No Money to Cultivate Immortality?
Chapter 18: The Mana Competition

In today’s Mana class, the students of the Model Class were seated cross-legged in the meditation chamber, circulating their breathing techniques.

A camera at the front monitored their every move—whether their eyes opened, whether they scratched an itch, fidgeted with their hands, shuffled their legs, or even wriggled their butts... any slight anomaly was recorded.

All of it was compiled into a single metric: the Distraction Rate.

The class with the highest Distraction Rate each week would be publicly criticized across the school.

The students of the Model Class didn’t care much—no matter how the evaluations were done, they were always number one.

But the student with the lowest Distraction Rate each week wasn’t just publicly praised—they were also rewarded with 500 yuan and one hour of free Heavenly Spiritual Root rental.

That certainly got the Model Class fired up.

Zhang Yu, learning of the Distraction Rate for the first time, couldn’t help but think: if his past life had this, students would’ve cursed the school out as utterly brain-dead.

But this world was different. The students in the Model Class stared at their Distraction Rates like bulls in heat. The whole room radiated competitive fervor.

Just then, the bell rang. The students, who had been silently cultivating, all stopped and looked at the screen ahead, waiting to see this period’s Distraction Rate rankings.

1st – Zhang Yu: Distraction Rate 0%, Mana 8.3

2nd – Bai Zhenzhen: Distraction Rate 0.03%, Mana 11.2

3rd – Qian Shen: Distraction Rate 0.12%, Mana 11.1

…

Though no one in the room spoke, a subtle wave of surprise rippled through their expressions and glances.

The Mana instructor was Ms. Yan, a woman with her hair in a bun and thick-rimmed glasses.

Staring at the screen, Ms. Yan said, “Those with a Distraction Rate above 0.3%, I won’t call names today.”

“It’s been three months since school started. How many times have I said: ‘Focus the mind, blend with the breath’?”

“With Distraction Rates this high, how can your breathing technique match anyone else's?”

“We all cultivate twenty-four hours a day. You don’t get more time than others. If your technique is inefficient, even falling behind a little each day means that by the end of high school, your Mana might lag by 10, 20, or even 30 points.”

“And how many times have I told you—those who can’t lower their Distraction Rate should come to my office and buy Calming Elixir. I sat in the office for three hours yesterday and no one came to ask. Are you all perfect now?”

After a round of scolding, Ms. Yan smiled faintly and said, “Of course, some students have performed admirably.”

“I want to commend the top three in Distraction Rate, especially Zhang Yu, who’s had a 0% rate for four days in a row. Compared to before, it’s a qualitative leap.”

“And he’s gained 0.5 Mana in the past three days. Clearly, he’s been working hard even outside of class—either renting a Spirit Root or training in a high-grade room. Isn’t that right, Zhang Yu?”

Every student turned to look.

But Zhang Yu still sat with eyes closed, hovering between wakefulness and trance, silently cycling his Zhou Tian Qi-Gathering Technique.

Ms. Yan praised, “Look at that! That’s the attitude of a real scholar—still cultivating even after class ends, seizing every second to grow stronger.”

Zhao Tianxing stared at Zhang Yu, who remained diligently focused, and muttered in confusion, “Someone who works this hard—why slack off during Phys Ed and skip the injections?”

Bai Zhenzhen also looked at Zhang Yu, thinking, “This guy hasn’t stopped cultivating aside from eating and pooping… Is he being chased by those 700,000 yuan collection calls?”

Ms. Yan continued, “Of course, nothing in cultivation comes for free. If you don’t spend money, you won’t get far. Recently, the school has openings for Heavenly Spiritual Root rentals—interested students, come to me.”

But what really caught Zhang Yu’s attention was something she said next.

“Oh, right. The city-wide Mana Competition starts next month. The freshman division will have every high school in Songyang City participating. First prize is 100,000 yuan…”

“Registration is next Friday, and our school will select the top ten students in Mana by then…”

…

That night, in the cafeteria.

Zhou Tianyi had to leave early for his prep class, so only Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen remained at the table.

