At this very moment—
Deng Bingding and the other four Divine Assistants were watching the examinees undergoing the Dao Heart Exam.
“All four of you made it here after countless tests. You know that, often, the most important part of any exam is discerning what the examiner wants—understanding the true purpose behind the test.”
“And now that we’re the ones doing the testing, it’s no different. We have to interpret what the higher-ups intend so we can select the right talents—those who will one day serve the Ten Great Academies and the Heavenly Court.”
She continued, “The higher-ups are very dissatisfied with the weaklings that have been promoted in recent years. The test results have been declining year after year.”
“This reform aims to find people who’ve clawed their way up from the bottom of Kunxu. People with ambition, desire, and guts—those who can resist temptation and pressure, and go further on the Immortal Path.”
“And resisting temptation is exactly what this round of testing is all about.”
Looking at the candidates on the screen, Deng Bingding went on, “In the illusion used in this Dao Heart Exam, the wealthy face temptations from those even wealthier. If one layer of temptation isn’t enough, then we throw in another.”
“You could say that no matter who among them earns the Foundation License in the end, they’re bound to experience things like this eventually.”
“So our scoring criteria should be clear: a key measure is how much temptation a candidate can resist in monetary terms.”“If someone exceptional appears, reporting them is a credit to you.”
Just as Deng Bingding finished speaking, the Divine Assistant in charge of candidate records, Huang Zichou, looked at the illusion showing Zhang Yu and Bai Zhenzhen and exclaimed, “Wait, there are two poor students in this exam?”
The other Divine Assistants turned their heads at the word “poor.”
After all, seeing poor kids in a Foundation Establishment exam like this was pretty rare.
Deng Bingding looked as well and realized it was a student she had registered earlier. She remembered his name—Zhang Yu—a first-year student from Songyang High.
“Seventy thousand in debt, five-digit bank balance. An ant.”
“Ant”—that was Deng Bingding’s classification for Zhang Yu.
Not an insult, but a term from her personal grading system.
Just like gods had nine ranks and Immortal cultivation had ten realms, she believed people too could be divided by class.
Those without even a high school diploma were “dust.”
Those with one, but savings that hovered in the five- or six-digit range, were “ants.”
Graduates at the peak of the Qi Refining Realm who managed to find a job? “Oxen and horses.”
Only those with college degrees and company jobs were barely considered “people” in her view.
So, seeing Zhang Yu’s bank balance, she’d already written him off as a failure.
It wasn’t about discriminating against the poor—Deng Bingding saw it as objective, born of her many years as a Divine Assistant.
“Wealthy cultivators outperform the poor in everything—mana, physique, martial skill, sigils. And as for their Dao Heart? They often come out on top too.”
That was her hard-earned experience: in every exam she’d seen, the poor just couldn’t compete.
Even those rare few who made it up the ladder? They were usually the easiest to buy off, asked for the least money, worked the longest hours.
The wealthy, in contrast, had been trained from birth. And so—
“The wealthier they are, the stronger they are. The more pressure they can bear. Their vision is broader, their ambition fiercer, their resistance to temptation far superior. They’re exactly the type the higher-ups want as cultivators.”
“As for the ants… sigh. No money, and they still think they can cultivate?”
“If the companies didn’t control the media to lure them in, most of them would never even try.”
…
Meanwhile, Zhang Yu had awakened in the illusion.
The air was unusually fresh. Every breath felt like dozens of tiny hands massaging his organs, nourishing every inch of his flesh and blood.
He realized he was lying on a bed—so soft, it felt like he was floating. His entire body was relaxed.
He glanced around. The room was flooded with sunlight and filled with expensive-looking furniture he had no idea how to use.
Outside the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, a churning sea of clouds rolled.
Zhang Yu walked over and saw forests and lakes among the clouds... and even a dragon coiling skyward, exhaling mist.
Surrounding the sea of clouds were endless skyscrapers, pavilions, and terraces stretching beyond the horizon.
…
Huang Zichou commented, “The rich person in the illusion says they admire him and want to host him.”
“Mhm, he rejected them. As expected.”
“They always do that at first. Highly alert and decisive.”
Another Divine Assistant added, “Given their level of cultivation and Dao Heart, they can’t tell it’s an illusion, but getting whisked away to a rich stranger’s mansion would put anyone on edge.”
Huang Zichou said, “But this house has free Spirit-Energy, elixirs, and supplements. A poor kid like him will definitely stick around for the freebies…”
“Huh? He asked to lower the Spirit-Energy density?”
Another assistant was stunned. “He won’t eat the dragon meat supplement? He asked for synthetic food instead?”
“What is this poor kid thinking?”
…
Inside the illusion.
Zhang Yu didn’t spare the feast before him a single glance.
Especially after the servant explained that most of the dishes were made from powerful spirit beasts—even dragons.
That just made Zhang Yu even more afraid to eat. He only felt safe with synthetic food.
He was terrified they’d charge him later and drive him into bankruptcy.
