No Money to Cultivate Immortality?
Chapter 79: Suppression

After defeating her powerful opponent, Bai Zhenzhen glanced around, expecting her victory over a top student from Red Tower High to make waves across the audience.

But when she looked up, she realized that almost no one was paying attention to the small corner ring she was in.

Most of the crowd had flocked to see Song Hailong, Le Mulan, and Zhang Yu—the one with that infamous 300-point score.

“Damn it!” Bai Zhenzhen cursed inwardly. “A bunch of score-blinded idiots. They wouldn’t know a real championship contender if she smacked them in the face.”

Still, she was confident that as time went on, her match’s outcome would eventually get noticed.

Elsewhere, the two other students in Bai Zhenzhen’s group had watched the entire fight with Hu Yuntao from start to finish.

They hadn’t cared much about Bai Zhenzhen—her qualifying match performance had been unimpressive. Their real focus had been on Hu Yuntao.

They never expected Hu Yuntao to inexplicably wander toward the edge of the ring, only to get sneak-attacked and flung out of bounds.

From their perspective, Bai Zhenzhen hadn’t vanished or pulled off anything mysterious.

Suddenly, they remembered how Zhang Yu had used a similar trick to knock the Yellow-Turban Enforcer out of bounds.

“Is this some new tactic developed by Songyang High?” they both wondered.

“Trickery and cheap shots—get your opponent to step out of bounds so you can win from a disadvantage?”

“Low-score students really are all the same.”

Once again, the unspoken theorem shared among the Three Great Academies rang true in their minds: Low-score kids have no class.

They looked down on her, sure—but both mentally raised their guard. If they had to face Bai Zhenzhen later, they’d be sure not to let her flip the script on them.

Just then, Bai Zhenzhen spotted Zhao Tianxing in the crowd, waving at her and giving a thumbs-up.

“Hmph, that Old Zhao.” She waved back and thought to herself, “Say what you will about low-score students—they sure know how to make you feel appreciated.”

…

In the stands.

Zhao Tianxing beamed, still holding the thumbs-up. “Ah-Zhen saw us!”

“Can you believe she beat that Red Tower High guy, Hu Yuntao, so easily?”

“I really thought he was gonna tear her apart at first.”

He Dayou remarked coolly, “Just lucky. That tiger-demon’s a classic high-score low-skill type. If even I could beat him, you know he’s overrated.”

Though Bai Zhenzhen’s earlier fight against the Yellow-Turban Enforcer had looked grueling, watching her swagger now that she’d beaten Hu Yuntao twisted He Dayou’s gut.

Qian Shen murmured, “I don’t think it was that simple.”

“Why did that tiger suddenly run to the edge of the ring, anyway?”

Just then, Zhao Tianxing pointed toward Zhang Yu. “He’s up next.”

“Good thing Yuzi and Ah-Zhen got placed in opposite brackets,” Zhao Tianxing said gratefully. “No infighting before the finals.”

He Dayou muttered, “Maybe Zhang Pianpian rigged the draw.”

He figured that as the son of a school board member, he could sometimes tweak a few matchups himself. A super-rich figure like Zhang Pianpian—net worth over 2.5 billion—definitely had the clout to pull some strings.

“Dayou, look—Zhang Yu’s opponent. Isn’t that your junior high classmate?” Qian Shen said in surprise.

He Dayou jolted and looked toward the ring.

Seeing Zhang Yu and Chu Qiuhe walk onto the stage together, He Dayou’s brow furrowed.

Zhang Yu—the poor kid who had once beaten him—was someone he definitely didn’t want to see win.

But Chu Qiuhe? A stuck-up classmate from his junior high days? He didn't care much for him either. Yet the thought of Chu Qiuhe beating a Songyang High student still made his stomach churn.

Damn it… Both of them suck. Can’t they just eliminate each other?

…

On the ring.

Chu Qiuhe strode to the center, making sure to stay away from the edge so he wouldn’t get pulled out unexpectedly.

As he moved, he could feel his blood surging, heart pounding, temples pulsing. Every fiber of his body screamed a single truth—Chu Qiuhe had taken a supplement.

He recalled what the competition coach had just told him: “This is a new combat supplement. It’ll temporarily boost your muscle strength and stamina, raising your physical strength to a 2.2.”

Chu Qiuhe hesitated. “Is that really necessary?”

The coach replied, “Zhang Yu’s numbers are all worse than yours, but he’s skilled in martial arts and crafty with tactics. And come on—do you think schools like his wouldn’t use performance-enhancers too?”

