It wasn’t until the laborer disciple delivered the fresh sacks of chicken feed and the crates of discarded spirit insects that the tension in the air began to settle.

Yet, Old Man Sun still stood there, brow furrowed, unable to wrap his head around the situation.

“How did it suddenly lay an egg… Could my memory truly be failing me?”

Standing a few paces back, Wang Ba didn’t dare chime in. He kept his head low, simply following the old man’s lead as they poured the delivered feed into a massive vat for fermentation.

One shouldn’t underestimate this slop. Even as raw chicken feed, it contained a faint trace of spiritual energy.

Just taking a deep whiff of the dust rising from the sack made Wang Ba feel the lingering weakness in his body fade slightly.

Once this feed underwent proper fermentation, the quality of that spiritual energy would rise by another level. Only by consuming such enriched fodder could the Rare Fowl grow healthy and plump with spiritual essence.

Of course, the diet wasn’t complete without the ‘meat’—the discarded spirit insects.

“Don’t use your hands!”

Old Man Sun barked, stopping Wang Ba’s hand in mid-air just as he reached for the writhing mass of bugs.

The old man snatched up an iron ladle, scooped up the crawling critters, and scattered them toward the flock of Rare Fowl waiting eagerly around them.

“Most of these discarded insects are toxic,” Old Man Sun warned, his tone gruff but instructive. “The Rare Fowl have the constitution to handle the poison, but if we touch them with bare skin? It’s death or crippling injury!”

For some reason, the old man, who had barely spared Wang Ba a glance yesterday, was now willing to chat. He even offered a few pointers here and there.

Wang Ba, properly chastised, retracted his hand with a shudder of fear.

Old Man Sun noted the reaction but didn’t look down on him.

Anyone who has just had a brush with death would be shaken. Caution was a virtue here.

“Feed them only once a day,” Old Man Sun said, tossing the iron ladle back into the bucket. “Don’t worry about them starving. Between the spiritual energy in the feed and the insects, it’s enough to keep them full for a day and night.”

Wang Ba nodded repeatedly, committing every word to memory.

It was truly an eye-opener. The chickens in his previous life would peck and scratch from dawn till dusk, never seeming full.

Then again, chickens are known for their straightforward digestive system—eat, excrete, and repeat—making their digestion very fast. These spiritual breeds were clearly different.

Perhaps seeing that Wang Ba knew his place and remained consistently respectful, Old Man Sun’s attitude softened considerably compared to the previous day. He didn’t hesitate to share a bit more wisdom.

“Look at that one over there. See how it stops eating the moment it’s full? And that one… these Rare Fowl have been raised to be extremely picky eaters. So, sometimes you actually have to starve them a bit to keep them humble. And that one, that… Huh?”

Old Man Sun stopped mid-sentence. “Strange!”

Wang Ba followed the old man’s gaze. His heart skipped a beat.

He saw a familiar, overly large hen. It was using its plump, round body like a battering ram, shoving its companions aside.

Its head bobbed frantically, pecking at the feed with the ferocity of a starving beast. It ate as if it hadn’t seen food in years and was determined to make up for it all at once.

The pile of feed in front of it vanished at a visible rate.

That single hen was eating more than several of the other large hens combined.

Wang Ba felt a cold sweat prickle his back.

That chicken is way too damn flashy!

Seeing this, Old Man Sun’s brow furrowed into a deep ravine.

“It’s this chicken again…”

“Really strange!”

Old Man Sun tottered forward, his movements seemingly frail, until—

Swish!

His hand shot out like lightning!

However, what happened next shocked both of them.

The large hen leaped lightly into the air, dodging the grab with uncanny agility!

Wang Ba was especially shocked. He had witnessed Old Man Sun’s hand speed last night and early this morning.

The old man was so skilled that he never missed a shot!

See one, catch one. No exceptions.

Yet, seeing the dodge, Old Man Sun wasn’t alarmed. Instead, a look of delight washed over his weathered face.

He moved again.

This time, Wang Ba couldn’t even track the movement.

He only felt a blur flash before his eyes.

Cluck! Cluck…

The plump, round hen was already secured in Old Man Sun’s grip. He deftly twisted the bird’s wings behind its back to immobilize it, then proceeded to run his hands over its body, checking its muscles and bones.

As he felt the bird, Old Man Sun’s eyes began to shine.

“Good heavens! It’s almost about to become Spirit Poultry!”

“Spirit Poultry?” Wang Ba asked, feigning puzzlement.

Having discovered a treasure, Old Man Sun was in high spirits and didn’t bother to hide his knowledge.

“Although Rare Fowl are precious—even the Qi Refining immortals within the sect consume them—when it comes down to it, they are still mundane poultry. At most, they possess a touch of spirituality.”

“But Spirit Poultry… they are truly transcendent beings. They have shed their mundane roots to become celestial birds!”

Old Man Sun turned the hen over, admiring it like a piece of jade.

“Of course, this chicken right now can’t be fully considered Spirit Poultry yet. It is merely very close. But even so, this counts as a Expert!”

“With careful nurturing over the next few days, it will surely complete the transformation.”

The old man’s joy was palpable.

Wang Ba’s internal monologue was far more complicated.

Barring any accidents, this chicken had only undergone its transformation after he had deposited his own lifespan into it.

Still, he focused on the most practical question.

“Old Man Sun, how much credit can one get for offering such a Spirit Poultry to the sect?”

