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No Money to Cultivate Immortality?
Spirit-root transplants come with payment plans, breathing techniques are locked behind paywalls, and your first meridian won’t open unless you swipe a “QiCard.”
That’s the brutal marketplace Zhang Yu wakes up to after his soul is shoved into the body of a penniless high-schooler—one already drowning in soul-devouring debt.
With only thirty days before the collectors start carving repayments from his flesh, Zhang Yu must monetize every heartbeat just to stay alive.
He livestreams back-alley sparring matches, peddles black-market talismans between classes, and negotiates mid-fight sponsorship deals to afford tomorrow’s cultivation pills.
Yet the higher he claws—from broke freshman to headline-making “High-School Saint”—the more he uncovers the engines grinding his classmates into golden dust: predatory fintech sects, exam-hall death matches, and an influencer economy that feeds on shattered dreams.
If you’ve ever felt the squeeze of tuition bills or the rush of a last-second power-up, Zhang Yu’s frantic hustle through monetized immortality will feel all too hilariously—and terrifyingly—familiar.
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Original description:
Elder: “Do you seek revenge?”
Young Man: “I've been repeatedly humiliated by powerful cultivators, treated as trash by my Master. How could I not want revenge?”
The Elder patted the Young Man's head and sighed, “Good child, I shall impart cultivation to you."
The Young Man gasped, “Senior! How can this be?”
The Elder extended his hand: “Give me your phone.”
The Young Man watched the changes on his phone, shocked: “Senior! Where did this hundred years of cultivation come from?”
The Elder smiled faintly: “Good child, this is your reserve cultivation from the Heavenly Court. You can draw upon it instantly whenever needed, so you'll never be insulted again.”
The Young Man frowned: “Isn't this... a Mana Loan? I'm afraid”
Elder: “The Heavenly Court is a major platform. New users borrowing 100 years of cultivation get 30 days interest-free, and the daily interest is as low as half a day's cultivation—less than a full cycle of your meditation!”
...
Zhang Yu snorted coldly and closed the advertisement above.
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