“This technique… it doesn’t cultivate a single drop of Immortal Qi!”

Wang Ba stared at the golden page, his brow furrowed.

Even with his limited knowledge, he knew that the foundation of any cultivator was ‘Qi’—the energy born after stepping into the Qi Refining realm. It was the fuel for flying swords, fireballs, and every other profound spell in the stories.

Yet, this Yin Spirit Great Dream Scripture had absolutely nothing to do with standard Qi.

According to the text, it cultivated something called ‘Yin Spirit Power.’

Its effects were esoteric: strengthening the mind, fortifying the soul, and confusing the senses of others. The rest of the description was vague at best.

The method of cultivation, however, was painfully clear. It was eerily similar to the Physique Strengthening Scripture.

It was a grind.

Just mastering the first layer required at least a hundred years of arduous effort!

Each subsequent layer took ten times longer.

There were three layers in total. To reach the peak, one would need ten thousand years.

“It’s a death trap,” Wang Ba muttered, shaking his head. “A suicide manual for anyone without an infinite lifespan.”

Even if one had the comprehension of a genius, without the years to back it up, this scripture was useless.

He carefully folded the golden paper and tucked it away. He had no idea where a mortal like Old Man Sun had acquired such a bizarre and demanding manual, but the cost of entry was far too high.

He wasn’t interested. Not yet.

He hadn’t even finished the first layer of the Physique Strengthening Scripture. He had no time to waste on obscure mental arts.

“Focus,” he told himself. “Raising these Rare Fowl is the only way I master the body cultivation. Everything else is a distraction.”

Wang Ba got to work. He moved with the efficiency of a man whose life depended on it, scraping up the chicken droppings from the coop floor and refilling the water troughs.

The feed troughs were mostly empty—licked clean. No need to top them up today.

As he worked, he performed his daily inventory. Hens, roosters, chicks.

Then, the eggs.

Perhaps due to the spiritual energy in the hens’ diet, the eggs didn’t spoil easily. The shells were rock-hard, making storage simple.

“Old Man Sun said fertilized eggs have duller shells,” Wang Ba muttered, holding an egg up to the light. “And they feel heavier, with a sense of movement inside when shaken.”

He checked them one by one.

The numbers were worrying. He only had about 120 eggs saved up.

There were less than ten days left in the month. The quota was 200. Given the current laying rate, he was going to come up short.

To make matters worse, all three eggs laid today were unfertilized—smooth, shiny shells. Useless for breeding.

He wasn’t entirely surprised. Both the manual and Old Man Sun had warned him: Rare Fowl were notoriously difficult to breed. The roosters were lethargic, showing almost zero interest in the hens. Mating was rare.

Even with aphrodisiacs, the success rate was abysmal. And if an egg did hatch, the chicks were fragile, often dying for no apparent reason.

Wang Ba, however, had his theories.

In his previous life on Earth, poultry farming was a precise science. He wasn’t a farmer, but he knew the basics. Chick mortality usually came down to three things: weak genetics in the egg, disease, or temperature fluctuations.

Those problems he could solve with engineering and care.

But the libido issue? That was the bottleneck.

“Playing pimp for a rooster…” Wang Ba sighed, looking at a lazy male bird dozing in the corner. “That’s a headache for another day.”

For now, he had a more pressing experiment to run.

He spent the better part of an hour observing the flock, his eyes darting back and forth until he selected his subjects.

With a handful of feed as bait and a quick lunging grab, he secured four chickens.

Two males, two females.

They were young adults—fully grown but not yet sexually mature. All were in peak physical condition, with lifespans hovering around 19.5 years.

He named them efficiently: Jia-1, Jia-2, Jia-3, and Jia-4.

Holding Jia-1, he summoned the interface.

He decided to test a graduated investment strategy.

Jia-1: 0.1 years deposited.

Jia-2: 0.2 years deposited.

Jia-3: 0.3 years deposited.

Jia-4: 0.4 years deposited.

With the 1-to-5 exchange ratio, the chickens received five times his investment.

0.1 became 0.5 years.

