The Martial Arts Combat Tournament had ended several days ago, and at last, Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen were booked for an ad—a group commercial featuring multiple competition participants.

Walking down the street, Zhang Yu couldn't help but ask, “Did you hear what Song Hailong said yesterday? Why did he get a solo ad when he only came in third? All we got was some group shoot.”

Bai Zhenzhen curled her lip. “I asked around. It’s basically because… we’re halfway through the school year. In another six months, we’ll be sophomores.”

“People are afraid we’ll crash and burn, so no one wants to risk hiring us for solo spots.”

Zhang Yu was baffled. “Crash and burn? How would we even crash and burn? They think we’re going to toy with our fans?”

Bai Zhenzhen shot him a look like he was an idiot. “What are you talking about? Playing with fans isn’t even that serious. They’re worried we’ll bomb academically once we hit sophomore year. After all, we’re broke.”

Zhang Yu immediately understood. So a Kunxu academic scandal meant dropping grades. Makes sense.

But then he got annoyed. “So poor kids are just doomed to crash and burn in sophomore year?”

“We’re already dirt poor, and it’s still harder for us to earn money than it is for someone like Song Hailong. He gets a personal endorsement, and we get squat.”

“Then why even let us shoot the group ad? Aren’t they worried we’ll crash and burn in that too?”

Bai Zhenzhen gave him a look of pure pity. “You dummy. In a group ad, if we crash and burn, they can just edit us out.”

Over half an hour later, the two arrived at the studio and found it already bustling with familiar faces from the Three Great Academies.

But at the moment, most eyes were subtly glancing at one particular boy—surrounded by more than ten staffers.

Bai Zhenzhen raised an eyebrow. “Who’s that? That’s some serious entourage.”

Zhang Yu was curious too. “Wasn’t this supposed to be for the top eight from the Martial Arts Tournament? I don’t think he’s even one of them.”

Lian Tianji popped up behind them. “That’s Yu Xinghan. Xinghuo Zhenren’s final disciple. Found him in another city. He’s supposed to transfer to White Dragon High soon.”

The boy stood at the center like the sun, ringed by assistants, makeup artists, and the director himself. Bai Zhenzhen’s eyes gleamed. “Xinghuo Zhenren? You mean the downgraded Gold Core Cultivator?”

Lian Tianji nodded. “According to Xinghuo Zhenren, this Yu Xinghan is his final disciple and will inherit his entire legacy and estate. He’s supposedly a shoo-in for valedictorian of Songyang City.”

“Because of his title as a Gold Core Disciple and that glowing praise, Xianyun Group pulled him in for the commercial.”

“Look at Song Hailong. Heh… his eyes are practically shooting sparks. Yu Xinghan’s gonna be transferring into his school, so they’ll be fighting over the number one spot.”

Zhang Yu glanced at Song Hailong and found him looking like a cornered tabby—arched back, fluffed-up fur, eyes locked on Yu Xinghan with full alertness.

Zhang Yu’s eyes lit up. “So that means Yu Xinghan is going to enter the next tournament too, right?”

Lian Tianji nodded. “Of course. He’s a strong contender for champion in the next athletic meet.” There was even a flicker of battle-lust in his gaze as he looked at Yu Xinghan.

While the three chatted, someone was watching them silently.

The observer was none other than Le Mulan from Purple Cloud High.

Originally, Le Mulan hadn’t cared much about a shoot like this. But one, Yu Xinghan intrigued her as a Gold Core Disciple. And two… Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen—two of the only broke kids in the competition circle—would be here.

Watching the pair, Le Mulan thought to herself, “I’ve been seeing his Moments photos every day. Honestly, I don’t find them as gross as I used to. This might be a good chance to get closer.”

But the moment she imagined getting near Zhang Yu, her mind flashed back to when he’d been bleeding all over her—hot, filthy, sticky blood soaking through her clothes. She shuddered involuntarily.

“Forget it, I’ll start small.”

“Besides, once we start filming, we’ll have to stand near each other anyway.”

So she just kept quietly observing, her eyes roaming toward the two of them again and again.

…

The shoot featured the tournament contestants promoting Xianyun Group’s tutoring program.

During the shoot, people constantly approached Yu Xinghan, trying to network or add him as a contact. Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen got a real taste of just how red-hot a Gold Core Disciple’s popularity could be.

Naturally, Yu Xinghan took center stage in the ad. The rest of the contestants were positioned around him like leaves around a flower.

