Wang Ba trailed behind Shopkeeper Lu, winding through the backyard of Lu’s Grain Depot. Past the clucking coops and grunting sties, they finally halted before a sealed, windowless room.

The darkness inside was absolute—a heavy, suffocating pitch-black that seemed to press against his eyes.

Wang Ba’s heart began to hammer against his ribs. Paranoia, sharp and cold, spiked in his chest.

Did he find out?

The thought struck him like a splash of ice water. Does he know I have two Spirit Stones tucked away? Is he planning to rob me blind and bury the body right here in the dark?

A chill crawled down his spine, and his throat felt like it had been stuffed with sawdust. He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice steady.

“Ahem. Shopkeeper Lu… what exactly are you showing me? I thought we were discussing a substitute for Meridian-Unblocking Grass seeds?”

“Patience, esteemed guest. We are here.”

Shopkeeper Lu’s voice floated out from the darkness ahead.

Before Wang Ba could ask another question, a match flared. A single candle flickered to life, illuminating the space before him.

“Shopkeeper Lu, this is—”

The words died in his throat. Wang Ba’s eyes widened until they hurt.

Under the wavering candlelight, the room came into focus. It was a nightmare made flesh. Countless bizarre, writhing creatures coated every surface—twisting, turning, and pulsating like severed arteries. They clung to the walls, the wooden beams, the table…

The entire room looked like a massive, grotesque insect nest.

“Ghh—”

Wang Ba gasped, stumbling back, his mouth hanging open in shock.

” ‘Ghh’ what?” Shopkeeper Lu looked back, puzzled, before following Wang Ba’s gaze. He chuckled. “Ah. Allow me to introduce the Tendon-Severing Nematodes. A special type of low-grade, First Rank spirit insect.”

“They thrive by parasitizing living hosts,” Lu explained casually, as if discussing tea leaves. “They burrow through flesh to pierce meridians and sever tendons. A violent process, yes, and one that rapidly burns through their already short Lifespan… hence the name.”

As he spoke, a wet plop sounded.

Wang Ba watched, frozen, as a tentacle-like worm dropped from a ceiling beam and landed squarely on Shopkeeper Lu’s head. It writhed for a split second before finding his ear canal.

Squirm. Wriggle.

It forced its way inside.

Shopkeeper Lu didn’t even flinch. He merely frowned slightly, as if swatting a fly, and continued his pitch.

“These insects fear the light. They enjoy inhabiting the bodies of humans, birds, beasts, fish… hss… anything with flesh, really. But what they love most—what they truly crave—is pure spiritual energy. Like this.”

Lu reached into his sleeve and produced a Spirit Stone, holding it flat on his palm.

The next second, Wang Ba witnessed a scene straight out of a horror story.

Shopkeeper Lu’s jaw went slack, his mouth falling open involuntarily. A pitch-black, glistening tentacle erupted from his throat, slithering out over his lip. It moved with terrifying speed, darting down his arm to wrap greedily around the Spirit Stone.

The creature pulsed and writhed against the stone in Lu’s palm, radiating an aura of sheer ecstasy.

Shopkeeper Lu stared at his hand. A flicker of disgust—and helplessness—crossed his face. He extended his arm toward Wang Ba to give him a better view.

“This is the treasure I spoke of. It can dredge your blocked meridians and accelerate your cultivation of the Physique Strengthening Scripture.”

“The price is a steal. One hundred nematodes for only two Spirit Stones. That is enough to sustain your cultivation for over ten days!”

Lu paused, offering a strained smile. “Of course… it is a bit disgusting.”

“A bit?” Wang Ba managed to choke out. “You have a gift for understatement.”

Disgusting? Wang Ba’s skin was crawling so hard he felt like he might shed it. He was terrified to even move a muscle, lest one of those things drop on him.

Still, he forced himself to remain grounded. He needed power.

“How… how exactly do these things assist cultivation?”

“Simple. You let it burrow into your body. Once inside, you circulate the Physique Strengthening Scripture. You don’t even need a Spirit Stone to lure it out,” Lu explained with terrifying candor. “Once introduced, it will rampage through your system, gnawing at your acupoints and meridians. Its body will eventually dissolve, naturally unblocking your pathways in the process.”

Lu shrugged. “There is a small side effect, however. The process is… excruciating. The pain can be quite hard to endure.”

“But compared to the impossibility of forging a Spiritual Root? These are trivial matters.”

Shopkeeper Lu was being incredibly honest. Suspiciously honest.

Wang Ba fell silent, his mind racing. High risk, high pain, but potentially high reward.

“Two Spirit Stones for a hundred…” Wang Ba shook his head. “Too expensive.”

Lu didn’t blink. “Then what do you consider appropriate?”

Wang Ba recalled a piece of wisdom from his mother in his previous life: When haggling, take a machete to the price. Cut it in half and wait for them to counter.

He gritted his teeth.

“Two hundred worms. Two Spirit Stones.”

“Deal!”

