Wang Ba would never know exactly what kind of man Lu Yuansheng had been.

But through Senior Brother Zhao, he had caught a glimpse of the former First Disciple’s shadow—a legacy of charisma and honor that made one yearn to have met him.

As for Zhao Feng’s kindness, Wang Ba etched it firmly into his heart. Yet, he was not one to dwell on sentimentality for long.

He carefully tucked the jade pendant into his inner robe, pressing it close to his chest. The faint thrum of the sword aura inside gave him a newfound sense of security.

He had planned to visit the market to purchase more magic-free tools—talismans, pills, perhaps another artifact—but the sky had already darkened into a bruised purple. He had no choice but to return home.

That night, Wang Ba forced himself to devour a significant amount of Spirit Poultry meat, then immediately sat cross-legged for visualization.

Having reached the Perfection of the Ninth Layer in the Physique Strengthening Scripture, his body had transformed. His appetite was ravenous, his digestion furnace-hot. As he visualized, he noticed a sharp uptick in the condensation rate of his Yin God Power.

By the time he opened his eyes, he had condensed nearly half a drop.

One drop every two days. The efficiency had skyrocketed.

Around midnight, when the sky was a vast, ink-black dome, Wang Ba slipped out of the manor with four Spirit Chickens in tow. He headed for the neighboring Ding sections, hoping to swap for more sick fowl.

The results were disappointing. After running himself ragged across multiple estates, he barely managed to secure two hundred birds.

Worse, the night sky was busy. Even at this hour, streaks of light—Sect disciples flying on artifacts—cut through the darkness overhead. Wang Ba dared not linger in the open.

He retreated to his manor and absorbed the Lifespan from his meager haul.

[Current Lifespan: 658.7 Years]

He stared at the number. The gap to the Tenth Layer’s requirement of 4,608 years was still a chasm of nearly 4,000 years.

I still need over two thousand Rare Fowl… or six hundred Spirit Poultry.

I’ll have to try the market tomorrow.

On the walk back, Wang Ba weighed his options.

The market was far less convenient than the farms. In the Ding sections, the transaction was clean: he absorbed the Lifespan, left the carcasses, and the local laborers handled the disposal. In the crowded market, disposing of hundreds of drained chickens without raising suspicion was a logistical nightmare.

But he had no choice. If he didn’t seize this moment to break through and birth a Spirit Root, he might never get another chance once he fled the Sect.

He mentally organized his schedule for the next day and finally collapsed onto his bed.

Despite his enhanced vitality, the day’s physical and mental exertion dragged him into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning.

Fighting through the lingering drowsiness, Wang Ba dragged himself up. Alpha-Seven, who had already risen and relieved herself in the yard, was waiting.

Daily training began.

Whoosh!

Wang Ba wound up and hurled a palm-sized stone with all his might.

With his Ninth Layer strength, the stone screamed through the air, moving fast enough to crack a mortal skull on impact.

But Alpha-Seven was faster.

While Wang Ba’s eyes could still trace the stone’s trajectory, the hen vanished. She became a golden blur, a streak of motion that intercepted the projectile mid-flight.

Crack.

By the time she rematerialized, the stone had been reduced to gravel the size of fingernails.

“Excellent!”

Wang Ba nodded in satisfaction and tossed her a Tendon-Severing Nematode.

Alpha-Seven snatched the worm from the air and swallowed it whole, then affectionately rubbed her head against his palm.

In just two or three days, their synergy had become seamless. She executed his commands with terrifying precision. Aside from her inability to speak, her intelligence felt comparable to a human child of six or seven.

In this lonely, desolate manor, she was the closest thing he had to a companion.

Later that morning, Old Hou arrived with the chicken feed. The impending war didn’t seem to weigh on him; he hummed a cheerful tune as he unloaded the sacks.

But Niu Yong’s younger brother was absent again.

“I wonder if he found Niu Yong…” Wang Ba muttered, watching the empty road.

Deep down, he knew the answer. In the Sect, if you went missing for this long, you weren’t coming back.

He sighed, pushing the grim thought away. He had his own survival to worry about.

In the afternoon, just as he was preparing to pack a few Spirit Poultry for the East Mountain Market, an unexpected visitor derailed his plans.