Zhang Yu, Le Mulan, and Song Hailong—ranked top three—were leaves beside the flower. Bai Zhenzhen, fourth place, was more like a stem buried beneath the leaves. And poor Lian Tianji, even further down the rankings, was basically the dirt the flower grew from.

According to the director, they were going to plaster “Final Disciple of a Gold Core Cultivator” across the screen. He was clearly the absolute star.

During filming, Zhang Yu started to notice that Le Mulan was acting weird—sometimes taking deep breaths, sometimes trembling. He couldn’t help asking, “What are you doing?”

Le Mulan flinched and backed up a step. “I… it’s nothing. None of your business.”

Zhang Yu mentally called her a lunatic and ignored her.

Le Mulan covered her nose and muttered to herself, “He smells terrible… Is this what Mom meant by that subway smell poor people have?”

“But this was totally worth it. I’m starting to get used to it.”

After four long hours, the shoot finally wrapped. Zhang Yu walked away with 30,000 yuan. Bai Zhenzhen got 8,000. They each headed home.

But no sooner had Zhang Yu gotten home than his 30,000 was spent—turned into a Hunyuan Pill, which he swallowed in one go.

As its violent medicinal energy surged through his limbs, Zhang Yu quickly began cultivating Crimson Marrow Primordial Energy.

As the power spread through every muscle, organ, and bone, his body soaked it up like rain after a drought. While he circulated his Crimson Marrow Primordial Energy, his body frantically absorbed every ounce.

Only after half an hour did the pill’s effects begin to fade.

But Zhang Yu knew it hadn’t truly disappeared—it had just been drawn into his muscles, organs, and bones.

Though he didn’t feel physically stronger yet, he was brimming with power, every fiber of him crackling with energy.

He knew that over the next few days, as he kept cultivating Crimson Marrow Primordial Energy, that stored force would keep enhancing his body.

Without wasting a second, he resumed training immediately.

All through the night, Zhang Yu pushed his body to the brink—training until he collapsed, then jumping back up the moment the ritual nudged him to continue.

Through this hellish routine, his body strength rose from 1.67 to 1.70.

“Damn good pill. Worth every penny.”

…

Over the next few days, Zhang Yu seized every spare second to keep cultivating Crimson Marrow Primordial Energy, trying to squeeze every last drop of strength out of the pill before it ran out.

Sometimes he couldn’t help but reflect: “Kunxu, you really turn people into monsters. I’m actually grinding on my own now. Haven’t heard the ritual whining in three days.”

And indeed, with ten-level Crimson Marrow Primordial Energy in full swing—something only third-year geniuses were supposed to pull off—his body was advancing by leaps and bounds.

Like a max-level player back in the beginner zone, Zhang Yu’s progress was blazing fast.

In just three days, his body strength jumped from 1.70 to 1.87.

Now standing in class, feeling the last of the pill’s energy ebb away, Zhang Yu could only sigh, thirsting for money more than ever.

“In Kunxu… you really can’t live without cash.”

Just then, the voice of Lei Jun, his Practical Combat instructor, snapped him out of his thoughts.

“Zhang Yu. He Dayou. You’re paired up for sparring.”

Zhang Yu blinked. He was usually paired with Bai Zhenzhen for combat class. Why He Dayou this time?

King versus scrub? What was Old Lei thinking?

Lei Jun’s reasoning was simple: he wanted Zhang Yu to knock some sense into He Dayou, who’d gotten way too cocky in class lately.

“Relying on his surging physical strength to bulldoze through everything, totally ignoring all the techniques I’ve taught.”

So Lei Jun dispatched his best man—Zhang Yu—to teach the boy a lesson on the importance of skill.

He Dayou scowled as he stepped forward, thinking, “With the body implants and adaptation training I’ve done lately, my strength should be way above his now. But this guy’s battle skills are a pain…”

As he weighed his options, Zhang Yu struck first with an open palm.

Instinctively, He Dayou raised an arm to block—only to find Zhang Yu gripping it and engaging in a contest of raw strength.

“What the—!” He Dayou was shocked, then thrilled. “You dare test strength against me?”

He lunged with his other hand, and the two locked grips. Mana surged and both unleashed the power within.

He Dayou roared and tried to hoist Zhang Yu up and toss him out of the ring.

But the next moment, he realized Zhang Yu’s hands were immovable, like stone.

No matter how much force he poured in… they didn’t budge.