Tonight’s luck was mediocre at best. Wang Ba had to expand his search radius, running to several distant farming sections just to fill his quota.

The furthest leg of his journey brought him dangerously close to the Sect’s boundary.

Through the darkness, he spotted figures patrolling the perimeter—Outer Sect disciples. There were more of them than usual, moving in tight formations. Startled, Wang Ba immediately doubled back, his heart pounding.

Fortunately, the night wasn’t a total loss. He managed to scavenge nearly seven hundred sick fowl, converting them into roughly 1,400 years of Lifespan.

However, a worrying trend was emerging: the number of sections that could provide such a bounty of sick chickens was shrinking.

The Clean Mountain Department had been efficient, hauling away carcasses by the cartload. Meanwhile, a portion of the sick birds had leaked into the black market. Only a few daring Laborer Disciples, hoping to save their flock or make a quick buck, were still hiding the plague victims.

Wang Ba was benefiting from their secrecy for now, but he estimated this windfall wouldn’t last much longer.

On his way back to Section Ding-87, passing a secluded mountain hollow, Wang Ba abruptly stopped. As if guided by an unseen hand, he veered off the path and walked into the shadows of the depression.

Under the pale moonlight, his heightened senses picked out the anomalies instantly.

Fresh footprints. A patch of grass flattened into a makeshift seat.

Someone had been sitting here. For a long time.

Wang Ba stood in silence, the cold night air biting at his skin. This spot offered a perfect vantage point of the road he frequented.

After a long moment, he carefully rearranged the grass and smoothed the dirt to erase his own presence, restoring the hollow to how he found it. Then, he hurried back to his manor.

After a night of frantic labor, the moon began to dim, surrendering to the pre-dawn gloom—the darkest moment of the day.

Exhausted but mentally wired, Wang Ba lay on his bed. He tossed and turned, his restlessness disturbing Alpha-Seven, who was curled up on the bedside rug.

“Cluck?”

The hen lifted her heavy eyelids, looking at him with groggy confusion.

“Go back to sleep.”

Wang Ba absently patted her head. He pulled up his System panel, hesitated for a heartbeat, and then made his choice.

[Current Lifespan: -2,304 Years]

[Physique Strengthening Scripture: Ninth Layer — Completed]

Boom.

A torrent of heat washed through him.

“Finally… the Ninth Layer!”

Wang Ba clenched his fists, feeling the terrifying power surging through his veins. He couldn’t help but let out a long, internal sigh.

It had been nearly a year since he arrived at the Sect. A year of walking on eggshells, acting humble, bowing low, and avoiding every possible conflict.

The Tenth Layer of the Physique Strengthening Scripture, once a distant dream, was now right in front of him.

Just one more step. Once he mastered the Tenth Layer, he would birth a Spiritual Root. He would step into the world of true cultivators and finally earn the qualification to seek immortality.

But standing at this threshold, he finally understood the weight of Deacon Li’s words from all those months ago.

‘If you ever have the chance to reach the Ninth Layer, you will understand…’

He understood now.

At this moment, every meridian and acupoint in his body had been blasted open.

In the mortal world, he would be hailed as a peerless martial arts prodigy—a “one-in-ten-thousand” genius who had opened the Ren and Du Meridians.

But ironically, this perfection was a dead end.

Because his meridians were fully open, the shortcut used by ordinary wealthy mortals—consuming Meridian-Unblocking Grass seeds to force progress—was now useless. There were no more blockages to clear.

Everyone who reached this stage was forced back to the same starting line. To bridge the gap from the Ninth to the Tenth Layer, one had to rely solely on natural talent to traverse a cultivation journey that theoretically took 512 years.

Some might be faster, some slower.

But how many mortals possessed enough talent to condense five centuries of cultivation into a single human lifetime?

Even if they did, by the time they succeeded, they would be frail, gray-haired old men. What point was there in seeking the Dao then?

This was the chasm.

An almost insurmountable divide that stood before every mortal who reached the Perfection of the Ninth Layer. It was nature’s way of saying stop.

Wang Ba looked at his panel again.

[Current Lifespan: 247.9 Years] [Consumable Project: “Physique Strengthening Scripture” Tenth Layer] [Based on Comprehensive Aptitude and Root Bone, Conversion Requires: 4,608 Years]

“Hmm. Not a big problem.”

He almost laughed. When Deacon Li had warned him, he had been terrified of some mystical bottleneck or trial.

Turns out, the price was just Lifespan.

As long as he stuck to his routine, continuously hoarding Rare Fowl and converting them, he could brute-force his way across the chasm and birth a Spiritual Root in record time.

In the midst of all the danger, this was the best news he had received in months.

“Six more days. Just survive six more days, and I’ll see the light at the end of the tunnel!”

Through the freshly papered window lattice, Wang Ba saw a faint gray light bleaching the horizon.

Dawn was breaking.

Early in the morning, Wang Ba rose to clean the manor.

With his breakthrough to the Ninth Layer, his stamina was boundless. Even with barely any sleep, his energy recovered rapidly.

He squeezed in another training session with Alpha-Seven.

The power of food was infinite. Enticed by the promise of Tendon-Severing Nematodes, Alpha-Seven executed every command with military precision. The ‘Cover’ maneuver, in particular, was becoming instinctual.

He didn’t dare keep her out for long, sending her back to the coop to await orders.

“Pity. If only I had a Spirit Beast Bag, I could carry her with me to deal with emergencies,” Wang Ba thought with a twinge of regret.

