For the next few days, Wang Ba sat on his hands. He didn’t dare absorb or deposit a single second of Lifespan.

He was waiting for Old Man Sun to leave.

Only after the old man was gone could he truly feel safe enough to run the manor according to his own designs.

Forcing himself to suppress the itch to use his ability, he threw himself into the daily grind. From dawn till dusk, he hauled sacks of feed, fermented the mash, fed the flock, collected eggs, checked for diseases, and scraped the coops clean.

Even the chicken droppings had value here.

A local collector paid about two qian of silver per jin of manure.

Every single day, Wang Ba shoveled out dozens of jin of the foul-smelling stuff.

The “Dung Tyrant”—a loud-mouthed local who monopolized the manure trade—would often stand at the foot of the slope in the early morning fog, shouting impatiently for Wang Ba to hurry up.

The silver earned from selling the dung was split fifty-fifty between him and Old Man Sun. It wasn’t much, barely enough to cover their daily meals.

After all, prices in the sect’s market district were inflated far beyond the mortal world below the mountain.

At night, Wang Ba would retreat to his room, meticulously studying and practicing the Physique Strengthening Scripture.

Although the physical gains were negligible due to his poor aptitude, his theoretical understanding of the technique deepened significantly.

Time drifted by, one day bleeding into the next.

Half a month later.

Deacon Li arrived on schedule.

“Oh? Old Man Sun, you’ve actually managed to cultivate another Spirit Poultry?!”

The portly Deacon Li stared at the large hen sitting in the cage, his eyes lighting up with genuine surprise.

“I can’t take credit for cultivating it. This old man doesn’t know how it turned out this way either; perhaps it was sheer luck,” Old Man Sun replied honestly, daring not to claim false merit.

However, since Wang Ba couldn’t step forward, the credit naturally fell into Old Man Sun’s lap.

Deacon Li wasn’t shocked by this admission.

The birth of Spirit Poultry was often a matter of serendipity. There had been plenty of similar cases in the sect’s history where a bird simply mutated by chance.

“Old Man Sun, you are too modest. I heard you intend to go down the mountain?”

“Indeed. This old man is aged and weary. I wish to return to my roots—like a fallen leaf settling back into the soil of its hometown.”

“What a pity. Old Man Sun, you are a seasoned veteran. You are a rare asset to our ‘Ding Section’.”

Deacon Li offered a token protest, furrowing his brow in thought before his expression shifted to one of calculation.

“Since that is the case, why not change the reward? Old Man Sun, you have served the sect for decades with toil and merit. Adding this Spirit Poultry to your record… perhaps you could descend the mountain with the status of a Deacon.”

“Oh?! Is… is that truly possible?”

Old Man Sun trembled, his eyes widening with unexpected joy.

“The status of Deacon is something only the Elders can decide; I cannot promise it. But with this contribution, there is a chance. Old Man Sun, you need only wait for my news.”

Deacon Li’s words were watertight—promising nothing, yet offering everything.

“Thank you, Deacon Li! If I can return to the mortal world as a Deacon, then this old man’s life of hardship will have been worth it!”

Old Man Sun was overwhelmed, tears welling in his eyes.

Wang Ba, who had remained silent in the background, hurriedly stepped forward to hand the cage to Deacon Li.

But the moment his fingers brushed against the large hen, he froze.

[Target Lifespan: 57.9 years]

Huh?

How could it be 57.9 years?

Wang Ba’s pupils constricted.

He remembered clearly that this hen’s original lifespan was 19.2 years.

That night, he had deposited exactly two years of lifespan.

Normally, the total should have been 21.2 years.

But the number floating before his eyes was 57.9.

It had more than doubled!

However, there was no time to analyze the anomaly.

Deacon Li had already taken the cage. He examined the bird through the bars, nodding with satisfaction.

“It is indeed Spirit Poultry, and in very good condition!”

“Rest assured, Old Man Sun. With this treasure in hand, the proposal will most likely succeed!”

With that, Deacon Li tossed a few cursory instructions at Wang Ba, flicked his sleeves, and departed.

“Kid Wang, don’t blame me for the change in plans. You saw the situation just now; I couldn’t refuse him.”

Old Man Sun turned around, the tearful gratitude vanishing instantly.

In its place was a look of helpless pragmatism.

According to sect rules, offering a Spirit Poultry would exempt the manor from one year of tribute. For Wang Ba, who was taking over the operation, that exemption would have been a massive relief.