Now, standing in the ring, he felt the drug coursing through him, riling up every vein and tendon. Chu Qiuhe had never felt this powerful.

“This new stuff hits hard!”

“Screw your tactics. I’ll crush you with raw strength!”

With the countdown—3, 2, 1—

Chu Qiuhe pounced like a beast, leaving an afterimage behind.

Boom!

He punched forward, exuding a wild, explosive aura, like a truck barreling down the highway straight at Zhang Yu.

Expert-Grade Martial Technique—Truck Charge Fist! Level 2 Drive!

Once, ancient martial artists had crafted techniques by observing birds and beasts, rivers and mountains.

Now, masters created modern styles by studying highways and skyscrapers.

Truck Charge Fist was born from a martial expert who spent three months watching trucks at a highway overpass, absorbing the essence of their unstoppable momentum, fusing it into a technique embodying the rampage of hundred-ton semis.

As a strength-based body-refining fighter, Chu Qiuhe had chosen this art specifically to leverage his power.

Now, executing a full-powered Level 2 Truck Charge Fist, he really looked like a thundering, hundred-ton truck, shaking the ring as he charged toward Zhang Yu.

“He has only one option against this…” Chu Qiuhe thought.

With Zhang Yu’s build, there was no way he could take it head-on. Dodging was his only move.

But the Truck Charge Fist had a follow-up technique meant to counter evasions.

“When he dodges, I’ll use the ‘Truck Pivot’ to chase him, angling my momentum into a sharp, high-speed turn. That’ll stack more force into the next blow.”

“I’ll knock him out of bounds in one punch!”

But just then, Chu Qiuhe was shocked to see Zhang Yu strike back head-on with a palm glowing with white Martial Qi.

Boom!

Chu Qiuhe’s punch crashed into the Formless Cloud Qi—and Zhang Yu instantly felt a stampede of wild boars surging through the Qi, tearing at it, trying to smash him away.

Celestial Martial Heart-Forging Technique, Level 10 Effect—Full Concentration!

Everything around him seemed to slow.

Watching Chu Qiuhe’s punch sink inch by inch into the Formless Cloud Qi, Zhang Yu could clearly trace the force vectors and started subtly stirring the Qi, guiding the attack’s path…

Pow!

Chu Qiuhe felt like he’d struck a slick rubber ball—his punch veered off course, missing Zhang Yu entirely.

But with a roar, he halted the swing mid-motion through sheer muscle control and launched a second punch.

Pow!

That one got redirected too, leaving his guard wide open—Zhang Yu darted in under his arms.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

Three quick punches landed on Chu Qiuhe’s chest, ribs, and abdomen.

Roaring in fury, the supplement dulled all pain for Chu Qiuhe—he just felt heat flooding his veins. He lunged forward, trying to grab Zhang Yu in a bear hug.

“With my strength, I only need one good grab to end it…”

But Zhang Yu seemed to predict the move, narrowly dodging the grab at the last possible moment.

Chu Qiuhe swung again—redirected. Another punch to his chest.

“Damn it… just one punch!”

“With this much power, if I can get past his Qi and land one clean hit, I’ll destroy him!”

He could feel it—one solid hit and the fight was his.

Chu Qiuhe roared, unleashing a whirlwind of furious strikes.

But he was the one being overwhelmed.

Zhang Yu danced like a winged rubber ball—slipping past grapples by millimeters, neutralizing punches with Formless Cloud Qi.

“I’m the one getting hit…”

“Am I… the one being suppressed?”

“He’s using pure technique… to suppress my superior strength, speed, and stamina?”

Chu Qiuhe reeled in disbelief—then took a direct shot to the gut, the Formless Cloud Qi hammering his abdomen.

This time, though the pain still didn’t register, he suddenly felt his stamina falter. His whole body seized up for a moment.

“Shit… I think my organs are bleeding.”

And Zhang Yu didn’t miss that opening.

Upper abdomen… chest… shoulder… waist…

Zhang Yu pounded Chu Qiuhe with blow after blow—every place the body tried to rally from was struck down again.

Chu Qiuhe felt like a giant sandbag, helpless under the storm of fists.

At last, he collapsed.

“I… I lost?”

“Lost to a student outside the Three Great Academies?”

Humiliation flooded him—he could already see his status plummeting at White Dragon High School, students laughing, peers mocking, enslaved by shame.

He wanted to hurl himself off the 30th floor of the school building—

And promptly fainted from fear.

Zhang Yu is victorious!