Xiong Wenwu knew that the Protected-Zone was already a relatively closed-off place.
And the Protected-Zone Breeding Facility? That was closure within closure.
The Demon-Kin workers here were born here, grew up here, and would likely die here...
Like An’an in front of him—already vastly different from him, who had gone off to high school.
Because An’an failed the separation exam at age six, she’d been retained to work in the Breeding Facility from an early age.
Thanks to that, she’d grown up working in the base, helping the younger Xiong Wenwu in many ways.
But over twenty years of work experience and long-term corporate training had turned her into an outstanding Red Tower Pasture employee, winning “Protected-Zone Employee of the Year” for eight years straight.
Her award poster read:
My favorite thing in the world is working for the company!
The month I hate most is February, because there are only 28 days to work!The thing I care least about is salary! I’m proud to ease the company’s burden—I’ll be the first to take a pay cut!
My motto? No money, no backing, only hard work!
“I’ve been Employee of the Year for eight straight years!”
An’an looked at Xiong Wenwu like she was staring at a traitorous son, jabbing a claw toward the eight certificates on the wall and shouting, “You’re seriously asking me to exploit a company loophole to sneak them access to the spirit vein?!”
Fuming, she stormed up and smacked Xiong Wenwu hard with her paw.
Xiong Wenwu didn’t dare retaliate and kept trying to persuade her. “Sis! The Breeding Facility is about to be shut down. You’ll be sold off to Oasis Group!”
An’an replied, “If the company’s selling me, they must have their reasons. I’ll follow orders.”
Xiong Wenwu said, “Oasis Group doesn’t treat Demon-Kin employees like Red Tower Pasture does. They’ll use you for experiments!”
An’an didn’t believe it. “The manager told me I’d still be working at a Breeding Facility after the transfer. He wouldn’t lie to me.”
Xiong Wenwu sighed. In An’an’s eyes, her manager was more trustworthy than he was.
With a loud thud, Xiong Wenwu dropped to his knees.
“Sis, please help me.”
An’an’s anger wavered at the sight of him kneeling, and she flailed awkwardly. “You! You! What’s going on? Did you fail your exams? Or can’t pay your loans?”
Xiong Wenwu said in a deep voice, “Sis, I’m about to get eliminated.”
An’an blinked. “What? But…weren’t your test scores pretty good before? How could this happen…”
Xiong Wenwu explained, “Because my performance in competitions has been terrible. If I keep failing like this, Father will demote me to the remedial class.”
He pointed to Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen beside him. “Ask them—they beat me in the competitions and got me kicked down.”
Catching his signal, Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen exchanged glances and gave firm nods, confirming the story.
Xiong Wenwu turned back to a bewildered An’an and continued, “Sis, they said if I could get them a session to breathe in the spirit vein, they’d let me win next time. They’d even tutor me for free to raise my grades.”
“Sis, I’m begging you. I don’t want to get eliminated by Dad. I want to rank higher in competitions. Please help me?”
“If you don’t believe me, I’ve got the news clips and videos from the competition. See for yourself…”
An’an first looked up info about the competitions, then watched the footage—Xiong Wenwu being beaten bloody by Bai Zhenzhen in the martial arts contest, straining so hard in the sports tournament that his muscles tore…only to still lose to Zhang Yu.
The little red panda An’an turned to Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen, pressed her palms together, and bowed slightly. “How much money do you want? I’ll pay for him. He worked so hard just to get into high school. He really has a shot at college…”
Zhang Yu chuckled. “Ten thousand yuan an hour.”
An’an’s face turned pale. As an un-cultivated Demon-Kin who never finished high school, her monthly salary was only about two thousand.
Bai Zhenzhen added from the side, “If you can’t afford that, just let us use the spirit vein. For every hour we use it, we’ll tutor him for an hour.”
Xiong Wenwu pleaded, “Sis! I want to study! I want to stay in high school and go to college! I don’t want to end up on the factory floor. Please help me!”
An’an gritted her teeth, looked at Xiong Wenwu still kneeling, and finally sighed long and hard. “Alright.”
At that moment, An’an felt like her loyalty to the company—body and soul—had been utterly shattered. She had failed her wall of commendations.
…
The next day, with Xiong Wenwu and An’an leading the way, Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen entered the Breeding Facility through the material transport corridor and arrived in a hatchery room.
The moment they stepped inside, Zhang Yu felt an incredibly fresh current of air rush over him. It washed through his body from head to toe, and he even felt as if his soul had been rinsed clean—almost like he was ascending.
“So this is air from a spirit vein? It’s way more comfortable than even the Protected-Zone itself.”
He took a deep breath, feeling the spiritual essence swirl throughout his body, greedily absorbed by every inch of his flesh.
