The stationery shop near Songyang High sold everything a student needed. Pens. Paper. Notebooks. And behind the counter, a glass cabinet like a pharmacy — rows of pills, vials, and injectables lined up by grade and effect. Calming agents. Stimulants. Focus compounds.
Zhang Yu leaned on the counter. "Boss. Got any Neural Filler?"
The shopkeeper scrolled his phone without looking up. "Expensive or cheap?"
"I'm a student. Can you give me the expensive one at a student price?"
The man finally raised his head. Squinted.
Zhang Yu didn't blink. "I'm a freshman in Elite Class. Ranked top ten in the year. Campus celebrity. If your product works for me, every classmate will follow me here."
The shopkeeper's mouth twitched. He dug a box from the cabinet and slapped it down. "Ziyun Company Neural Filler. Twenty minutes of sleep per day, guaranteed. Five hundred a box. I'll give you four-eighty."
Zhang Yu picked up the box, examined it. "Anything free with it?"
The man frowned. Pulled out a few painkillers. "These. Free."
Zhang Yu pocketed the painkillers, grinned. "Thanks, boss. Actually, can I skip the Neural Filler?"
The shopkeeper's face went dark.
"Just kidding." Zhang Yu scanned the payment code. Four hundred eighty gone. Account balance: one thousand seven hundred and change.
*Painful. But necessary.*
He'd decided to enter the Mana Competition. That meant no sleep for a week. Every hour poured into the Heavenly Circuit Qi Gathering Method.
*My target isn't just top ten. It's first place. One hundred thousand yuan.*
---
Zhao Tianxing slipped into the stationery shop, watching Zhang Yu walk out with a bag.
*Neural Filler? Is that what he's using?*
He followed at a distance. Block after block. Around a corner — and found Zhang Yu standing there, waiting for him.
"Hi... Zhang Yu." Zhao Tianxing fumbled. "What a coincidence. You walk this way too?"
"Why are you following me?"
Zhao Tianxing scratched his head. "Following you? I walk home this way."
"Look at yourself." Zhang Yu gestured at him. "Over two meters tall. Three hundred pounds. I saw you at the cafeteria. What do you want?"
He couldn't exactly say *Wang Hai sent me to find your drug supplier.* So he improvised.
"You're... really impressive, Zhang Yu. I want to learn from you. Follow you. Study how you do things."
*This kid's social skills stopped developing in elementary school,* Zhang Yu thought.
"Fine. Buy me fried chicken and you can tag along."
The Ritual's countdown pulsed. He needed to keep moving.
"Let's walk and talk."
Zhao Tianxing trailed behind him, conflicted. "Fried chicken? That's terrible for body cultivation. Teacher Wang says we shouldn't—"
"Don't worry. I'm eating it. You're buying."
The thought of fried chicken made Zhang Yu's mouth water. Since arriving in this world, every meal had been the cheapest cafeteria slop — healthy, austere, joyless. He hadn't tasted anything fried in weeks. The pressure of relentless cultivation had been building in his chest like steam in a sealed pot. No downtime. No luxuries. Not a single yuan spent on comfort.
Fried chicken. Just the thought loosened something in him.
---
They rode the subway. Zhao Tianxing watched Zhang Yu sit down, close his eyes, and start meditating in the restaurant. Waiting.
"You want me to buy the chicken? You're staying here?"
The Ritual's countdown nagged. Zhang Yu couldn't afford to linger.
"Get me a combo meal. I'll wait."
Zhao Tianxing stood in line, confused. When he returned, Zhang Yu was sitting cross-legged on the floor, eyes shut, circulating mana.
"Let's go." Zhang Yu grabbed the bag and walked out, eating as he went.
Zhao Tianxing followed, increasingly baffled. *He meditates during line waits but eats fried chicken. What kind of person is this?*
They reached a plaza. Zhang Yu found a clean patch of ground, sat down, and started the Heavenly Circuit Qi Gathering Method. He waved Zhao Tianxing off.