After all, he had just over ten thousand yuan to his name and was staying in the Upper District of Xiandu City.
It felt like being on a sliver of health in enemy jungle territory—every step could be his last.
So he immediately had them lower the Spirit-Energy density as much as possible. Preferably off entirely.
…
Back in the office—
Listening to the other assistants chatter, Deng Bingding spoke up. “You’re all too used to dealing with rich folks. You barely understand how people at the bottom think.”
“He’s just scared.”
“Afraid that breathing too much or eating too much will land him in debt.”
Breathing too much, eating too much—and going bankrupt?
The Divine Assistants fell momentarily silent. It had been a long time since any of them had seen something like this.
After all, people this poor usually didn’t qualify to be in high-consumption places like this.
Deng Bingding continued, “But this won’t last. The poorer they are, the easier it is for them to fall once their desires awaken.”
“There was a dirt-poor farmer who once clawed his way up to the second floor. Wouldn’t eat. Wouldn’t spend. Too afraid to buy or use anything.”
“And then? Ha. The mere status of a second-floor resident was enough to rob him of his drive to go further on the Immortal Path.”
“No helping it. Poor people have cheap lives. Too easy to satisfy. Stopping their ascent is far simpler than stopping a rich cultivator.”
Meanwhile, Zhang Yu faced even more temptations in the illusion.
…
In the illusion—
A medicine room filled with top-grade elixirs, free to use.
A Spirit Root room with three Heavenly Spirit Roots, open for practice.
A training room with a Yellow-Turban Enforcer for sparring.
A rack of twelve Flying Swords—his to play with.
A soft, slick sensation startled him awake.
A girl was sucking on his finger. Her tongue, like a spirit snake, coiled around his fingertip.
“You…”
The girl’s voice came gently: “Sir, please relax. I’m helping you discharge the excess Spirit-Energy.”
Zhang Yu felt a strange medicine being injected through his fingertip, relaxing his entire body.
She added, “As a part-time training companion and furnace, I’ve just absorbed your excess Spirit-Energy and initiated mana circulation to aid your breathing.”
…
Office.
Huang Zichou shook his head. “He’s done for. Completely fallen now. A high schooler this weak-willed? Should’ve been sterilized.”
“Once he’s this deep, after the two-month free trial, we’ll keep giving him the house and resources—maybe even offer more. He might just drop out of the Foundation Establishment exam himself.”
Another assistant added, “And if not at first, offer a few extra perks. That’ll do it.”
Huang Zichou checked Zhang Yu’s profile. “He’s just a first-year student. Less resolve than the second-years. Poor background. Of course he’s easier to tempt.”
“I say, at most, he can resist one or two hundred million in bribes.”
Meanwhile, Deng Bingding had stopped watching. She turned to focus on the second-year students.
In the Foundation Establishment exam, it was always the second-years who came out on top. First-years were just background characters.
Especially elite students like Ye Lingxiao and Yun Jing from Xiandu City. Wealthy, top talent, and her personal favorites for this exam. If they excelled, reporting them would also earn her merit.
“Yun Jing resisted over a billion in temptation.”
Deng Bingding nodded. “Ye Lingxiao too. Still refusing twelve billion in assets, just to keep going for the Foundation License.”
Huang Zichou analyzed, “They know the difference in status between those who pass the Foundation Establishment exam and those who don’t. It’s night and day.”
“If they want to go far on the Immortal Path—or join a sect after college instead of just working for a company—then this high school Foundation License is the golden ticket.”
“This is their last shot to take it. That’s why they’re more resistant than any first-year.”
Meanwhile, another assistant glanced at Zhang Yu’s illusion and chuckled, “Is that kid about to fold?”
…
In the illusion.
Zhang Yu stepped into a room he hadn’t visited yet: the furnace chamber.
Six gorgeous girls greeted him. Some petite, some voluptuous, some tall, others with beastly features… Each one a different flavor of beauty.
The girl beside him introduced them: “This is Linglü. Her body’s been modified to activate your entire musculature during use—ideal for body-refining.”
“This is Yunxiao. She can absorb medicinal toxins from your body, neutralizing side effects…”
“This is Xianluo. She secretes calming hormones and can reduce your stress through touch and licking…”
“Master, if you agree to drop out of the Foundation Establishment exam, we will all be yours.”
But the moment “drop out” was mentioned, Zhang Yu shivered. He could already feel that cold ceremonial chill creeping up on him.
He waved his hands frantically. “Out! Get out, get out!”
“Don’t you dare disturb my Dao Heart!”
“I’d rather die than give up my Foundation License!”
…
Office.
Huang Zichou was stunned. “I get rejecting them, but so decisively?”
“He’s a high schooler. Blood running hot. Not sterilized. This is peak desire age. And he just turned down a chance to get stronger while playing around?”
Another assistant mused, “Maybe he’s naturally sterile? Or just doesn’t like women? That would explain it.”
Huang Zichou waved grandly, “Easy fix. Give him ten beautiful male furnaces and see what happens.”