0.2 became 1.0 years.

0.3 became 1.5 years.

0.4 became 2.0 years.

Their lifespans jumped to 20, 20.5, 21, and 21.5 years respectively.

He marked their legs with a strip of cloth and released them back into the flock.

Wang Ba felt a wave of dizziness wash over him. He had lost another full year of his own life in total. He felt his joints stiffen slightly, a phantom weight settling on his shoulders.

But his eyes burned with determination.

That evening, he cooked a simple porridge, pairing it with the salty pickled vegetables Old Man Sun had left behind. It tasted like hope.

The next morning.

At the first crow of the rooster, Wang Ba sprang from his bed.

He rushed to the coop and hunted down the four marked chickens.

He scanned them with his ability. His heart leaped.

Their lifespans had changed.

Jia-1: 20.7 years (+0.7)

Jia-2: 21.3 years (+0.8)

Jia-3: 21.7 years (+0.7)

Jia-4: 22.1 years (+0.6)

“They actually grew…” Wang Ba whispered, his hands trembling slightly. “It wasn’t a fluke.”

“It’s just as I guessed. Depositing lifespan triggers a fundamental metamorphosis.”

The logic held up. The first large hen—the one that became a Spirit Poultry—had seen its lifespan skyrocket from 20 to nearly 60 years after he dumped lifespan into it.

If a Spirit Poultry was considered an ‘Immortal Bird,’ a 60-year lifespan made sense.

If this trend continued… his ‘Golden Finger’ wasn’t just a trade mechanism. It was an evolution catalyst.

“Steady,” he told himself. “Don’t celebrate yet. Observe.”

He scanned the coop. The troughs were bone dry. The leftover feed from last night had been devoured completely.

“It must have been these four,” he mused.

The previous hen had done the same. The sudden infusion of lifespan seemed to trigger a massive metabolic demand for spiritual energy.

Just then, the rattle of wheels announced the arrival of the supply cart.

A donkey cart pulled up, delivering fresh sacks of high-quality feed: a mixture of spirit grain bran, Spirit Bean Cake, crushed Spirit Stones, and ground spirit fish bone.

Wang Ba got to work. He mixed the fermented mash with the new ingredients.

When he fed the flock, he played favorites. He tossed a generous handful of ‘Discarded Spirit Worms’—writhing, energy-rich bugs usually deemed too toxic for humans—directly to the four marked chickens.

They attacked the worms with a ferocity that startled him.

Another day of grueling labor passed.

By evening, Wang Ba checked the troughs. Empty again.

“They’re eating enough for three times their weight,” he noted. “The transformation into Spirit Poultry is underway.”

He decided not to give them any more extra snacks. Gluttony could kill just as easily as starvation. Balance was key.

Day 2.

Wang Ba isolated the four subjects again.

The change was undeniable.

Jia-1 through Jia-4 had grown visibly larger overnight. Their feathers possessed a sleek, oily sheen that caught the light, and their eyes held a sharp, spirited intelligence that was absent in the dull gaze of the other birds.

They stood head and shoulders above the rabble, like cranes towering over a flock of mundane ducks.

But the real surprise came from Jia-4.

The hen, which had received the largest investment of two years, had laid an egg.

“Not bad,” Wang Ba grinned. “If this keeps up, hitting the 200-egg quota might actually be possible.”

But eggs were a bonus. The main event was the data.

He checked their lifespans again.

Jia-1: 24.0 years (+3.3)

Jia-2: 25.7 years (+4.4)

Jia-3: 25.6 years (+3.9)

Jia-4: 26.3 years (+4.2)

In a single day, their lifespans had exploded by roughly four years each.

“Is the growth related to the quality of food intake?” Wang Ba stroked his chin, his mind racing. “The Spirit Worms provided a massive burst of energy, which the mutation converted into lifespan…”

He needed more data.

Time marched on. Wang Ba continued his routine, watching, recording, and analyzing.

By the eighth day, however, something changed.

Wang Ba scanned the chickens, his brow furrowing.

“Hmm? The lifespan stopped increasing?”