The Yin Spirit power could only deceive the senses; it could not erase physical reality.

To an observer, Wang Ba appeared as a pocket of empty air, but his physical body remained solid flesh and blood. If that Rare Fowl slammed into him, the impact would be undeniable. With the heightened senses of a Qi Refining disciple, any watcher would instantly detect the anomaly of a chicken colliding with “nothing.”

The Rare Fowl flapped its wings, launching itself straight at the feed behind him.

In that critical split second, a flash of inspiration—fu zhi xin ling—struck Wang Ba. He twisted his body with a subtle, fluid sidestep, narrowly letting the bird whistle past him.

The Rare Fowl landed clumsily next to the spilled grain, completely oblivious to the heart-stopping “surprise” it had nearly delivered to its owner.

“Number 86. I’ll remember you.”

Wang Ba shot a cold glance at the bird before adjusting his pace and resuming his walk toward the manor gates.

He had tagged every chicken in the coop; a single glance was enough to log its ID number in his mental ledger. Unaware that a calamity was looming over its future, the bird pecked at the grain, shook its feathered rear, and clucked contentedly.

Wang Ba focused on the path ahead. He stepped carefully, avoiding soft soil to ensure he left no footprints for the surveillance to track.

The manor gate drew closer.

One step.

Two steps.

He could feel the Yin Spirit power in his abode draining at a terrifying rate. He forced down the primal urge to sprint.

He could see the weathered mottling on the wooden gates. He could see the white stains on the threshold left by generations of chickens.

Finally, he stepped over the threshold.

Yet, the drain on his Yin Spirit power showed no sign of stopping.

Wang Ba grit his teeth. gripping the handle of the dung bucket, he maintained his facade of normalcy.

He descended the stone steps leading away from the manor.

Relax. Step lightly.

He reached the spot where he had previously dumped the waste. He didn’t stop. He kept walking.

One step. One step. One step…

With each step, his heart sank deeper into the abyss.

“What is going on? Why hasn’t the drain stopped? Did I miscalculate? Or… have I already been exposed?”

Either possibility was a death sentence.

But he had to gamble.

The Dao of Gou—staying low-profile—was a means to an end, not the end itself. And right now, there was no room left to hide.

Clenching his jaw, Wang Ba suppressed the screaming instinct to flee. He forced himself to breathe deeply, maintaining a calm, steady rhythm.

With every stride, he monitored the Yin Spirit power in his mind.

Fine beads of cold sweat began to prickle his forehead.

Finally!

After an agonizing eternity of steps, the violent spinning of the Yin Spirit power snapped to a halt.

Wang Ba’s tension broke so suddenly that he felt a wave of dizziness.

He knew it was the backlash of mental exhaustion. But he dared not stop. He forced his trembling legs to maintain the same leisurely pace.

He walked another twenty steps.

The Yin Spirit power remained still.

Only then did Wang Ba truly exhale. Fighting the urge to collapse onto the dirt, he glanced back. He was over a hundred meters away from the manor.

“The Ascension Society is paranoid beyond reason. To monitor such a massive radius… no ordinary Laborer Disciple could ever dream of escaping.”

“But my guess was right. Their surveillance is a fixed array, likely centered on the manor. It doesn’t track me dynamically.”

It was like a security camera with a wide-angle lens—impressive coverage, but immobile.

Now, standing outside the cage, two paths lay before him.

Option one: Return to the manor, play dumb, and pretend this was just a long walk.

Option two: Defect from the Sect. Right now.

“Go. I can’t wait any longer.”

A glint of ruthless determination hardened in Wang Ba’s eyes.

He had none of his supplies. No Spirit Stones, no food, no tools. The original escape plan was weeks away. Aside from the Yin Spirit Great Dream Scripture and the Buried Bone Secret Technique tucked in his robes, he was destitute.

But the invisible noose of the Ascension Society left him no choice.

As long as he was alive, there was hope.

The decision took less than a second. Without hesitation, he gripped the dung bucket, reactivated the Yin Spirit power for cover, and strode toward South Lake Village.

Once he reached a patch of tall grass far from the manor, he dumped the bucket and hid it.

He moved cautiously, hiding whenever a figure appeared in the distance. He would not let a single soul track him.

Soon, the shimmering waters of South Lake came into view, bordering the market.

The lake and mountains were breathtaking, a painted scroll of natural beauty. Wang Ba didn’t spare them a glance. His hand subconsciously sought the jade pendant Zhao Feng had given him.

He recalled Zhao Feng’s warning: A major upheaval is coming to the Sect.

“Is the Ascension Society this ‘upheaval’?”

The thought flickered and died.

He shook his head. Whatever dogshit mess the Sect was in, it would soon have nothing to do with him. Once he was gone, let the heavens fall; he wouldn’t be there to catch them.

To avoid the crowds of the market, he took a wide detour, aiming for the quieter South Lake Village.

Suddenly, the Yin Spirit power in his abode screamed into motion!

“What?! Someone’s watching? The rotation speed… it’s faster than Yu Changchun’s!”

Wang Ba’s heart hammered against his ribs, threatening to burst out of his throat.

But just as quickly as it started, the spinning stopped.

“A Sect disciple passing by?”

Wang Ba cautiously looked up. In the corner of his eye, he caught a streak of light flashing across the distant sky, descending into South Lake Village ahead.

“South Lake Village?”

He hesitated, then resumed his approach.

It was rare for formal disciples to visit mortal settlements, but not unheard of, especially since many cultivators housed their families there.

However, after only a few steps, Wang Ba’s face drained of color.

The crimson droplet in his Yin Spirit Abode began to spin with terrifying, unprecedented violence!

Whoosh!

In a single instant, more than half of a droplet of Yin Spirit power evaporated!

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw it—a dazzling streak of light, radiating power so intense it distorted the air, plunging toward the village at a horrific speed.

Within that brilliance, he caught a flash of regal purple.

“Inner Sect!”

“Qi Refining… no. Foundation Establishment!”

“Is that a Foundation Establishment Ancestor?!”

The Yin Spirit power spun for less than a second before the gaze passed, but the shockwaves in Wang Ba’s mind refused to settle.

This was his first encounter with a being of that level.

Even from a distance, the fluctuation of Spiritual Qi was so dense it felt solid. It was the pressure of a prehistoric beast looming over an ant.

Awe and terror etched the moment into his memory.

Then came the suspicion.

“Foundation Establishment cultivators are high above the clouds. They never descend to the mundane world. Why is one here?”

“First a Qi Refining disciple, now a Foundation Establishment powerhouse. What is happening in South Lake Village?”

“Did Rat-Head Gou Mu get exposed?”

“If that’s the case… am I walking into a trap?”

Wang Ba’s mind swarmed with questions, none of which had answers.

He wanted to investigate. He needed to know.

But with a Foundation Establishment cultivator present, walking into the village was suicide. Under such a powerful gaze, his Yin Spirit power would burn out in seconds, revealing him instantly.

And if he didn’t use the disguise? If the Ascension Society had agents in the village, he was equally dead.

Wolves ahead, tigers behind.

He took several deep, stabilizing breaths. The decision was forced, but clear.

He turned on his heel.

Target changed: South Lake Market.