No Money to Cultivate Immortality?
Chapter 33: Dao Techniques and Combat

Scattered Hand Level 2 (0/20) → Scattered Hand Level 3 (0/30)

In an instant, the fifteen Scattered Hand techniques became increasingly refined in Zhang Yu’s mind. He could clearly picture the follow-up variations and transitions between each move, as if they were second nature.

Each movement of Mana now flowed like instinct. If he unleashed a move at this moment, his Mana would automatically follow, circulating through his limbs with ease and precision.

"The passive breathing effect of the Zhou Tian Qi-Gathering Technique is also kicking in."

Zhang Yu could feel Mana coursing through his body at all times. This constant circulation made it much easier to channel power during combat, allowing his Scattered Hand techniques to be executed smoothly.

He couldn’t help but marvel at how much the Zhou Tian Qi-Gathering Technique aided beginners. Not only was it great for breathing and body refinement—it significantly enhanced practical combat techniques as well.

But the exam was looming, and there was no time to dwell on such thoughts.

After a short breathing session to recover his strength, Zhang Yu headed straight for the examination hall.

The first exam of the afternoon was Dao Techniques, followed by the Martial Combat exam.

The Dao Techniques test primarily focused on the identification and usage of Gathering Sigils.

Since those in the Qi Refining Realm couldn’t yet wield true Dao Techniques, they could only rely on their knowledge and Mana to activate Sigils. As such, the Dao Techniques curriculum throughout high school revolved around Sigils.

In this context, “Fu” referred to incantations, while “Lu” referred to scripture. Sigils were secret methods that allowed one to communicate with the gods and channel divine power.

…

Inside the computer lab.

Zhang Yu sat down at a computer and silently reviewed everything he knew about Sigils.

Not far off, Zhao Tianxing was frantically flipping through his textbook, trying to memorize every last bit of information he was afraid of forgetting.

Bai Zhenzhen was sprawled out on her desk, dozing off, apparently not the least bit concerned about the upcoming exam.

Just then, a bell rang out. Students hurried to place any non-exam items at the front desk before returning to their assigned seats.

Moments later, the computer screens flickered to life, displaying the exam papers.

Question 1: Which of the following Sigils belongs to the Ministry of Transportation's Divine Overseer of Roads and Transit?

Zhang Yu’s memory instantly recalled the relevant details.

The Ministry of Transportation—one of Kunxu’s Eight Divine Ministries—governed all land, air, and sea travel within Kunxu and had the authority to monitor all transportation networks.

The Divine Overseer of Roads and Transit was a deity under that ministry, in charge of city infrastructure. Zhang Yu remembered one of his divine authorities involved recording surveillance data from all urban roads and vehicles.

By invoking this deity through a Sigil, one could access citywide surveillance footage—past, present, and complete to the smallest detail.

The memory flashed by, and Zhang Yu moved on to the options.

There were four choices, something like:

A. ！★，°:.☆(￣▽￣)/$:.°★。

B. (o>ε(o>ｕ(≧∩≦)(￣ー￣)X(^▽^)

C. ))▍)*)(((`)

D. 『』～o(▽｀o)=▊=▋=▍

“All four are styled like transportation department divine Sigils... Starting off by messing with our heads, huh?”

“I think it’s Option D, the Vehicle Surveillance Sigil, right?”

After a moment’s thought, Zhang Yu selected D and moved on to the next question.

Which of the following Sigils is not a Reporting Sigil?

Zhang Yu blinked. “Reporting Sigil? Never learned that. Another question beyond the syllabus?”

Frowning, he picked one that seemed plausible and moved on.

He finished the multiple-choice section one question at a time, only to find the short-answer and written response sections even more brutal.

One question read: “Compose a Physical Examination Sigil to invoke the Ministry of Health’s God of Vitality and have them check for intestinal growths.”

Another: “Which Sigil would best subdue three unarmed mortals 30 meters due north? Please draw the Sigil. Below is the data on the three mortals and the surrounding environment…”

“Damn it… There are three regular guys. Can’t I just beat them up? Why do I need a Sigil for that?”

As Zhang Yu wiped sweat from his brow while drafting a Restraint Sigil, he heard the screech of a chair being pushed back.

Looking up, he saw He Dayou already turning in his exam.

Zhang Yu remembered that He Dayou had ranked third in last month’s monthly exams—a fellow rich kid, just like Qian Shen.

Unlike Qian Shen, who focused on grades, He Dayou was all about flaunting his wealth. He and Zhang Yu rarely interacted.

Even turning in the exam early felt like a flex.

After all, Sigils were a subject where money directly translated to performance—a dividing line between rich and poor. Many even called Sigils “the language of the wealthy.”

In short, Sigil drawing tapped into the power of the Eight Divine Ministries to perform miraculous feats. These ministries were commonly referred to as the Eight Divine Officials.

