“Yes. I only received the news yesterday.”
Deacon Li looked grim.
“They say an evil intruder broke into Old Man Sun’s residence at midnight and cruelly tortured him to death. His newly taken concubine and servants—more than ten people in all—were also killed. None survived.”
Li paused, his voice dropping lower. “The strange thing is, the Sect investigators found Spirit Stones and mundane wealth left untouched in his bedroom. The killer didn’t take a single coin.”
Wang Ba felt a cold hand grip his heart. He thought of how Old Man Sun had looked after him when he first arrived at the manor.
“Deacon Li, that doesn’t make sense! Old Man Sun had mastered the ninth layer of the Physique Strengthening Scripture and was nearly a thousand jin stronger than an ordinary person. What common bandit could harm him?”
Deacon Li hesitated for a moment before answering.
“Based on the scene… it is suspected that a cultivator was responsible.”
“A cultivator? An Immortal?
But why would an Immortal attack Old Man Sun?”
Wang Ba was shaken. He immediately thought of the golden sheet Old Man Sun had given him before leaving, the one bearing the Yin Spirit Great Dream Scripture.
“I don’t know,” Deacon Li said, shaking his head. “But regardless, Old Man Sun was a Deacon of our Sect. The Sect won’t let this slide. They will get to the bottom of it.”
Li fixed Wang Ba with a serious look. “If you know anything—anything at all—you must tell me.”
“Yes! Of course!” Wang Ba nodded furiously, hiding the tremor in his hands.
Deacon Li didn’t seem in the mood to chat. After a perfunctory check of the inventory, he took the tribute Rare Fowl and eggs and left in a hurry.
He didn’t even bother to inspect the coop.
Wang Ba’s efforts to hide his special stock—Alpha-One through Alpha-Six—had been unnecessary.
But Wang Ba didn’t care about that. He stood frozen in the yard, lost in thought.
Old Man Sun’s violent death… suspected cultivator involvement. Was it random? Or targeted?
If it was random, fine.
If deliberate, was it revenge? Or… was it for that golden sheet?
If it was for the sheet, the fact that someone had found him mere months after his return home, following fifty years in the sect, meant they placed great importance on it.
And given the methods of cultivators… Old Man Sun, a mere mortal in the end, likely couldn’t keep a secret under torture.
Which meant…
The killer likely knew about Wang Ba.
The blood drained from Wang Ba’s face.
Leaving the sect could be very dangerous.
They would be waiting for him, just as they had waited for Old Man Sun.
Of course, this was just speculation. It might be Wang Ba’s inherent paranoia spiraling out of control.
But he was a man who lived by the code of caution. Once the seed of doubt was planted, it took root deep in his heart.
“I will not take a single step out of this Sect until I have a Spiritual Root,” he vowed silently.
Over the following days, Wang Ba put all sixteen remaining male Rare Fowl through Lifespan Breakthrough, then absorbed their lifespan, killed them, and ate them one by one.
Most of their spiritual energy was wasted, but visualizing the Yin Spirit still allowed a fair amount to be converted into Yin Spirit Power.
Inside his Yin Spirit Abode, a second drop of Yin Spirit power condensed. Then a third.
As his Yin Spirit Power grew, he could observe spiritual energy in finer detail.
He noticed that among the twenty Rare Fowl he had fed Spirit Stones to, a few possessed a slightly denser aura of spiritual energy. The others showed little change. Enjoying the story? Read on at novelping dot com.
They had all eaten the same feed. The difference lay in their bloodlines.
With limited resources, he stopped treating birds that showed little change, keeping only the six most promising ones in the trial. He gave them more Spirit Stone powder, implanted nematodes, and waited.
Three months passed in the blink of an eye.
“Exhausted! I’m absolutely dead!”
Old Hou panted heavily as he hauled a sack of chicken feed up the stone steps of the manor.
“Have you heard the news, Brother Wang?” Old Hou wheezed, wiping sweat from his brow. “Those young Immortals from the Sect went to some grand tournament recently. Rumor has it our Eastern Sage Sect came in dead last!”
Old Hou loved to gossip during his deliveries. Usually, it was mundane chatter, but today’s topic piqued Wang Ba’s interest.
“I hadn’t heard. Isn’t our Eastern Sage Sect supposed to be strong?” Wang Ba asked with interest.
“Who knows? Some important figure from our sect fought an Elder of the Heavenly Gate Sect recently. Guess what? Our man was badly injured! I’d say the Heavenly Gate Sect is stronger.”
“Shh!”
Wang Ba pressed a finger to his lips, his eyes darting around the empty yard.