With Bai Zhenzhen staring daggers into him, Zhang Yu finally said, “Zhenzhen, I know I’m insanely handsome—like a crane among chickens in this study-obsessed school—but must you stare so hard?”

“You really want to join the Mana Competition?” Bai Zhenzhen asked.

“A shame, really.” Zhang Yu shook his head. “If you weren’t my friend, this is where you, the top-ranked prodigy, would mock me, then get crushed by my brilliance on stage, eyes wide in disbelief.”

Bai Zhenzhen shook her head. “Zhang Yu, this is the city-wide Mana Competition.”

“It gathers the strongest, most Mana-rich, and wealthiest students in all of Songyang City—literal sons of cash.”

Her eyes turned somber as she seemed to see a tragic future. “You’ll be humiliated by wave after wave of elites, trampled as a stepping stone by the rich, the school’s joke, our reputation in the mud!”

“It’ll be brutal. I can already see you crushed by other schools’ monsters, your Dao Heart shattered like a dead dog.”

Zhang Yu rolled his eyes. “Don’t be so dramatic. It’s not a death match. Losing isn’t shameful.”

“Besides, the winner gets 100,000 yuan.”

“Even top ten gets 10,000.”

Watching Zhang Yu’s greedy expression, Bai Zhenzhen thought, Yup. Definitely pushed to madness by the debt collectors.

And she wasn’t wrong. Though he’d just earned 13,000 yuan from the Xianyun Group, he’d already used 10,000 to repay debt, 1,500 for rent, leaving barely 2,000 left.

“If you want in, you better think about how to raise your Mana into the top ten. You’re ranked 16th now, right? How much debt will it take to climb that high?”

Zhang Yu did the math.

His current Mana: 8.3. Ranked 16th.

10th place: Mana 9.5.

To pass that, he’d need to hit at least 9.5 by next Friday.

“No—better to account for everyone improving.”

“Safer to aim for 10.0 Mana.”

“That’s 1.7 points in eight days. Over 0.2 per day… Is that even possible?”

Absolutely. Easily!

To other teachers and students, Zhang Yu’s rapid gains probably looked like the result of expensive Spirit Root and facility rentals.

But he knew—it was pure talent and intense discipline.

His Level-4 Zhou Tian Qi-Gathering Technique had already boosted his Mana by 0.5 in just three days. As it continued to level up, the gains would only grow faster.

“After all, during the Qi Refining Realm, techniques cap at Level 10.”

“A Level-4 breathing technique is already rare for freshmen.”

“If I can push it to Level 8, 9, or even 10 soon… that’ll be a level most students won’t reach in all three years of high school.”

As his confidence surged, Bai Zhenzhen suddenly stabbed her chopsticks toward his bowl.

“Bold move!” Zhang Yu shouted, raising his own chopsticks to block.

A flurry of clinks followed—only for Bai Zhenzhen to easily twist his chopsticks away.

Sensing the technique in her movements, Zhang Yu exclaimed, “High School Basic Sword Technique? You already mastered it? And you integrated it into chopsticks?!”

Snatching a few pieces of meat, Bai Zhenzhen grinned. “What’s so hard about it, Zhang Yu? I have hands, don’t I?”

Zhang Yu groaned inside. Damn, she got me again.

After munching her spoils and a few more bites of rice, Bai Zhenzhen burped and said, “Ugh, any more and I’ll be too full for class.”

She pushed her tray toward him. “Extra for you, Zhang Yu.”

Looking at the untouched half-portion she’d left behind, Zhang Yu understood—it was deliberate. She’d been feeding him often during dinner lately.

Probably because she knew about his financial trouble.

Taking the tray, Zhang Yu muttered while eating, “Zhenzhen, don’t worry about my pride or dignity. With our relationship, just send me money if you want.”

Bai Zhenzhen rolled her eyes. “I’ve got tutoring. Eat slow.”

…

Outside the cafeteria.

A tall figure stood in the nearby stairwell, eyes fixed on the entrance.

When Zhang Yu finally walked out, the figure perked up and immediately followed.

Trailing him to the stationery shop across the street, Zhao Tianxing’s eyes gleamed.

“Is this where Zhang Yu gets his supplies?”