Chu Erniu’s violent outburst caught Wang Ba completely off guard.

Strictly speaking, it wasn’t just surprise; it was disbelief. He had never imagined Chu Erniu would attack him, simply because there was no logical reason to do so.

He had stayed in his lane. He had been invisible.

So when the standard-issue magic sword came whistling through the air, aiming to split his skull, Wang Ba survived only by instinct. Relying on the superior reflexes granted by his body cultivation, he threw himself into a desperate roll.

Clang!

The sword missed flesh but found wood. The iron-shod shovel Wang Ba had been using to scoop chicken manure was sheared in half as easily as a stalk of wheat. The severed wooden handle spun through the air and slammed into Wang Ba’s back with a dull thud.

He grunted, pain flaring across his spine.

“Die!”

Having missed his first strike, Chu Erniu screamed, his eyes bloodshot and bulging like a madman’s. He swung the sword again, a wild, chaotic slash aimed at Wang Ba’s prone form.

It was a clumsy strike, devoid of technique, but the blade hummed with the weight of Spiritual Power. If that edge touched him, Wang Ba knew he would be cleaved in two.

Lunatic!

Wang Ba gritted his teeth and rolled forward again, uncaring of the filth that smeared his robes. He had no time to think. Deep within his Yin Spirit Abode, his Yin Spirit power surged, spinning rapidly to weave a sensory illusion. He projected a slightly displaced image of himself into Chu Erniu’s perception, buying himself a fraction of a second.

Simultaneously, his hand darted into his robe, fingers closing around the cold, hard surface of the jade pendant.

Clang!

The sword struck the stone floor, sparking violently, missing Wang Ba by a hair’s breadth.

Chu Erniu raised the weapon for a third strike, his face twisted in a rictus of hate. But before he could bring it down, a cold voice cut through the courtyard.

“Stop!”

Senior Brother Shi had arrived.

The commotion had alerted the manor’s master. With the speed of a sixth-layer Qi Refining cultivator, he had crossed the distance in the blink of an eye. His palm, glowing with condensed Spiritual Power, struck Chu Erniu’s wrist with precise force, sending the sword clattering away.

But Chu Erniu was beyond reason. Unarmed, he frantically formed a hand seal, chanting a hasty incantation. A ball of fire roared to life and whooshed through the air, aiming straight for Wang Ba’s head.

“I said, stop!”

Senior Brother Shi’s expression darkened. He flicked his long sleeve, and a black shadow shot out from the fabric like a bolt of lightning—faster than the fire, faster than the eye could follow.

The shadow intercepted the fireball in mid-air. With a wet snap, it opened its jaws and swallowed the flames whole.

The changes in that split second were so rapid that Wang Ba was left dumbfounded. Even Chu Erniu froze, his madness momentarily checked by shock.

The black shadow landed lightly on the pavement. It was a weasel, but one with the predatory, flattened face of a leopard. Its fur was pitch black, and after swallowing the fireball, it opened its mouth to let a wisp of green smoke drift lazily from its fangs.

Its bead-like black eyes darted between Chu Erniu and Wang Ba, radiating a danger far more palpable than Alpha-Seven ever had.

Wang Ba instantly recalled Tao Yi’s gossip: Senior Brother Shi had personally nurtured a High Grade spirit beast. This leopard-faced weasel was undoubtedly it.

The beast’s presence seemed to douse Chu Erniu’s hysteria. Facing Senior Brother Shi’s thunderous expression, the young disciple finally showed a trace of fear.

“Why did you try to kill him?” Shi demanded, his voice trembling with suppressed rage.

Lin Yu, who had rushed out with her makeup only half-applied, stood by the door. She eyed the smoke-breathing weasel with trepidation before looking at the two men in confusion.

“I… I…” Chu Erniu swallowed hard, sweat beading on his forehead. “I was just playing with him. Fooling around. Just a joke…”

“A joke?”

Senior Brother Shi pointed a shaking finger at the severed shovel handle lying in the muck. “You call that fooling around? If he hadn’t dodged, you would have cut him in half! You call murder a joke?!”

“Speak! Why did you attack him?!”

Shi’s fury was not born of benevolence. If Wang Ba—this incredibly efficient tool—was killed, who would do the work? The Sect was short-handed. If Shi had to shovel manure himself, where would he find the time to cultivate? His lifespan was ticking away!

“I… I…”

Wang Ba, rubbing his bruised back, watched carefully. He was just as baffled. He had done everything to avoid offending this man.

Chu Erniu remained stubborn, mumbling about an accident.

Finally, Shi’s patience snapped. His eyes turned cold. “Fine. Fine! I thought that since we share the same misfortune of being stuck in this manor, I would be lenient. But you are obstinate and unyielding. Since you refuse to speak, I will send you to the Punishment Hall. Let them pry your mouth open!”

At the mention of the Punishment Hall, the blood drained from Chu Erniu’s face.

“No! Not the Punishment Hall!”

“You have no choice!”

Shi raised his hand, and a binding rope flew from his sleeve, snake-like, ready to constrict the offender.