He had heard of the Heavenly Gate Sect from Hou before. They were a mysterious, rising power rumored to care for the suffering of the common folk. As they grew, friction with the established local sects—like the Eastern Sage Sect—had intensified.
Old Hou seemed to have a dangerous fondness for them.
Praising a rival sect while standing on Eastern Sage soil? For a lowly laborer, that was a death wish.
But Old Hou just waved a dismissive hand at Wang Ba’s caution.
“Bah! The Immortals don’t have time to listen to us blowing hot air,” Hou scoffed. “They don’t give a damn about cheap lives like ours. To them, we’re just trash who will never cultivate Spiritual Roots.”
“Never cultivate Spiritual Roots?”
Wang Ba froze. He latched onto the phrase immediately.
“You don’t know?” Old Hou looked at him, a bitter sneer curling his lips. “We’ve been scammed, Brother Wang. The Sect played us all.”
“You practice the Physique Strengthening Scripture, right? Heh! It’s a trap.”
Hou leaned in, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “If you can’t reach the Tenth Layer within three years, you’re done. No hope for the rest of your life. You’ll never awaken a root.”
“Three years?!”
Wang Ba was stunned.
Three years? Impossible.
He knew the scripture required patient, steady practice without neglect. Unless one could transfer lifespan as he did and had enough of it, even a thousand years might be insufficient, let alone three.
“Old Hou,” Wang Ba asked sharply, “who told you this?”
“The Ascension Society, of course… cough!”
Old Hou’s face stiffened. He realized he had said too much.
“Heh, well, it’s not exactly a secret,” he stammered, backing away toward his cart. “Plenty of people know! Anyway, I have more deliveries. Talk tomorrow!”
With that, he jumped onto his donkey cart and whipped the reins, fleeing the conversation.
“Ascension Society…”
Wang Ba narrowed his eyes as he watched the cart rattle away.
For some reason, the image of Deacon Li’s plump, smiling face flashed through his mind.
Wang Ba stood in the coop, staring at two chickens with uncontainable joy.
“Finally succeeded!”
“My idea was right!”
After burning through thirty-two Low-Grade Spirit Stones and three gourds of Tendon-Severing Nematodes, he had done it.
Standing before him were two Rare Fowl that were undeniably transforming into Spirit Poultry.
They weren’t fully evolved yet, but the signs were unmistakable. With a little more care, they would cross the threshold.
This was the proof of concept he needed. With this method established as his “cover,” he could finally mass-produce Spirit Poultry without raising suspicion.
Ten days later.
Deacon Li arrived for the collection. When Wang Ba presented his offering, the Deacon’s chubby face went slack with shock.
“You… you actually cultivated Spirit Poultry?”
Li stared at the birds. “And two of them?!”
Wang Ba bowed his head, the picture of humility.
“I must thank you for borrowing the book for me, Deacon. It happened to contain a method for raising Spirit Poultry. I learned a great deal from it and, after several attempts, was lucky enough to raise these two.”
Feigning total incompetence wasn’t smart. Showing a bit of talent—just enough to be useful—was the best way to secure his position.
He deliberately presented two birds. One could be a fluke. Two implied a reproducible success.
As a Deacon, Li knew more about the matter.
He knew about the method in Notes on Avian Husbandry. It wasn’t a secret; it was just famously impractical. The cost of the Spirit Stones required to transform a single bird usually exceeded the value of the bird itself by a factor of hundreds. It was a money pit.
That was why the method had become impractical. Most Spirit Poultry on the market came from breeding rather than being nurtured from Rare Fowl. Knowing this made Deacon Li understand Wang Ba’s value all the more clearly.
He quickly thought it over and made up his mind.
Li grabbed Wang Ba’s arm, his grip tight and earnest.
“Brother… this is significant. Very significant. I’m going to report this to the Sect immediately!”
Li lowered his voice. “However, the annual Sect Recruitment is coming up. The Elders are swamped with preparations, so news might be slow. But don’t worry—I promise you won’t be shorted on benefits.”
“And remember,” Li added sternly, “keep this to yourself. Don’t go spreading it around that you can do this. Understand?”
With that, he hurried away with the two Spirit Poultry.
“Sect Recruitment?”
Wang Ba stood alone in the yard, pondering the term.
There were generally two ways to join a sect: approach it directly, or wait for its organized recruitment.
Wang Ba had taken the first path—using money and connections to buy a spot as a servant because he lacked a Spiritual Root.
In a flash, nearly ten months had passed since he arrived.
Looking back now, it almost felt like another lifetime.
He sighed, shaking off the melancholy.
He had established his value. He had secured a channel through Deacon Li. Now, he could safely go to the market, buy up Rare Fowl, and begin his real work.
It was time to push the Physique Strengthening Scripture to the limit.