Shopkeeper Lu answered instantly. The reply was crisp, decisive, and terrifyingly fast.

It was so fast that even as Wang Ba walked out of the depot, clutching the gourd filled with nematodes, he felt a lingering sense of confusion.

Why didn’t he counter-offer?

Are the margins on these things that high?

He couldn’t shake the feeling that he had won, yet simultaneously been played for a fool.

Inside the dark room, Shopkeeper Lu watched Wang Ba disappear.

The moment the guest was gone, Lu’s composure shattered. He unclenched his hands from behind his back—his knuckles were white, his fingers trembling. His face twisted into a mask of agony.

“Gods… it hurts! It hurts like hell!”

He doubled over, gasping. Yet, despite the sweat pouring down his face, a twisted grin broke through the pain. He started humming a cheerful little tune.

The strange sight drew the attention of his young attendant.

“Master? It was just a two-stone deal. Why are you so happy? I haven’t seen you this pleased even when we sell twenty stones’ worth of grain.”

“What do you know, boy?” Lu gasped, clutching his stomach. “Those things were eating me alive! I finally managed to offload some of that losing stock! If that guy had more money, I would have sold him the whole nest for a discount!”

Lu looked at the remaining worms on the walls with sheer hatred.

“Do you know how many of my Spirit Stones they’ve eaten?”

“Ah,” the boy realized. “Then… yes, that is worth celebrating.”

Back at the manor, Wang Ba sat on the stone steps, inspecting his haul.

Next to the gourd of nightmares lay a packet of medicine. “Rare Fowl Aphrodisiac.” It had cost him three hundred taels of silver at the herbalist.

“Three hundred taels… absolutely black-hearted,” Wang Ba muttered.

He didn’t waste time. He eagerly portioned out a dose, mixed it with water, and poured it into the feeding trough of the large male Rare Fowl.

Time to test the merchandise.

He watched patiently as the rooster pecked up the medicated water.

It didn’t take long. The rooster began to pace. It grew restless, flapping its wings agitatedly. Despite the sun being high in the sky, it stretched its neck and let out a resounding crow.

The comb on its head swelled, turning a deep, angry red, as if engorged with blood.

Wang Ba’s eyes lit up. Success!

Anyone who had raised chickens knew the signs. That bird was fired up. The fire of desire was burning!

Sure enough, the Rare Fowl strutted forward, chest puffed out, eyes gleaming with primal intent. It slowly approached the flock.

Wang Ba held his breath.

Then, the rooster plopped itself onto the back of another male Rare Fowl and began to shake frantically.

Wang Ba’s jaw dropped.

!!!

You idiot! That’s your brother!

“No!” Wang Ba screamed internally.

He sprinted forward, intent on dragging the confused rooster off its victim. But before he could reach them, the deed was done. The rooster hopped down, looking calm, enlightened—like a sage who had seen through the vanity of the mortal world.

“Uh…”

Wang Ba rubbed his temples, feeling a phantom toothache.

That was… fast.

Refusing to accept defeat, he dosed another male rooster.

The result was even worse. The second rooster scanned the yard, ignored the hens entirely, and pounced on a young male chick.

“I don’t believe this! Is there something in the water?!”

Furious, Wang Ba grabbed the third “passionate” rooster and physically threw it into the pen with the hens, locking the gate.

Breed, damn you!

The rooster fought like a demon. It broke through the enclosure, ignored the terrified hens, and made a beeline for Wang Ba’s drying boots. It latched onto the leather and went to work with frantic, rhythmic dedication.

Wang Ba stared blankly at the scene.

Finally, unable to endure the insult any longer, he stored some Lifespan into the bird. He’d slaughter the pervert in a few days.

“It seems… this path is a dead end.”

Exhausted, Wang Ba slumped onto the cool stone steps, feeling helpless.

He finally understood why Rare Fowl were so expensive. The roosters were incorrigible. They were oil and water with the hens.

No wonder the Sect was so generous, allowing disciples to keep any surplus beyond the tribute. They knew. They had known all along that breeding these things was a nightmare. It was fake generosity.

“Self-breeding is out of the question for now,” Wang Ba sighed.

That left him with few options.

The only viable path was to buy Rare Fowl using the profits from selling Spirit Poultry. He could use his Lifespan ability to accelerate the Spirit Poultry, sell them, buy Rare Fowl, and repeat the cycle.

It was fast. It required little effort.

But there was one glaring flaw: The source.

He couldn’t explain how a humble servant had so many Spirit Poultry to sell.

He could use his Yin God power to hide his cultivation base, sure. But flooding the market with Spirit Poultry? That would attract attention. The Sect had eyes everywhere.

“So, the problem returns to the starting point,” Wang Ba muttered. “How do I launder these chickens? How do I make them look legitimate?”

His gaze drifted down to the gourd tied at his waist.

Inside, hundreds of tiny, flesh-eating horrors writhed in the dark.

The Tendon-Severing Nematodes.

A plan began to form. Perhaps… the hope of legitimizing his stock lay with them.