No Money to Cultivate Immortality?
Chapter 92: Side Hustle and Social Media

“Lie down.”

Hearing Song Hailong’s words, Zhang Yu turned to Bai Zhenzhen beside him. “Lie down? My job scope is that broad? Is earning five grand really this hard?”

Song Hailong rolled his neck and said, “I meant hurry up and get ready. We’re going straight into ground combat.”

“I lost to you in this aspect. Naturally, I’m paying so I can win it back.”

As he spoke, Song Hailong walked over to a panel on the wall and asked, “What scent do you prefer?”

Zhang Yu glanced at the panel, assuming it controlled the air conditioning. “You mean the air con scent? Air freshener?”

Song Hailong sighed. “I meant the Neuro-Stim scent. I’m partial to peach or mint…”

Seeing Zhang Yu’s blank expression, Song Hailong remembered he was from Songyang High and waved it off. “Forget it, mint it is.”

As he tapped a few buttons, a minty aroma began to drift through the room. Zhang Yu could feel his blood start to flow faster, his senses sharpening with growing excitement.

Pointing to a nearby faucet, Song Hailong added, “The right pipe dispenses Energy Tonic. If you start running low, drink from that.”

Zhang Yu was speechless. “So the air’s laced with stimulants and the water’s basically Red Bull? Damn… rich people.”

Seeing his look of disbelief, Song Hailong said with a hint of pride, “Don’t be surprised. After all, White Dragon High is known as the place where potions and syringes flow like water. Even the shower runoff tests positive for Mind-Stabilizers.”

“A few years back, some poor folks tried sneaking into our sewers to steal the wastewater from the school—figuring they could drink it and become cultivators.”

“Some did get healthier, but others overdosed and died. They got caught eventually.”

Zhang Yu was dumbfounded. “So these mortals were stealing literal Immortal Wastewater?”

Curious, he asked, “What kind of water did they steal?”

Song Hailong laughed. “Stuff from the bathrooms, showers—drainage still containing trace amounts of various alchemical residues. That’s what those lowlifes were after.”

Zhang Yu asked, “At least they caught them, right? No more victims?”

Song Hailong nodded with a smile. “Yeah. After that, the school just started selling the sewer runoff to poor folks. Haven’t had a theft since.”

Zhang Yu was at a loss. So in White Dragon High’s eyes, they were the only victims here?

Shaking his head, he started warming up.

After a bit, Song Hailong laid out the training rules.

As soon as he started talking combat, his grin vanished, replaced with a grim seriousness. “No lethal force. If you can get control over me, you win.”

“If the fight drags on and you’re no longer at your peak, but I still haven’t subdued you—that’s my loss.”

“If I manage to control you, I win.”

“If you don’t beat me even once in the next two hours, training’s over. No point coming back.”

Zhang Yu understood. Song Hailong wanted a clean win, one-on-one, while Zhang Yu was still at full power.

Then he turned to Bai Zhenzhen. “As for you, either spar with me or give useful feedback from the side.”

“But if you can’t beat me, or if your advice is worthless, you don’t need to come anymore either.”

Zhang Yu stepped forward, and in the blink of an eye, they were grappling on the ground again.

Their hands clashed, locked, twisted—both using the Dragon-Subduing Grapple to counter and shift, each trying to pin the other.

Zhang Yu had already pushed the Dragon-Subduing Grapple to Level 10.

Even though he kept his output at Level 2, his comprehension of grappling and throws had far surpassed Song Hailong’s.

Especially since Zhang Yu had begun blending the Dragon-Subduing Grapple with the Formless Cloud Qi of Infinite Cloudhands, using qi to enhance his joint locks and takedowns.

To Song Hailong, it felt like every move was being pre-read. That white qi not only neutralized his strength but also mirrored the same grappling techniques.

So… from the very start, Song Hailong was on the back foot, relying solely on brute strength to break Zhang Yu’s holds.

He was stunned. “This Zhang Yu… his technique is leagues above yesterday’s.”

“How could he improve this much in just a day?”

A realization hit him. “This guy must’ve been grinding the Dragon-Subduing Grapple like crazy after yesterday’s match… just to beat me again now.”

Why would he think that?

Because Song Hailong had done the exact same thing.

Since the previous match, he’d been hunting for sparring partners, skipping proper meals and injecting nutrition directly into his bloodstream—all to quickly close the technique gap.