However, schools only taught the most basic Sigil crafting. To learn anything advanced—or not covered in the curriculum—you had to purchase a scripture, or “Lu.”

But beyond the high price tag of scripture itself, there were also subscription fees, ritual offerings, belief level unlocks, and other massive expenditures.

Without enough money spent on a scripture, you couldn’t raise your belief level, couldn’t unlock more functions, couldn’t access advanced Sigils or more diverse Sigil types.

Only after fulfilling all these prerequisites did one even qualify to rigorously train with Sigils—whether it be dialoguing one-on-one with the Divine Officials, receiving divine debugging assistance, or practicing while getting divine optimization guidance… All of which cost a fortune.

Outside of school, learning Sigils was a money-burning endeavor.

And if you ever violated a rule set by the Eight Divine Officials—like sharing Sigils privately or using them to break sect law—the penalties were steep, ranging from heavy fines to total financial ruin.

Every time Zhang Yu attended a Dao Techniques class, he couldn’t help but reflect on how fundamentally unfair this subject was. It was the ultimate score-padding field for the wealthy and the most punishing subject for the poor. No wonder people called it the “language of the rich.”

But Zhang Yu had also heard Zhou Tianyi mention that Sigils weren’t even the most expensive part of Dao Techniques.

Some post-Foundation Establishment techniques were so costly, they could plunge a college student deep into debt.

After barely surviving the Dao Techniques exam, Zhang Yu walked out of the classroom to find a crowd swarming He Dayou, eagerly checking answers.

He Dayou smiled and pulled out something like a jade tablet. With a few swipes of his Mana, a golden projection slowly emerged from it.

He said with a grin, “This is the Answer Sigil from the All-Knowing Deity. Ask anything you like.”

The students gasped in awe. Their eyes sparkled with envy as they stared at the shimmering jade tablet.

As Zhang Yu watched the scene unfold, Bai Zhenzhen muttered beside him, “So that’s a scripture, huh? Even has a jade finish… This bastard’s probably been waiting to show it off for weeks.”

Zhang Yu turned to see Bai Zhenzhen grumbling, body practically contorted with jealousy.

“How’d you do?” he asked.

Bai Zhenzhen scowled. “How do you think? At least a quarter of the Sigils were never even taught.”

“Twenty percent of the college entrance exam was outside the syllabus two years ago. Now it’s creeping up to twenty-five? If this keeps up, by the time it’s our turn, half the damn test’ll be stuff we’ve never even seen. They’ve got no shame.”

“They’d better not pit me against one of those rich bastards in the combat exam, or I swear I’ll fail them on purpose.”

Across the room, He Dayou seemed to sense their stares. He turned and gave them a polite smile.

Bai Zhenzhen instantly composed herself, nodding back with practiced indifference.

Moments later, the next exam was about to begin. He Dayou and a few of his clique strolled off toward the martial combat arena.

He was the kind of person who could write “My Father, the Board Chairman” for a grade-school essay—and mean it.

Because his father really was the board chairman of Songyang High.

Yet despite his lavish upbringing, He Dayou never felt life was easy. After all, he was only one of over thirty children.

Only by enduring countless evaluations, endless competition, and meeting every family KPI had he become one of just two high schoolers—and two cultivators—among them.

As for the rest of his mortal siblings, they had already been sent to work at his father’s company to repay their upbringing debt.

“Sure, I was born into money,” He Dayou thought, “but I got this far because of my own effort and talent.”

“My father invested in me because I earned it. So why shouldn’t I flaunt it?”

“Those poor losers whining day and night… thinking I got here just because my dad’s rich? What a childish joke.”

He’d always looked down on people who were both broke and underachieving.

And after entering Songyang High as the board chairman’s son—learning all its unspoken rules—he began to scorn even the hardworking poor.

“Good grades are temporary. These poor kids don’t even realize… they never had a chance from the moment they were born.”

“Maybe we’re not even the same species.”

With this mindset, He Dayou maintained his third-place ranking, flexed occasionally, and waited calmly for the day he’d be accepted into a top-tier university.

Until someone’s rise shattered that calm.

Watching Zhang Yu over the past half month—grinding relentlessly, spurring the whole class into a frenzy—made his stomach turn.

“This broke idiot… counting coins to pay off loans every month, running off to work after class to scrape together a few hundred in spare change, skimping on meals just to chase immortality, dreaming of getting rich and living forever overnight…”

“They have no idea who their real competition is.”

“Still jumping around in school like they’ve got a shot.”

“It’s disgusting.”

He Dayou couldn’t stand the sight of Zhang Yu’s frantic hustle, as if hard work could actually overcome the rich.

And when he heard the rumor that Zhang Yu had been accepted as a disciple by a Gold Core Cultivator, he even used his own connections to investigate.

Upon confirming it wasn’t true, his contempt reached new heights.

“Letting people believe the lie just to ride that clout?”

That’s why he planned to use the combat exam to teach this penniless fool a lesson—and remind him of his place.