The first surprise of the day was an egg.

A chicken laying an egg was the most normal thing in the world.

However, upon closer inspection, Wang Ba realized this was no ordinary egg. It was a fertilized Rare Fowl egg.

And the sire was a male Spirit Poultry.

A few days ago, shortly after mastering the First Layer of the Yin Spirit Great Dream Scripture, Wang Ba had noticed one of the male Spirit Poultry acting restless.

He hadn’t expected to actually witness the beast mounting a hen today.

The size difference was comical, bordering on grotesque—the massive, Qi-infused Spirit Poultry pressing down on the fragile Rare Fowl looked completely incongruous.

Yet, Wang Ba was overjoyed.

Not long after the act, the favored hen laid an egg.

To Wang Ba’s spiritual vision, the Qi contained within this shell was noticeably denser than that of a standard Rare Fowl egg.

He couldn’t help but feel a surge of anticipation.

What would hatch from this?

A Spirit Poultry? A standard Rare Fowl?

Or perhaps a hybrid—a transitional form between the two?

Of course, there was always the possibility of reproductive isolation, resulting in a failed hatch.

Nothing was certain.

Regardless, Wang Ba got to work immediately.

To prevent the other hungry birds from pecking at the precious egg, he built a separate, enclosed nest for the mother hen.

He then tried to place the male Spirit Poultry in with the other hens, including the two female Spirit Poultry he had raised.

However, after watching the male get violently thrashed by the two female Spirit Poultry, he realized he had overthought things. The females were clearly not interested.

He could only hope the male would continue to spread his seed among the ordinary Rare Fowl hens instead.

By the time he finished arranging the coop, the sky had turned dark.

As per his new routine, he slaughtered a bird. To minimize the dissipation of Qi, he chose to stew it into a soup.

He cleaned up every trace of the slaughter, burying the bones deep in the earth.

He ate while he thought.

Deacon Li was due to arrive in two days to collect the tribute. Yet, of the twenty-two Spirit Poultry, Wang Ba had only managed to eat eight.

And that was with him pushing his limits, desperately visualizing the Yin Spirit to digest the energy.

This was the second discovery he had made: timing was everything.

If he visualized the Yin Spirit immediately after eating, he could effectively intercept a portion of the escaping Qi.

The ratio was small—less than one-tenth of the dissipating energy—but it was something.

This intercepted Qi was sucked straight into the Yin Spirit Abode at the center of his brow.

The problem was, the Abode remained silent.

He felt absolutely no trace of the so-called “Yin Spirit Power.”

It felt as though mastering the First Layer of the Yin Spirit Great Dream Scripture had granted him nothing but the ability to see Qi.

Despite the lack of feedback, he didn’t give up.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to burn more Lifespan to upgrade the technique; he simply didn’t have enough. Furthermore, unlike the Physique Strengthening Scripture, the option to upgrade the Yin Spirit Great Dream Scripture had mysteriously vanished from his panel after the breakthrough.

He had to rely on his own hard work, visualizing bit by bit.

Tonight was no different.

After gorging himself on chicken and soup, he didn’t even wipe his mouth before sitting cross-legged to visualize.

In his mind’s eye, he tirelessly sketched the form of the Yin Spirit.

He watched the Qi flowing through his body, rejoicing each time a wisp was intercepted by the Abode. It felt better than earning Spirit Stones.

As the final wisp of Qi was absorbed, Wang Ba slowly exhaled.

Suddenly, the center of his brow trembled.

He felt it. A single drop of crimson liquid, no larger than a grain of rice, had condensed out of thin air within the void of his Yin Spirit Abode!

“This… this is Yin Spirit Power!”

The realization hit him instantly.

The droplet was tiny. Compared to the vast, boundless emptiness of the Yin Spirit Abode, it was microscopic.

Yet, the shock it delivered to Wang Ba’s psyche was immense.

Because in the moment the Yin Spirit Power condensed, the knowledge of its function flooded his mind.

“Four words…” Wang Ba murmured, his eyes gleaming. “The Great Falsehood Resembles Truth!”

“Driven by Yin Spirit Power, I can deceive the heavens and cross the sea right under people’s noses. I can fabricate reality!”

“Simply put, it’s a high-tier illusion technique. A perfect disguise.”

“Unless my Yin Spirit Power runs dry, ordinary cultivators won’t be able to see through it at all!”

“Old Man Sun… where on earth did he get such a profound technique?”

A wave of suspicion regarding Old Man Sun’s identity washed over him.

Even with his limited experience, Wang Ba knew the Yin Spirit Great Dream Scripture was extraordinary. How could a mere mortal like Old Man Sun have possessed it?

He pondered for a moment but found no answers.

He pushed the mystery aside. With this Yin Spirit Power, the problem that had been keeping him awake at night finally had a solution.

He could sell the remaining Spirit Poultry!

The dilemma had been suffocating him. He couldn’t let Deacon Li find the flock, but hiding over a dozen Spirit Poultry was impossible.

If he couldn’t eat them, he had to dump them or sell them.

Dumping them was a waste that made his heart bleed.

Selling them was dangerous; unloading such a large quantity would attract attention, even if he split them up across different markets.