“Oh! Deacon Li! What wind blew you here?”

Wang Ba pasted a servile smile on his face, bowing at the waist and gesturing for the man to enter.

“Hah, can’t I visit without the wind? No need to go inside. I’m just here to deliver two pieces of good news.”

Deacon Li stood at the gate, hands clasped behind his back, smiling broadly.

He looked slightly thinner than before—though compared to a normal person, he was still a mountain of flesh.

Wang Ba sensed the man’s Yin God Power circulating slowly, a clumsy attempt to mimic a mortal aura. He remained on high alert, feigning curiosity.

“May I ask… what good news?”

“You’ve heard we’re going to war with the State of Fu, yes?” Deacon Li beamed. “Well, due to a manpower shortage, the External Affairs Hall drafted a batch of Laborer Disciples for the front lines. Your name came up…”

“What?!”

Wang Ba froze.

The front lines?

How the hell is that good news?!

Rationally, he knew some laborers would kill for this chance. Surviving the war might earn them a favor from the Sect, perhaps even help condensing a Spirit Root. It was a high-risk, high-reward gamble.

But Wang Ba didn’t need the reward. He had a System.

He just needed to leave the Eastern Sage Sect, find a quiet hole, and farm chickens. Why would he risk being cannon fodder?

Worse, how was he supposed to escape under the watchful eyes of an army of Qi Refining and Foundation Establishment cultivators?

“…However,” Deacon Li drew the word out, savoring the suspense, “I figured a man who loves raising chickens as much as you wouldn’t be interested in fighting. So, I took the liberty of rejecting the draft on your behalf.”

He looked at Wang Ba with a benevolent, ‘I got your back’ expression.

That gasping bastard!

Wang Ba wanted to strangle him for the dramatic pause, but the relief was overwhelming.

“Thank you, Deacon Li! I… this lowly one is timid by nature. I really don’t have the guts for the battlefield.”

He dashed into the house and returned with a small bucket of Spirit Poultry eggs, presenting them with both hands.

“Oh, Brother Wang, look at you! With our relationship, is this necessary?”

Deacon Li’s eyes vanished into the folds of his smiling face. His mouth said no, but his hands grabbed the bucket with practiced speed.

The man played the role of a corrupt parasite to perfection.

Keep acting, Wang Ba sneered internally.

“Then… may I ask what the second piece of good news is?”

“Ah, right. The higher-ups finally responded to your success in breeding Spirit Poultry.”

Deacon Li’s tone turned business-like.

“Elder Qian of the Myriad Beast Department—the one in charge of the Ding Sections—specifically instructed me to bring you to ‘Ding-Nine Section’ every afternoon. You are to assist the caretakers there and learn from them.”

He patted Wang Ba’s shoulder. “You’ve caught the eye of an Elder, kid. If you play this right, you might have a shot at longevity. Tell me, isn’t that good news?”

Wang Ba’s smile stiffened.

“…It is! It certainly is! Haha, I really have to thank you for this!”

He forced the words through gritted teeth.

Good news? You just ruined my schedule!

He had planned to go to the market to trade for resources and gather intel. Now he was being dragged off to do unpaid labor?

Deacon Li, oblivious to Wang Ba’s internal screaming, seemed genuinely proud of himself for landing Wang Ba this “opportunity.”

Without delay, he personally escorted Wang Ba toward the Sect’s core area.

From a distance, Wang Ba spotted Ding-Nine Section. It sat halfway up a lush, spiritual hill.

It wasn’t alone. Similar estates dotted the landscape. Deacon Li explained that the first ten Ding Sections—Ding-One through Ding-Ten—were all clustered here.

“These ten estates house ninety percent of the Sect’s Spirit Poultry,” Deacon Li said, pointing at the sprawling complex. “There are Immortals overseeing them day and night. It’s the pinnacle of poultry farming in the Eastern Sage Sect. Brother, you must seize this chance!”

Wang Ba nodded mechanically, but he wasn’t listening anymore.

His gaze had drifted past Deacon Li, locking onto the interior of Ding-Nine Section.

Thousands of Spirit Poultry.

An ocean of feathers and vitality.

His eyes widened, practically glowing with hunger.

Lifespan.

So much Lifespan.