Chu Erniu collapsed. Tears and snot streamed down his face as he wailed, “No! Don’t! I’ll talk! I’ll talk!”

He looked up, his face a mask of ugly, distorted resentment.

“I just can’t stand it! Why do you get to stay here while I have to go to the front lines to die? And him!” He pointed a shaking finger at Wang Ba. “Even this filth—this Laborer Disciple—gets to stay safe! Why?! Why?!”

“So I wanted to kill him! If he dies, no one will do the work for you! I wanted to vent my anger! If I’m going to die, I’ll make sure none of you live comfortably either!”

He gnashed his teeth, oscillating between murderous rage and pathetic sobbing. There was not a shred of the transcendent grace a cultivator was supposed to possess.

Senior Brother Shi and Lin Yu looked at each other, stunned into silence by the sheer pettiness of it.

Wang Ba, however, felt a chill settle in his bones.

Just to inconvenience them?

Because Chu Erniu was unhappy, he decided to snuff out Wang Ba’s life like a candle? Just to make Shi shovel his own chicken shit?

It was absurd. It was infuriating.

If not for the Physique Strengthening Scripture, if not for his Yin Spirit, if not for Shi’s intervention… Wang Ba would be a corpse right now.

His grip on the jade pendant tightened inside his robe. It still contained a single streak of Sword Qi from Zhao Feng. It would have been enough to kill Chu Erniu instantly. Probably only the weasel could have survived it.

Wang Ba took a deep breath, forcing his muscles to relax. He remained silent. He was just a servant. He had no voice here.

Senior Brother Shi clearly didn’t want the hassle of a formal investigation.

“Forget it,” Shi said with a wave of dismissal. “You ship out in a few days anyway. The Punishment Hall is a waste of time. But remember this…”

Shi’s voice dropped an octave. “If you touch him again, I will kill you myself.”

As if to punctuate the threat, the leopard-faced weasel bared its needle-like teeth at Chu Erniu and spat a small burst of flame before leaping back into Shi’s sleeve.

“Yes! Yes! Thank you, Senior Brother!” Chu Erniu kowtowed, weeping with relief.

Senior Brother Shi glanced at Wang Ba. He offered no apology, no comfort. He simply turned and walked back into his house, indifferent as a stone.

Lin Yu gave Wang Ba a look of fleeting pity, shaking her head before hurrying back to finish her makeup. She had her own problems; compassion was a luxury she couldn’t afford.

Wang Ba was left standing in the yard, ignored by everyone. A piece of furniture that had almost been broken.

When the others were gone, Chu Erniu wiped his face. Seeing Wang Ba staring at him, his fear instantly converted back into arrogance.

“What are you looking at?” he spat. “You think anyone cares about you?”

“If you weren’t useful to Senior Brother Shi, you could die in a ditch and no one would look twice! You lowly laborer… get the hell out of my sight!”

Looking at this man—this bully who was frightened of the strong but ruthless to the weak—Wang Ba felt a cold rage crystallize in his chest. He clenched his fist and took a step forward, his expression icy.

“You… what are you doing?”

Chu Erniu saw the look in Wang Ba’s eyes—a look of dead calm—and felt an inexplicable jolt of fear. He instinctively stepped back.

But in the next second, the ice on Wang Ba’s face shattered, replaced by a fawning, terrified smile. He hunched his shoulders and bowed deeply.

“Immortal Master… this lowly one was wrong!”

The sudden switch left Chu Erniu blinking in confusion.

Recovering his wits, Chu Erniu let out a breath, his ego re-inflating. He felt humiliated by his momentary fear and barked, “If you know you’re wrong, then get lost!”

“Yes, yes, of course!”

Wang Ba nodded like a pecking chicken, retreating backward. Then, as if struck by a thought, he stopped. He fished around in his robe and pulled out a small cloth bundle. Bowing low, he trotted up to Chu Erniu with an ingratiating grin.

“Immortal Master, this lowly one truly offended you earlier. Please, accept this as a token of my sincere apology. A small tribute to calm your anger.”

As he spoke, Wang Ba reached out. His left hand moved with lightning speed, grabbing Chu Erniu’s hand in a firm handshake, while his right hand pressed the bundle into the disciple’s palm.

Chu Erniu was about to slap the hand away when he felt the contents of the bundle. Hard, granular… spiritual energy.

He pulled the drawstring open.

Spirit Stones.

“Twenty Spirit Stones!” Chu Erniu gasped. “You? A laborer? You’re this rich?”

Greed instantly washed away his anger. He stuffed the stones into his robe, his eyes gleaming as he looked at Wang Ba, already calculating how much more he could squeeze out of this servant.

In his excitement, he barely noticed the strange sensation that had washed over him when their hands touched—a cold, hollow feeling, as if something vital had been quietly siphoned away.

But the feeling passed, drowned out by the joy of sudden wealth.

Wang Ba maintained his humble bow, his eyes hidden, his expression unreadable. The transaction was complete. The price had been paid.

Just then, a voice echoed from outside the manor gates, a voice Wang Ba recognized all too well.

“Zhao Feng of the Punishment Hall. Here to collect the Spirit Poultry.”