching Bai Zhenzhen walk alone up to the second floor, Zhang Yu could feel the class divide between the cafeteria’s two levels. It reminded him of the line outside and his position inside.

But a question gnawed at him: “Didn’t Ah Zhen say she was broke? How’s she affording upstairs meals?”

…

Not long after lunch, Zhang Yu—just settling into his nap—was called to the teacher’s office.

A middle-aged man sipped tea while looking up at Zhang Yu, who stood in front of the desk.

“Wang Hai told me about your situation,” he said.

The man’s name was Su Haifeng, the Cultivation Prep Class homeroom teacher and also the head of the first-year division.

He now stared at Zhang Yu with visible disappointment. “Do you remember what you told me during your entrance interview?”

Back when the original Zhang Yu applied to Songyang Advanced Immortal Arts High School, Su Haifeng had been the central interviewer.

Hearing his words now, Zhang Yu froze. While he’d absorbed the original’s memories, some details weren’t instantly accessible.

Su Haifeng sighed. “I remember you said you wanted to get into a top university.”

“But during gym class, you didn’t take supplements, didn’t get injections, and just laid around being lazy—and even talked back to your teacher. Is that your idea of working toward a top school?”

Zhang Yu didn’t know how to explain. What could he say—that he was too broke and talentless for meds and shots, and that his latent potential had just activated so he could slack off a little?

Feeling Zhang Yu’s silence, Su Haifeng sighed again. “You’ve done well these past three months. I know you’re a good kid.”

“Did something happen at home recently?”

Zhang Yu was surprised to hear genuine concern in the man’s voice.

“This insane school actually has teachers who care?”

He thought for a moment and quietly said, “Yeah… had some trouble with my family.”

“I’ll try to work through it and get back on track soon.”

Although he appreciated the concern, Zhang Yu could only brush it off for now. Once his grades improved, he wouldn’t need to explain any of this.

But Su Haifeng frowned in dissatisfaction. “Why can’t you tell your teacher the truth?”

“Are you having financial problems at home?”

“The loan platforms have already started calling the school.”

“What?” Zhang Yu’s head shot up. “They called you?”

Su Haifeng nodded gravely. “If they hadn’t, I wouldn’t have known you were in so much debt. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Zhang Yu: “I…”

He genuinely hadn’t thought there was any point in telling the school. Especially at a place like Songyang High—he figured it’d only make things worse.

But Su Haifeng sighed once more, his expression gentle. “I know the school can be strict, and maybe that’s why you’re afraid to come to us.”

“But we’re your teachers. Why wouldn’t we help our own students?”

As he spoke, he pulled a document from his drawer and handed it to Zhang Yu.

“This is a special hardship relief plan I applied for just for you. Go ahead and sign it.”

Taking the paper, Zhang Yu was moved. “Thank you, teacher.”

He realized he’d misjudged the teachers here.

“Maybe there’s unreliable ones like Wang Hai,” he thought, “but there are also kind mentors like Teacher Su.”

Su Haifeng smiled and handed him a pen. “Go on, sign it.”

Zhang Yu looked down at the document, scanned the contents—and froze.

Su Haifeng chuckled. “What’s wrong? Sign it quickly. I want to submit it before I leave for the day.”

Zhang Yu said slowly, “Teacher… this looks like a debt restructuring contract. Did you hand me the wrong file?”

Su Haifeng smiled warmly. “Hardship students are hardship students because they’re in debt. Restructure the debt, and we’re helping the hardship student. That’s the relief plan.”

The contract detailed a consolidation of all Zhang Yu’s debts. The school would loan him a lump sum to pay off everything at once.

From that moment on, the school would become his creditor.

Zhang Yu did a quick estimate. After all the fees—interest, principal, handling fees, upfront charges—the total shot past one million.

“Debt restructuring my ass. This is just a loan to pay off loans!”

He roared internally, “Even the homeroom teacher’s in on this loan shark racket?!”

“Is there a single normal teacher in this damned school?!”

Swallowing his fury, Zhang Yu forced out a breath. “Teacher, I think I’ll pass. I can repay this myself.”

Su Haifeng tried to persuade him, voice gentle. “How could a child like you repay such a large sum? Just sign it—let the school handle it.”

“Don’t worry, the repayment terms are very flexible.”

Zhang Yu: “No thanks, teacher. Really.”

He turned and bolted from the office, tossing the contract aside.

As he disappeared down the hallway, Su Haifeng raised his teacup and blew on it lightly.

A moment later, he picked up his vibrating phone.

“He refused,” he said.

“Mm, I’ll try again later.”

“Don’t worry. Poor kids… they can’t hold out forever against the collection agencies. Sooner or later, they’ll come begging.”