Cultivation: I Can Steal Lifespan from Spirit Beasts

“Dare I ask, friend, what business brings you here?”

Although he had no idea why this mysterious cultivator had suddenly appeared, Wang Ba took the initiative to break the silence.

The cultivator in gray robes slowly turned around to face him.

His features were blurred by magic, a standard disguise similar to the ones used by Lu Yuansheng and Yu Changchun. This immediately caused Wang Ba’s heart to tighten.

The aura emanating from the stranger was deep, heavy, and suffocating. It triggered an instinctive, high-level danger warning in Wang Ba’s mind.

He couldn’t help but wonder:

Is this a Left Path cultivator? Or a disciple from the main Sect?

The gray-robed man finally spoke, his voice raspy and muffled, as if passing through gravel.

“Heh. Senior Brother Zhao truly has a sharp eye.”

Senior Brother Zhao?!

Wang Ba was startled, but his mind remained icy calm.

Among the Left Path cultivators at the Sword Billow Garrison, almost everyone was a remnant of the Eastern Sage Sect. Who didn’t have a few old acquaintances among the current disciples?

The real questions were: Who is this man? And why does he know about my connection to Zhao Feng?

Externally, however, Wang Ba’s face remained a mask of polite confusion.

“Fellow Daoist, I’m afraid I don’t understand what you’re referring to.”

Underneath his robes, his Spiritual Power surged silently, infusing his High Grade Jade Flow Armor. He was ready to detonate a stack of talismans at the slightest twitch.

Unexpectedly, the gray-robed cultivator shook his head slightly.

“Just a joke. Fellow Daoist need not be so nervous.”

Wang Ba narrowed his eyes. He did not relax a single muscle.

Seeing the lack of response, the gray-robed cultivator sighed helplessly. “Forget it. I’ll be direct. The prices in the market have become absurd. I heard rumors that you sell Spirit Poultry privately. I wish to purchase a batch. Just fifty for now, and later—”

“I am truly sorry, but those are false rumors. I do not have any Spirit Poultry here.”

Wang Ba smiled politely, cutting him off.

The gray-robed cultivator froze.

“None? How can there be none?”

“None. My apologies. Please, seek your wares elsewhere.”

Wang Ba maintained his plastic smile.

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked directly back into the chicken farm, leaving the man standing alone in the dust.

The stranger seemed completely unprepared for such a blunt refusal.

He stood there for a long moment before finally reacting. He cast a deep, meaningful look at the farm’s defensive array, shook his head, stepped onto his Magical Artifact, and vanished.

Inside the farm.

Wang Ba’s expression instantly turned cold.

“Dong Qiyu?”

It wasn’t a difficult guess.

For Wang Ba to feel a threat to his life, the stranger’s strength had to be above the Qi Refining ninth layer.

A Foundation Establishment cultivator wouldn’t bother with petty disguises or cryptic banter in front of a junior.

That meant the man was likely at the tenth layer of Qi Refining.

Furthermore, he knew about the relationship between Wang Ba and Zhao Feng, and even referred to Zhao as “Senior Brother.” This implied the stranger was also a former disciple of the Eastern Sage Sect.

The identity was practically screaming itself.

It was either Dong Qiyu or Meng Randao.

Among the Eastern Sage remnants, only these two possessed tenth-layer cultivation.

Meng Randao was known to be surrounded by a posse of followers; if he needed chickens, he would have sent a lackey.

Dong Qiyu, however, was a loner. Reclusive. Mysterious. The probability was ninety-nine percent.

Of course, one couldn’t rule out that the Left Path community was a place of “hidden dragons and crouching tigers,” concealing other tenth-layer experts.

But regardless of the truth, Wang Ba’s policy was absolute: Avoid.

Disguised faces, secretive behavior, cryptic connections—this man was a walking nexus of secrets.

And secrets were just another word for “fatal trouble.”

Wang Ba hated trouble.

He waited a considerable time to ensure “Dong Qiyu” was truly gone. Only then did he grab a few Black Feather Chickens and head for the teleportation array to the Sword Billow Garrison.

Upon returning from the Sword Billow Garrison.

Wang Ba stepped into his wooden hut.

