After exchanging greetings, Wu Qingqing picked up her phone and pointed the screen toward Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen.
A flicker of light passed across the screen, and a cartoon-styled teenager appeared. She introduced, “This is Mo Tianyi from Mangshan High.”
Zhang Yu's heart skipped a beat. What the—an anime avatar?
The boy nodded toward Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen. “Hello, I'm Mo Tianyi.”
“I’ve already scanned the area. It’s safe to talk here.”
Zhang Yu looked curiously at the screen. “Where are you right now?”
Mo Tianyi smiled slightly. “I’m currently in the Spiritual Realm. But it’s connected to the internet, so I can still contact you.”
Then his expression turned serious. “Zhang Yu, I need to ask—have you been taken in as a disciple by Xinghuo Zhenren?”
Just as Zhang Yu opened his mouth, Bai Zhenzhen stepped forward and cut him off, standing protectively in front of him. “He hasn’t.”
Zhang Yu looked at Bai Zhenzhen in surprise, unsure why she said that. But trusting Ah-Zhen, he stayed silent and listened.
Both Wu Qingqing and Mo Tianyi on the screen showed a flash of disappointment.
Wu Qingqing couldn’t help saying, “How could you let Zhang Yu pass up that chance? If he wants to make it into the Ten Great Academies, Xinghuo Zhenren would’ve been a huge help.”
Bai Zhenzhen scoffed. “A washed-up old man kicked out of a major sect, half his cultivation stripped, probably one divorce away from getting blasted by his daughter for gold coins. Might as well set up shop under a bridge. How much could he even have left for us to take? Better to keep grinding odd jobs than sell yourself to him.”
“You…” Mo Tianyi sighed. In hindsight, he regretted urging Bai Zhenzhen to attend that art exhibition. If he hadn’t, maybe Zhang Yu really would’ve become a Gold Core disciple. That would’ve meant one more poor student with a real shot at breaking into the top.
Bai Zhenzhen went on, “I came to talk today to introduce Zhang Yu to your group.”
“He’s a bit behind me, sure, but he’s still a rare talent. Now that the Student Council’s watching him too…”
Mo Tianyi's screen refreshed as he composed himself and smiled. “I’ve heard of Zhang Yu’s talent for a while now.”
“Looks like the Law Tournament will give me a chance to see it firsthand.”
“That’s it?” Bai Zhenzhen frowned. “No real investment?”
Mo Tianyi gave a helpless look. “We’re all broke. Resources are tight, and most of them go to the big guy. I don’t have much to offer.”
“But here’s something small from me.” He transferred 2,000 yuan to Bai Zhenzhen.
Zhang Yu watched, thinking: So Ah-Zhen brought me here to fundraise?
But this so-called “Alliance of the Resentful Poor” seems broke as hell. They can’t even fork over a decent sum.
Seeing the transfer, Bai Zhenzhen frowned. “Only 2,000?”
She knew exactly who “the big guy” was: the most promising talent among the poor—best grades, best potential, everyone betting on him to crack the barrier and get into the Ten Great Academies.
That genius had earned their trust. They scraped together what little they had to support him, all in hopes that if he made it into a top school and joined a major sect, he’d lift them up with him—crack the Heavenly Net hanging over Songyang City.
Even the time they brought Bai Zhenzhen to the art show, she suspected it was to help that “big guy” indirectly, in case she became a Gold Core disciple.
She said coldly, “I thought we agreed on solidarity and shared roots. But all I hear is talk. I paid my dues, didn’t I?”
Mo Tianyi gave a bitter smile. Her 2,000-yuan “membership fee” was nothing compared to how much they had already spent on her.
If not for her extraordinary talent, they wouldn’t have invested so heavily—thinking she could help draw attention away from the big guy.
The mood grew tense. Wu Qingqing tried to defuse it with a smile. “Don’t be upset, Zhenzhen. This is a critical time for the boss. Mo Tianyi controls the funds, but he still needs approval from the upperclassmen to disburse more.”
“How about this—if Zhang Yu scores well in the Law Tournament, Tianyi can talk to them. That way, the money will be justified.”
Eventually, Bai Zhenzhen pulled Zhang Yu away from the stands.
Watching them leave, Wu Qingqing sighed. “Zhenzhen only ever comes to us for money. She treats us like ATMs.”
Mo Tianyi replied, “But she’s the one among us who believes most firmly in getting into the Ten Great Academies. That’s why she fights so hard for funding.”
He added, “I just didn’t expect her to bring Zhang Yu along this time.”
Speaking of Zhang Yu, Wu Qingqing said, “Seventy-point jump in a month—he’s seriously impressive. Worth investing in.”