"One fried chicken doesn't buy conversation. I'm working and cultivating. Do what you want."
"You're... working?" Zhao Tianxing looked around. Dirty pavement. A stinking drain nearby. A barbershop blasting music across the street. Hard-faced job seekers scattered across the square.
"You're meditating HERE?"
But Zhang Yu had already gone still. Completely still.
Zhao Tianxing crouched nearby and watched. Thirty minutes. Zhang Yu didn't move. An hour. Zhao Tianxing got up, stretched, walked around. Zhang Yu hadn't shifted. Two hours. Zhao Tianxing gave up on meditation and started practicing the Body-Forging 36 Forms instead.
Throughout, Zhang Yu sat like a stone. No scratching. No fidgeting. His breathing never changed rhythm. His eyelids never flickered.
*Incredible focus,* Zhao Tianxing thought. *No wonder he has zero Distraction Rate.*
*But there's no Spirit Root here. No high-energy environment. No drugs. The efficiency must be terrible. Is this really worth it?*
**Heavenly Circuit Qi Gathering Method Lv. 4 (12/80)**
Then a van pulled into the plaza. The driver called for security workers. Zhang Yu's heart stirred — but no, security work favored the older, tougher crowd. He wasn't competitive.
But then the requirements changed. Young. Good build. Clean-cut. Attractive.
Zhang Yu's eyes snapped open. He strode toward the van, hand raised, radiating confidence.
"I'm your man."
The driver's eyes lit up. He walked straight past Zhang Yu and grabbed Zhao Tianxing's hand.
"Perfect. Just perfect."
He patted Zhao Tianxing's chest, his waist, his back. "This frame. This proportion. Raw jade, limitless potential. Absolute strength isn't there yet, but the foundation — magnificent."
"To build this without relentless training, extreme discipline, a master's guidance, and maximum pharmaceutical support? Impossible."
"You. Eight hundred an hour. Let's go."
Zhang Yu stood frozen. His lean, wiry physique. His striking, cold-featured face. His otherworldly aura. All of it — ignored.
"Boss. Look at me. I can do it too."
The driver looked at him. Shook his head. "Too skinny. Can't project security. You'd block half a flying sword compared to him."
"I'm not actually here to—" Zhao Tianxing started.
Zhang Yu cut him off. "We're blood brothers. Sworn oath — one job or a hundred, we go together."
The driver frowned. Weighed them both. "Four hundred an hour for you. Six hours total. Deal?"
"Yes. Yes. Yes."
Zhao Tianxing was dragged toward the van. "Zhang Yu, I didn't come here to work. And if I'm late, my mom will—"
"You had something to discuss with me, right? Come work with me. We can talk about whatever you want."
Zhao Tianxing looked at his phone — Wang Hai's message glowing on screen. He weighed his assignment against Zhang Yu's grip on his arm.
"I need to call my mom."
The van drove them toward the city center. The driver explained on the way.
"Ms. Li Xuelian is holding an art exhibition at the Cloud Hall on the 999th floor of the Central Tower. Security's already handled — but she wasn't satisfied with the guards' appearance. Wants young, good-looking men."
"You'll change into security uniforms. Follow the team captain's orders. And do NOT offend Ms. Li."
Zhang Yu asked: "This Ms. Li. She must be rich?"
The driver snorted. "Rich? She's the daughter of a Golden Core True Person."
---
*New terms: Neural Filler (神经填充剂) — drug reducing sleep needs. Ziyun Company (紫云公司) — pharmaceutical manufacturer. Golden Core (金丹) — cultivation realm above Foundation Building. Foundation Building (筑基) — cultivation realm above Qi Refining. Li Xuelian (李雪莲) — art exhibition hostess. Cloud Hall (云中厅) — exhibition venue on 999th floor. Central Tower (中心大厦) — tallest building in Songyang.*