He glanced at the bed, table, and cabinets. Everything was organized with military precision. He knew Bu Chan had been here.

He frowned.

“That girl. How many times have I told her? Cleaning is a waste of time. She needs to focus on cultivation.”

Shaking his head, he sat down.

First, he checked his Spirit Beast Bag. The Shield-Armored Giant-Headed Turtles and the dozens of Yellow-Throated Stone Turtles were in good condition. He set them aside.

Next, he opened his Storage Bag and carefully removed a large basin.

Inside sat a trembling, gelatinous mass—neither quite water nor meat.

This was the “Spirit Poultry Essence.”

It had cost him over a hundred Spirit Stones to hire a professional Spirit Chef at the garrison to concentrate the vitality of two hundred Spirit Poultry into this single basin.

He scooped out a small chunk with his Spiritual Power and placed it in his mouth.

It dissolved instantly.

A massive surge of Spiritual Qi and blood essence exploded in his mouth, rushing like a flood into his limbs, Dantian, and mind.

The Spiritual Power vortex in his Dantian began to spin spontaneously, generating new strands of power at a visible rate.

Simultaneously, within his Yin Spirit Abode, the Yin Spirit Power he had burned during the conquest of Mirror Moon Mansion began to replenish rapidly.

Even his physical body seemed to undergo subtle strengthening.

He shoveled several more mouthfuls into his face.

Only when he felt a bloating sensation—a sign that his body could process no more—did he stop.

“No wonder Yan Chi cultivates so quickly…”

These few mouthfuls were equivalent to half a day of bitter cultivation in the Spirit Water Courtyard.

However, the cost was terrifying. At this rate of consumption, this basin—representing two hundred Low Grade chickens—would be gone in less than two months.

If his production costs weren’t essentially zero, he would have gone bankrupt instantly.

The cultivator surnamed Yan could only afford this because of his windfall from Mirror Moon Mansion and his desperate bid for the Legacy Talisman.

“If I keep using this Essence as a supplement… the journey to the ninth layer of Qi Refining, originally estimated at two years, might be cut to just over a year.”

“I need to ramp up production. The Rare Fowls need another cycle.”

Previously, Wang Ba had capped his flock at five or six hundred to avoid attracting greed. That number was sufficient for trading, supplying Yu Changchun, and his own modest needs.

But now that Low Grade chickens had a high-value use, the brakes were off.

His plan was simple: artificially inseminate a batch of mature female Rare Fowls. Once the eggs were laid and near hatching, he would use his Lifespan ability to instantly mature the embryos into Low Grade chickens.

This method kept the feed costs manageable while ensuring a steady stream of meat.

Once hatched and matured, he would bag them, transport them to the garrison, and pay the chef to process them.

It was an efficient cycle.

He had actually tried to apprentice under the Spirit Chef to learn the concentration technique himself.

The chef had glared at him and refused point-blank.

“Teaching the apprentice starves the master. Besides, if you learn it, who will pay me my Spirit Stones?”

Facing the chubby chef’s brutal honesty, Wang Ba had retreated awkwardly.

He really just wanted to save money.

The processing fees were exorbitant. With the decline in bulk orders from Yan and others, Wang Ba was starting to run a deficit. Without a new income stream, his savings would dry up in a few months, cutting off his supply of Essence.

But with no immediate solution, he could only grit his teeth and maintain the status quo.

Time flew by.

Pots of Spirit Poultry Essence were consumed.

His Spiritual Power grew deeper and denser.

The barrier to the ninth layer of Qi Refining drew closer every day.

Six months later.

In the meditation chamber of the Spirit Water Courtyard, Wang Ba slowly opened his eyes.

“Less than half a year left. I should be able to break through.”

His progress was even faster than he had calculated.

Suddenly.

Knock, knock, knock.

Someone was pounding on the chamber door.

Wang Ba’s expression shifted.

Only he and Bu Chan lived in the Spirit Water Courtyard. Bu Chan knew better than to disturb him during cultivation.

For her to knock now, something catastrophic must have happened.

Wang Ba stood up and threw the door open.

Bu Chan stood there, her face pale with panic.

“Senior Brother! Shen Fu is critically injured!”