But Mo Tianyi shook his head. “If he were rich, that performance would definitely be enough to make him a contender.”
“Unfortunately… he’s not.”
He sighed. “If a poor student wants to break through the skies above, test scores alone aren’t nearly enough… not nearly enough.”
Behind Wu Qingqing, Ye Xianyun silently read her book, as if nothing in the world concerned her.
Elsewhere, as they walked, Bai Zhenzhen said to Zhang Yu, “Yuzi, the Law Tournament’s about to start. Don’t embarrass me out there!”
“At least get top ten. I need the leverage to demand more money from them.”
Come on… You seemed pretty bold asking for cash just now.
Zhang Yu thought for a moment and asked what had been on his mind: “Aside from pooling money, does the Poor Alliance have any other strategy for getting into the Ten Great Academies?”
In his eyes, a few broke students scrimping and saving—even if they were all top-tier talents—still seemed far from enough to break the rich kids’ monopoly.
Bai Zhenzhen replied, “That’s what I want to find out from them.”
“From what I know, their ‘big guy’ is a junior at one of the three top schools.”
“I don’t know how, but he’s managed to avoid signing with any school or Student Council. No joint suppression. Still holds full exam eligibility.”
“I want to know how he pulled that off.”
“The only way seems to be increasing our say in the alliance until we meet him—and then get him to spill his method.”
Zhang Yu asked, “How do we increase our say?”
Bai Zhenzhen answered like it was obvious: “We’re students. Power comes from scores! Competitions! Achievements!”
“Whether you’re rich or poor, it’s the same. They invest in whoever performs.”
“I’m just not good at this Law Tournament stuff. So it’s all on you now.”
Not long after they returned to Songyang High’s rest area, Zhang Yu noticed someone in the stands.
He saw Liang Qin waving at him like a supportive spectator. Zhang Yu nodded back, confused.
What the hell? You followed me all the way to Red Tower High just to watch?
Dude, you okay? You're creeping me out. I won’t dare turn my back on you anymore.
Liang Qin, meanwhile, glanced at Zhang Yu in the rest area with a faint smile. Then he took out his phone, opened a betting app, and prepared to place a wager.
Gambling, after all, was a beloved pastime for the citizens of Songyang City.
This platform, endorsed by the deputy mayor himself, covered everything imaginable—including high school competitions.
He’d taken time off to “watch the match” mainly to track Zhang Yu and make a quick buck.
Seeing the Law Tournament listed, he couldn’t resist betting.
At the same time, Zhang Yu saw a flyer fluttering down nearby.
“Why just compete? Bet on it! New users get a 100-yuan bonus…”
Zhang Yu felt speechless. Gambling ads right here at the competition? Everyone’s betting and I’m the only one staying clean?
Bai Zhenzhen snatched the flyer and warned him sternly, “Yuzi, don’t even think about it.”
Zhang Yu said, “I think I’ve got a good shot at top ten. If I bet on myself—”
Bai Zhenzhen cut him off. “How much would you bet? What if you lose?”
Zhang Yu replied, “I’ve got a high chance of winning—”
She interrupted again. “Then it’s even worse. If you win, your whole view of money will shift. Because you’ve tasted success, you’ll keep chasing that win.”
As a local, Bai Zhenzhen had seen far too many people fall into that trap.
Even immortals had been bankrupted, according to some reports.
She continued, “I’m scared you’ll get hooked and gamble yourself away.”
“Yuzi, seriously. Don’t.”
With a small tremor of her palm, she shattered the flyer into dust.
Zhang Yu took a deep breath and activated the Desolate Ox Soul-Suppressing Heart Method, calming the restless thoughts in his mind. “You’re right, Ah-Zhen. I got greedy. This isn’t something I should touch.”
He understood the logic. But the crushing financial pressure had made him momentarily waver.
Moments later, music blared across the venue—the Law Tournament was officially underway.
Drones controlled by Soul Cultivation Students flew in, delivering the items needed for the competition.
As they watched each item being placed on the field, gasps erupted from the crowd.
“Are we going to ride swords? They’re starting with that? That’s way too hard!”
“They’ve never tested flying swords in a competition before!”
“I’m screwed—I’ve never even used one!”
The host approached a floating flying sword and announced:
“From the Nine Heavens, swordlight descends—one strike shakes Kunxu! Special thanks to the sword-happy folks at Nine Heavens Flying Sword for sponsoring today’s Law Tournament.”
Zhang Yu cursed internally. A flying sword company sponsors the event, so you make flying swords the first challenge? Have you no shame?
What if the Hehuan Sect sponsors next time—are we doing dual cultivation trials then? I dare you to go there!