Old Man Sun carefully placed the large hen back onto the ground before answering.

“It can exempt you from one year of offerings.”

“Just… exempted from the annual tribute?”

Wang Ba couldn’t hide his disappointment.

He had hoped for a reward—a cultivation technique, a magical artifact, anything. Even if he couldn’t use it immediately, it would be an asset.

“Hah! Don’t underestimate the value of a tribute exemption.”

Old Man Sun chuckled, his mood clearly lifted by the discovery. He became chatty.

“The sect has strict regulations. Regarding the chickens in this manor, as long as you raise them well, anything surplus to the tribute is yours to handle.”

“The only hard rule is that you must not delay the monthly tribute. The consequences for that are unpleasant, to say the least.”

“Think about it,” the old man continued, counting on his fingers. “Not needing to pay tribute for a year means you effectively have an extra 48 Rare Fowl and 2,400 Rare Fowl eggs to sell!”

“According to market prices, a male Rare Fowl is worth two fen of a Spirit Stone, and a female is four fen. Just the birds alone could sell for fourteen low-grade Spirit Stones!”

“And while the eggs aren’t worth much individually, 2,400 of them would fetch at least another two or three Spirit Stones.”

“Calculated this way, that’s a full seventeen or eighteen low-grade Spirit Stones!”

The old man sighed wistfully. “Seventeen or eighteen Spirit Stones… if you went down the mountain with that wealth, it would be enough to buy a grand three-courtyard mansion in a mortal capital city, and you could even afford to marry several wives!”

Wang Ba’s heart pounded against his ribs.

He hadn’t expected the Rare Fowl to be so valuable.

Nor had he imagined the value of a single Spirit Poultry could effectively buy a life of luxury in the mortal world.

It made sense. Rewards are rarely as valuable as the tribute itself. If the sect was willing to give up seventeen Spirit Stones’ worth of revenue, it meant the Spirit Poultry was worth far more to them.

However, as the excitement faded, Wang Ba’s calculating nature took over. He frowned.

“Old Man Sun, something doesn’t add up. Even if we follow the tribute requirements, the current stock of chickens here doesn’t seem sufficient to generate a surplus.”

“Even if I’m exempted from tribute for a year, I still need to keep a portion for breeding stock and prepare the tribute for the following year. If I calculate it strictly… at most, I could only sell 11 roosters and 2 hens.”

“Including the eggs, the real profit comes out to roughly three or four low-grade Spirit Stones.”

Old Man Sun paused, looking at Wang Ba with surprise.

“Young man, your mind works quite fast!”

The old man glanced left and right, ensuring no one was listening, and lowered his voice.

“The sect naturally wouldn’t be so generous; they calculate things much more clearly than you do! The Rare Fowl is the breed closest to Spirit Poultry, and it is extremely difficult to breed. The sect’s managers know this.”

“For a manor to simply guarantee the full monthly tribute is already a rare feat. To have a surplus? It might happen, but it definitely wouldn’t be much.”

“As for our specific manor,” Sun gestured around the yard, “years ago there was an Avian Plague. It caused heavy casualties. It’s only in recent years that we’ve barely recovered a bit of vitality.”

So that’s how it is.

Wang Ba suddenly understood.

He had wondered how the reward could be so high. Turns out, the sect was issuing empty promises. They offered a reward based on theoretical maximums that no ordinary disciple could ever achieve.

This also explained why the headcount of the flock didn’t match the expected yield.

“Alright, I’m only telling you this because I’m about to leave. Keep it in mind; it will be of great benefit to you,” Old Man Sun said, stroking his beard.

“Huh? You’re going down the mountain?” Wang Ba was taken aback.

“I’m old!”

Old Man Sun sighed, his eyes unfocusing as he looked toward the horizon.

“In my youth, I was determined to seek immortality and enlightenment. I was willing to spend my family’s entire fortune to join the sect, just to gain a bit of opportunity.”

“After joining, I diligently practiced the Physique Strengthening Scripture for fifty years. Now, I have reached the ninth layer. I am just one layer away from the tenth layer, where a spiritual root can be born…”

“Unfortunately… unfortunately!”

His voice trembled with suppressed emotion.

“A single layer’s difference can be like a thousand miles apart!”

He turned to Wang Ba, his expression solemn.

“Young Wang, life is short. Enjoy it while you can, and don’t wait until you’re my age to regret it.”

“This is the only advice I, as a senior, have for you.”

Wang Ba fell silent.

At first hearing, Old Man Sun’s life experience seemed almost a mirror image of his own.

It almost made him feel as if the old man was narrating Wang Ba’s own potential future.

And compared to himself, Old Man Sun’s aptitude was clearly superior. At least the old man had managed to cultivate the Physique Strengthening Scripture to the ninth layer in fifty years.

If Old Man Sun had stayed in the mortal world, he would likely have been a peerless martial arts prodigy.

Galloping across the rivers and lakes, living a carefree life… he would have had a different kind of brilliance.

Instead, he ended up as an obscure old chicken farmer within this immortal sect. A lifetime of pent-up frustration and unfulfilled ambitions.

Without his special advantage, this would likely be Wang Ba’s foreseeable future.

However… I already have a chance to turn things around.

Wang Ba looked at the leisurely Rare Fowl pecking at the dirt. A cold determination settled in his eyes.

I absolutely will not let this opportunity slip through my fingers.

But… I must endure. I must wait.

He secretly clenched his fist, hiding his ambition deep within his heart.