Of course, even if he had one, he lacked the Spiritual Power to operate it.

To his surprise, Old Hou swung by later that morning.

The old man chatted casually, his face wearing its usual friendly mask. There was not a hint of awkwardness, as if the fact that he had nearly murdered Wang Ba a few days ago was just a fever dream.

“This Old Hou… I always pegged him for a harmless big mouth. I never realized he was such a ruthless character.”

Wang Ba watched the donkey cart rumble away, the old man humming a folk tune.

He composed himself and returned to the grind: fermenting feed, feeding the flock, sweeping the coops.

Niu Yong’s younger brother didn’t show up to collect the manure today. Wang Ba simply shoveled it into a pile and set it aside.

In the afternoon, he grabbed two Spirit Poultry and a basket of eggs, then headed for the West Garden Market.

He hadn’t visited in a few days, but the atmosphere had shifted drastically. The bustling energy was gone. Most shop fronts were deserted, the foot traffic sparse and hurried.

Except for three specific locations: the Talisman Shop, the Pill Shop, and the Magical Artifact Shop.

Crowds crushed against their doors. Shouts of bargaining and desperation filled the air.

“Magic-free ‘Low Grade Armor Talismans’! Blocks attacks from cultivators below Qi Refining Level 3! Only 3 Low Grade Spirit Stones a sheet!”

“Life-saving ‘Yunxian Dew’! 9 Spirit Stones a drop! Regenerates flesh and bone, practically revives the dead!”

“Spirit Stone-powered ‘Low Grade Magical Artifact – Baohua Mirror’! Withstands Qi Refining Level 4 attacks! Discount price starting at 20 Spirit Stones!”

Every time a hawker yelled, a swarm of Laborer Disciples and deacons raised their hands, waving pouches of stones, screaming to buy. Bidding wars broke out instantly.

“Brother, hey! What’s going on?”

Wang Ba grabbed a young Laborer Disciple who was trying to shove his way into the fray.

“Stockpiling Supplies, you idiot!”

The young man tried to shake him off impatiently. But when he felt the two Rare Fowl eggs Wang Ba pressed into his palm, his expression softened. He pocketed the bribe quickly.

“Ah, a friend from the Ding Section? No wonder you’re clueless. You guys never come out.”

He glanced left and right, then lowered his voice.

“I heard—just rumors, mind you—that the Sect is going to war!”

“War?”

The word felt alien. It struck Wang Ba with a sense of jarring unreality.

“Well, maybe not ‘war’ exactly. More like… an expedition. Yes, a campaign!” the young man corrected himself. “They say our Sect has been invited by allies to attack someone else. Think about it—whether we get drafted to the front lines or stay back to guard the Sect, if some blind enemy attacks us, we need to defend ourselves, right?”

“That’s why everyone is losing their minds over Talismans and Artifacts that don’t require Spiritual Power to use. You can’t find them anywhere!”

Wang Ba’s heart sank. He gripped the man’s arm tighter.

“Brother, do you know which Sects are allied with us? When does it start? And who is the enemy?”

“Which Sects?” The young disciple scratched his head. “I heard it’s the Nine Spirits Sect, the Mountain Sea Sect, the Great Sun Gate, and the Red River Sword Sect…”

“As for when, or who we’re fighting… I don’t know. You know how it is. We’re just laborers. We hear the small stuff, but the big shots don’t tell us the grand strategy.”

Wang Ba nodded slowly and slipped two more eggs into the man’s hand.

The young disciple grinned sheepishly. “Look, I really don’t know the details, but…”

He looked around again. The crowd was in a frenzy; no one was paying them any attention. He leaned in, his lips barely moving.

“This part isn’t a rumor. If Laborer Disciples sign up for the expedition and earn merit… the big shots in the Sect have promised huge rewards.”

“They say you can even be granted a Spirit Root immediately and promoted to an Outer Sect disciple!”

“Thank you,” Wang Ba said sincerely.

The young man waved and dove back into the chaotic crush of bodies.

Wang Ba forced a smile, but internally, his mind was a storm.

Merit? Rewards? He couldn’t care less.

But the names of the Sects the boy mentioned… he recognized them. He had read about them in the travelogues he bought from the bookstore.

Like the Eastern Sage Sect, they were all immortal sects located within the ‘State of Chen’. In fact, they represented nearly all the major powers in the region.

The Nine Spirits Sect was famous for beast taming. The Mountain Sea Sect excelled in body refining. The Great Sun Gate possessed visualization techniques unmatched in the State of Chen. The Red River Sword Sect was ranked number one in offensive power.

The Eastern Sage Sect was among them, but according to the travelogues, it was the runt of the litter. Wang Ba vaguely recalled that in the last Grand Competition for the younger generation of the State of Chen, the Eastern Sage Sect had placed dead last.

If all these major powers were uniting, what kind of enemy were they facing?

Was it a threat from outside the State of Chen?

The geopolitics felt distant, but the implications were immediate. The key question was: Will this war ruin my escape plan?

“No. I need to see for myself.”

The mood to spectate vanished. Wang Ba hurried to the grain shop and sold his two Spirit Poultry.

Thanks to the looming war and the scarcity caused by the Avian Plague, the price of meat had skyrocketed. He walked away with nearly twenty Spirit Stones.

Pocketing the wealth, he adjusted his clothes to obscure his face slightly and hurried toward South Lake Village.