Now, sensing Zhang Yu’s improvement, he thought, “So we had the same idea? No wonder he beat me once.”

Unwilling to lose, Song Hailong’s blood surged. Waves of qi flooded into his limbs, empowering his body with explosive strength as he forced his way out of Zhang Yu’s holds.

To him, it felt like being dragged into a stormy ocean. Zhang Yu’s hands were undertows, and that qi like wave after wave, pulling him down.

To Zhang Yu, it felt like wrestling a berserk dragon. Even when bound in chains, it kept breaking free through sheer brute force.

As for Song Hailong’s technique?

Zhang Yu thought, “Progress? Maybe, but the gap’s still too wide for me to notice.”

On the sidelines, Bai Zhenzhen watched with awe. “One has the ultimate physical advantage. The other, absolute technique.”

“Song Hailong’s attacks keep getting countered by Zhang Yu’s skill.”

“Zhang Yu’s moves keep getting broken by Song Hailong’s brute strength.”

She frowned. “No ring, no out-of-bounds rules today. Yuzi can’t win by tactics. He’ll probably have to fight until he’s completely spent.”

Sure enough, about three minutes in, Song Hailong suddenly stopped. “Your strength is waning. You’re not at peak anymore. I lose this round. Rest up before the next.”

While they rested, Bai Zhenzhen began analyzing the bout and pointing out flaws in both of their styles.

Song Hailong initially dismissed her, but soon found himself listening intently. His gaze shifted—she wasn’t just a tagalong anymore.

During the break, Zhang Yu curiously turned on the faucet and took a few sips of the Energy Tonic. At once, it felt like a fire lit up in his gut, and his stamina recovered rapidly.

“This stuff’s amazing.”

He made a mental note—next time he came to White Dragon High, he’d bring a bucket.

The sparring resumed—on and off, round after round. Most bouts ended with Zhang Yu exhausting his stamina. He only managed to win once by locking down Song Hailong’s joints.

Rubbing his sore hands, Zhang Yu thought, “He said he lost, but in a real fight, I’d be the one going down from exhaustion.”

“This guy’s just too tanky. Without ring-out rules, beating him before I burn out is near impossible.”

“I really do need to boost my physical strength.”

Right then, Zhang Yu grew more eager than ever to toughen his body.

Before they left, Song Hailong transferred the payment to both of them. Then he looked at Zhang Yu seriously.

“I’m not going to stop building my physique just because we’re training.”

“Two months from now, when the athletics competition starts, my body’s going to be over Level 4.0.”

“So… keep up. Otherwise, the gap’ll be too big, and training together won’t make sense anymore.”

As soon as they stepped outside White Dragon High, Bai Zhenzhen grabbed Zhang Yu and sprinted toward the subway.

Zhang Yu asked, “Ah Zhen, what’s the rush?”

Bai Zhenzhen replied, “I drank too much Energy Tonic! I need to pee!”

“Stupid White Dragon High—charging ten bucks to use the bathroom. I’ve been holding it in this whole time!”

…

While Zhang Yu and Song Hailong were grappling…

Inside a quiet chamber at Purple Cloud High.

Le Mulan slowly deactivated the Purple Saint Mind Technique running through her consciousness, trying her best to suppress thoughts like “the rich are pure, wise, kind, and strong; the poor are filthy, stupid, evil, and weak.”

Thanks to that cultivation method, just glancing at her bank balance or stock gains would put her mind at ease. The higher the numbers, the smoother the flow of qi, the stronger her Dao Heart, and the calmer her spirit.

But the downside was… her disgust toward poverty—and poor people—only grew stronger.

It hadn’t bothered her before. Poverty? Just throw money at it and move on.

Until she faced Zhang Yu in the ring.

Taking a deep breath, she opened Zhang Yu’s social media page.

She steeled herself: “A poor guy’s timeline… here I come.”

The first thing she saw was a selfie of Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen standing in front of White Dragon High’s main gate.

The caption read: “Back at White Dragon High! Song Hailong, top of the first-year class, invited us to help with training. If anyone else needs guidance, feel free to reach out!”

“Song Hailong actually paid poor Zhang Yu for coaching?”

Le Mulan’s eyes lit up. “He turned down forty grand but agreed to this?”