But when he activated his Great Sun Qi Sea Technique and scanned the light sources around them, a hint of regret flickered in his eyes.
Xiong Wenwu asked, “Is something wrong?”
Zhang Yu replied, “Is there a light source here? We need more light to cultivate properly.”
“Light?” Xiong Wenwu thought for a moment. “How about hatchery lamps? They’re used to warm dragon eggs.”
So, under An’an’s begrudging supervision, Zhang Yu and Xiong Wenwu hauled in over a dozen hatchery lamps.
Once the lights were switched on, Zhang Yu felt as if a cluster of miniature suns had appeared before him. The intense glow bathed him, and the spiritual essence around him seemed to condense and flood toward his body, making his Great Sun Mana surge violently.
Fu Ji in his chest analyzed, “These hatchery lamps aren’t ordinary lights. They’re refined using Immortal Dao technology to incubate dragon eggs, and their light seems to better gather spiritual essence.”
With the spirit vein and hatchery lamps combined, the Zhen Spirit Root resonated with the Great Sun Qi Sea and began breathing in sync…
Great Sun Mana erupted like a volcano within him, roaring through his meridians.
Zhang Yu felt the spiritual essence surge toward him so fast, it was like he’d plunged into a pool of it.
His breathing efficiency rose, and rose, and rose again—until it reached an upper limit he could no longer surpass.
“So this is the full-force breathing effect of a spirit vein, spirit root, and a level-10 mid-stage Qi Refinement breathing technique?”
At that moment, Zhang Yu finally felt like he was truly cultivating—compared to this, everything before had been like sucking car exhaust.
But then he thought about how, for students at Elite High Schools, reaching 100 units of mana was just a matter of time and patience.
Yet here he and Bai Zhenzhen were, burning effort and cash to hit senior-year stats by the end of freshman year.
Just then, Bai Zhenzhen called out, “Yuzi, hand over the spirit root—I want to try it too.”
Once the Zhen Spirit Root was removed, Zhang Yu felt his breathing speed drop by 30 or 40 percent, leaving him disheartened.
“Looks like Ah-Zhen and I will have to take turns from now on…”
He decided to let Bai Zhenzhen stay and cultivate first—he’d return another day.
On the way out, Zhang Yu asked Xiong Wenwu curiously, “The money you asked from us—you were planning to use it to help An’an, right?”
Xiong Wenwu paused, then said, “I want to pay off her Breeding Loan. That way she can leave this place and not have to worry about being sold to Oasis Group.”
In the following days, Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen’s cultivation progressed by leaps and bounds. Their physical strength and mana rose steadily.
Their Dao Heart didn’t spike like the rest, but it improved at a steady pace.
Zhang Yu only regretted that there was still no word from Yu Xinghan about the Spiritual Realm. Apparently, they’d have to wait until the college exams ended and the seniors graduated before slots opened up.
…
In the blink of an eye, it was now early June.
Tomorrow was the college entrance exam.
It also meant that Zhang Pianpian’s departure drew ever closer.
As the exam approached, the atmosphere at Songyang High grew increasingly tense. Senior-year students now held exalted status—one glare could send underclassmen scrambling.
Even teachers, normally stern, now spoke to seniors in hushed tones, afraid of anything going wrong before the exam.
At the same time, although rising stats made the usual training methods less effective, by June, Zhang Yu’s physical strength had risen to 5.99, mana to 60.2, and Dao Heart to Level 5 (25%).
Still, with greater food and medicine intake, plus living expenses in the Protected-Zone, Zhang Yu’s savings kept dwindling. Even with income from tutoring and sparring gigs, he was down to just over 120,000 yuan.
And as far as he knew, Bai Zhenzhen’s savings were in even worse shape—hers were nearly gone.
In recent days, Zhang Yu often found himself sighing inwardly:
“The Immortal Path sure burns through money like water.”
“But at least it’s paying off. I’m getting closer to senior-level benchmarks: Dao Heart Level 6, over 70 mana units, and physical strength above 7.5.”
“There’s still two months left—should be enough.”
But Zhang Yu also knew: with Zhang Pianpian’s departure, even greater trials awaited him.
…
Three days later, shortly after the exams ended—
Zhang Yu got a call from Zhang Pianpian.
“I’m leaving soon.”
“After I go, the safest thing would be for you to stay in the city and at school.”
“But you and I both know…that’s impossible.”
Zhang Yu nodded slightly. Since they were going to take the Foundation Establishment exam, there was no way they could stay tucked away in school or Songyang City.
Zhang Pianpian continued, “The rich kids aren’t a threat—for now. But the ones who hate you most are Zhou Chechen and Lan Ling.”
“Be careful after I’m gone.”