He had actually considered burying them in a remote hole just to get rid of the evidence.

But now? Now he had a way out.

He just needed to use the Yin Spirit Power to change his appearance. He could walk into the market, sell the birds openly, and vanish.

Once the transaction was done, he would revert to his true self.

Unless he was caught red-handed during the sale, he would be safe.

Of course, he could theoretically use the power to blind Deacon Li to the chickens’ existence.

But he didn’t dare risk it.

Deacons, even Outer Sect ones, were not to be trifled with. If Li had a special eye technique or a perception artifact, Wang Ba would be dead.

The risk was too high.

Selling them was the only logical path.

“But first… I need to test it.”

Wang Ba frowned. How to test it? Who to test it on?

He lived in isolation. Aside from market trips, the only people he saw were Old Hou, the feed deliverer, and Niu Yong, the dung collector.

He thought for a moment.

“Those two will have to do.”

He spent the rest of the night stabilizing his state, continuing his visualization.

The single red droplet in his Abode didn’t grow. It seemed that without the boost from eating Spirit Poultry, relying on pure meditation would take months to condense another drop.

He worked until late into the night before falling into a deep sleep.

Early the next morning, he rose to feed and clean the coop.

Not long after, Old Hou’s familiar call echoed from the path below the manor.

Wang Ba’s heart stirred. The crimson droplet in his Yin Spirit Abode began to spin rapidly.

He strode down the hill.

When Old Hou saw him, the old man paused, cupped his hands in a respectful greeting, and asked with a confused expression, “Friend, dare I ask if Wang Ba is present?”

Wang Ba smiled faintly. “Wait a moment. I will go call him.”

“Thank you for your trouble,” Old Hou said, bowing quickly with an ingratiating smile, completely unaware.

“No trouble at all.”

Wang Ba turned and walked back up to the manor with purposeful strides. Once out of sight, he immediately cut the flow of Yin Spirit Power.

He turned around and trotted back down the hill, his posture shifting to his usual humble slouch.

He waved at the old man. “Old Hou!”

Old Hou’s face lit up with recognition. He smiled and set down the two buckets of chicken feed.

As Wang Ba took the buckets, Old Hou pursed his lips toward the manor and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.

“Who was that tall fellow? The one with the dark face and brocade robes? He looked unfamiliar! He’s not one of us Laborer Disciples, is he?”

“I don’t know either,” Wang Ba whispered back, feigning helplessness. He pointed a finger toward the sky. “He just showed up out of nowhere, asking how the chickens were being fed. I didn’t dare ask questions.”

Old Hou immediately understood the gesture. His face shifted to an expression of profound empathy.

He nodded vigorously. “Must be an Immortal.”

“Brother Wang, you’d best be careful!”

With that warning, Old Hou scrambled back to his donkey cart and hurried away, eager to put distance between himself and the mysterious “high-status” visitor.

Wang Ba stood in place, watching the retreating cart, a small smile playing on his lips.

The “dark-faced, brocade-robed man” was, of course, him.

It was a persona he had fabricated in his mind. He hadn’t expected Old Hou to be so thoroughly deceived.

But Wang Ba didn’t let his guard down. He waited.

Later that morning, when Niu Yong the Dung Tyrant arrived to collect the waste, Wang Ba repeated the experiment.

This time, he mentally sculpted the image of a sallow-faced Daoist.

The result was identical.

When Wang Ba deactivated the power and appeared as himself, even Niu Yong—a man known for his bullish temper and arrogance within the Ding Section—was practically trembling with curiosity.

“Who was that Daoist?” Niu Yong asked, his eyes darting toward the manor.

“A friend,” Wang Ba said flatly, offering no further explanation.

His secretive, tight-lipped attitude made Niu Yong look at him with new eyes.

This wasn’t a lawless black market; this was the foot of the Eastern Sage Sect.

Even though they were on the outermost fringe, barely acknowledged by the true Sect, they were still within its territory.

A sallow-faced Daoist appearing here, clearly not dressed as a laborer, was almost certainly a Disciple.

Sect Disciples—even those of the Outer Sect—were gods compared to the likes of them.

In fact, people like Wang Ba and Niu Yong existed solely to serve them. The chicken farmers of the Ding Section provided Spirit Chow. The Dung Tyrants collected fertilizer to enrich the Spirit Fields that grew the Disciples’ herbs.

The Disciples were their sky. They held the power of life and death.

Realizing this, Niu Yong’s demeanor shifted instantly. The rudeness he usually showed Wang Ba vanished, replaced by a fawning, oily smile.

He fumbled in his robes and shoved several silver ingots into Wang Ba’s hand.

“Brother Wang! With connections like that, why are you still hiding out here? Here, look—the price of chicken dung has gone up these last two days. Here’s an extra ten taels of silver for you.”

“Ah? This… this is too much…” Wang Ba stammered, feigning shock.

“No, no! Keep it! It’s only right!” Niu Yong insisted, practically pushing Wang Ba back toward the gate. “You should hurry back. Don’t keep your friend waiting!”

Wang Ba stood at the manor gate, watching Niu Yong whip his cart mules into a frenzy to leave.

He weighed the silver in his hand and nodded with satisfaction.

“It works.”