“What?!”

Wang Ba didn’t waste a second on questions. “Take me to him. Now.”

“He’s at the chicken farm.”

Wang Ba immediately summoned the Flying Yellow Ruler. With his near-ninth-layer Spiritual Power, the artifact hummed with power.

“Hold on tight!”

Bu Chan jumped onto the ruler behind him. In her panic, her soft, fair arms wrapped tightly around Wang Ba’s waist.

Wang Ba frowned.

“You’re grabbing the wrong thing. Hold onto my clothes.”

Bu Chan: “…”

Her pale face flushed crimson. She bit her lip and glared hatefully at the back of his head, switching her grip to his robes.

Wang Ba, oblivious to the mood, channeled his power and launched them into the sky.

Moments later, they descended at the chicken farm.

Wang Ba rushed inside.

By the small wooden hut, Shen Fu sat cross-legged, his face as white as a sheet. His aura was flickering like a candle in the wind.

“Senior Brother…” Shen Fu wheezed.

“Don’t talk. Don’t resist. Let me check.”

Wang Ba strode forward, pressing a hand against Shen Fu’s back. He carefully threaded strands of Spiritual Power into the younger man’s body.

A moment later, he withdrew his hand, his face grim.

“Your Dantian’s vortex is nearly shattered… You were an inch away from being crippled. What happened?”

Shen Fu smiled weakly. In front of the Senior Brother he respected most, he dared not hide anything.

“I accepted a sect mission recently… The objective was to capture a Foundation Establishment female cultivator for the Joyous Life Path…”

“Foundation Establishment?!” Bu Chan gasped, staring at him in horror. “Are you insane?”

Wang Ba frowned, but unlike Bu Chan, he remained analytical.

“I know you aren’t stupid. Why would you accept a suicide mission?”

Shen Fu seemed comforted by Wang Ba’s faith in his intelligence. He shook his head.

“If it were ordinary rewards, I wouldn’t have risked it. But… one of the rewards for this mission was a Foundation Establishment Pill.”

“What?!”

Bu Chan’s jaw dropped.

As a daughter of a cultivation clan, she knew exactly what that pill was worth. Wars were fought for less.

Even Wang Ba couldn’t hide his shock. “A Foundation Establishment Pill?”

But his surprise wasn’t just about the item—it was that Shen Fu would risk his life to get one for him.

Seeing Wang Ba’s gaze, Shen Fu smiled bitterly.

“I’ve had no parents since I was a child. I was lucky to enter the Eastern Sage Sect, but who knew I’d end up a Left Path outcast so soon?”

“Meeting Senior Brother, Bu Chan, and… Lingling gave my life value.”

“But Lingling is gone. I don’t want you two to follow her.”

Shen Fu’s eyes reddened, but he forced his smile to remain wide.

“I just thought… if Senior Brother could become a Foundation Establishment True Cultivator, you would become a full member of the Heavenly Gate Sect. You would be our ‘Big Backer’. With your temperament, you wouldn’t mistreat us.”

“Then, maybe we wouldn’t end up like Lingling and Cai Xiang…”

Shen Fu choked up, unable to continue.

Silence fell over the group.

After a long pause, Wang Ba spoke quietly.

“So you took the mission. Were you alone? No… if you were alone, a Foundation Establishment cultivator would have vaporized you before you could flee.”

Shen Fu nodded.

“I wasn’t alone. Many Left Path cultivators went. But… we never even saw the target.”

“Not long after leaving the sect, we ran into a group of strange people.”

Recall flashed in Shen Fu’s eyes, turning into pure fear.

“They were… wrong. Their bodies were painted crimson red. Their attacks didn’t feel like Spiritual Power, and I couldn’t sense any fluctuations, yet they could kill from a distance. The moment they saw us, they attacked.”

“Several cultivators with higher cultivation than mine died instantly. Their deaths were… miserable. Bizarre.”

“We scattered and ran. Maybe because I was weak, after someone hit me from a distance, they didn’t bother chasing me.”

Shen Fu shook his head self-deprecatingly, then paused.

“Right. When they attacked, they were shouting something… something about ‘Yin Spirit’ and ‘Dream Lord’…”