But now, Deacon Li had unilaterally decided to swap that reward for Old Man Sun’s promotion. The benefit to the manor was gone.

Wang Ba would still have to meet the grueling monthly quotas.

Wang Ba didn’t hold a grudge against the old man.

He knew how the world worked. In that conversation, Old Man Sun had no power to negotiate.

Besides, Wang Ba’s mind was still reeling from the shock.

Why did the hen’s lifespan jump to 57.9 years?

Did the deposited lifespan multiply during the transformation?

Wang Ba was lost in thought.

But now was not the time for experiments.

He forced down his curiosity and returned to the routine. Hauling feed, fermenting mash, feeding the flock, collecting eggs…

He worked until he was exhausted.

Another half month flashed by.

Finally, word came from Deacon Li.

Old Man Sun had been successfully promoted to the rank of Deacon.

On the second day after receiving his title, Old Man Sun changed into a set of luxurious robes. clutching the savings he had scraped together over a lifetime, he prepared to leave.

Wang Ba walked him all the way to the mountain gate.

He was the only one.

Dressed like a wealthy landlord, Old Man Sun smiled, but the expression was laced with tragedy.

“Fifty years in the sect… and in the end, only a young man I’ve just met comes to see me off… What was I striving for all my life?”

Wang Ba didn’t know what to say.

We make our own choices. There is no one else to blame.

But as he looked at the old man’s lonely figure, a chill settled in Wang Ba’s heart. Without his ‘Golden Finger’, that would be him in a few decades—alone, desolate, and retiring with nothing to show for it.

Should I… find a Dao Companion? Someone to share the path with? To keep each other warm?

Forget it.

Too poor.

It really wasn’t the time.

Old Man Sun took a few steps down the mountain path, then stopped. Under Wang Ba’s puzzled gaze, he turned back.

Hesitating for a moment, he reached into his robe, pulled out a Fire Fold, and stuffed it into Wang Ba’s hand.

Then, without looking back, he hurried down the mountain.

As if afraid he would regret the gesture.

As if he couldn’t bear to spend another second in this place that had consumed his youth and given him nothing in return.

Wang Ba returned to the manor.

Now, the entire Ding Section manor was his. Aside from him, there was only the flock of Rare Fowl.

An inexplicable sense of security and freedom washed over him.

His first instinct was to rush to the coop and experiment on the chickens.

But he held back. Instead, he sat down and examined the Fire Fold Old Man Sun had forced into his hand.

Fire Folds were common items. Mortals used them to start fires on long journeys.

They were simple devices—rough paper rolled tight and stuffed into a thin bamboo tube. You lit it, let it smolder, and capped it. The ember would stay alive inside. When you needed fire, you uncapped it and blew hard.

What Wang Ba couldn’t understand was why Old Man Sun had given him this.

And why he had looked like he was parting with a family heirloom.

After thinking it over, Wang Ba decided to disassemble it.

He pulled the rolled paper out of the bamboo tube, pinched out the remaining ember, and unrolled the charred paper.

As the paper unfurled, he spotted something unusual.

“Here… there’s gold paper sandwiched inside!”

Wang Ba’s eyes widened. He quickly peeled the gold leaf away from the rough paper and held it up to the sunlight.

To his astonishment, the gold paper was densely engraved with characters as fine as mosquito legs!

A rough estimate suggested there were over forty thousand characters squeezed onto the sheet.

That was several times the length of the Physique Strengthening Scripture.

Squinting until his eyes watered, Wang Ba struggled to make out the title at the top.

Yin Spirit Great Dream Scripture!

“A cultivation technique?”

Wang Ba blinked.

Then, his interest evaporated.

In the world of cultivation, 99% of manuals were useless trash to a mortal without a Spiritual Root.

If you didn’t have the root, even a dog wouldn’t look at you twice.

A technique like the Physique Strengthening Scripture, which allowed mortals to practice, was already incredibly rare.

So, naturally, Wang Ba dismissed it.

“But… Old Man Sun is a mortal too. Why would he hide a cultivation technique like this?”

Driven by curiosity, Wang Ba brought the paper closer to his face. He began to read, character by pain-staking character.

It took him half a day just to parse the text.

But when he finished, the exhaustion on Wang Ba’s face was replaced by a look of utter shock.

“This cultivation technique… it doesn’t require a Spiritual Root!”

“And, much like the Physique Strengthening Scripture, it relies on slow, persistent grinding—water wearing away stone.”

“But… there is one major problem!”