The market was a river of noise and motion, bustling with cultivators.

Wang Ba scanned the rendezvous point again. Still no sign of Ye Lingyu.

He couldn’t afford to loiter any longer. He had secured the Spirit Root Talisman and the cultivation manuals; his personal goals were met, and his satisfaction was immense. Now, the priority was to help Ye Lingyu acquire her High Grade Spirit Poultry and return to the safety of the manor before his luck ran out.

Clutching his precious purchases tight against his chest, he set off, earnestly searching for the Myriad Treasures Pavilion.

He didn’t find the Pavilion. Instead, he stumbled upon a storefront bearing the sign: Hundred Beasts Garden.

He paused, debating for a moment, then stepped inside. Perhaps they sold High Grade Spirit Poultry here.

Truth be told, after raising chickens for a year, he had never actually laid eyes on a High Grade specimen. Professional curiosity got the better of him.

From the street, the Hundred Beasts Garden looked modest. But the moment Wang Ba crossed the threshold, he realized the interior was a different world entirely—a vast space expanded by spatial formations.

Guarding the entrance were two majestic lion-beasts, one on either side.

They sat upon stone plinths, motionless and imposing, radiating a terrifying aura that mimicked the stone guardians found in mortal palaces.

As Wang Ba entered, the lions swiveled their massive heads. They swept a lazy, dismissive glance over his gray Laborer Disciple robes, then turned away with a snort of obvious disdain.

Moments later, a cultivator dressed in the white robes of the Outer Sect walked in.

The two lions instantly transformed. They shook their manes, leaped from their pedestals, and rolled over, exposing their bellies with tongues lolling out. They even stood on their hind legs, front paws clasped together in a comical, human-like bow.

“I always thought only dogs judged people by their status,” Wang Ba muttered to himself, a cynical smile tugging at his lips. “Turns out, lions are just as snobbish.”

He shook his head, chalking it up as another eye-opening experience in the cultivation world, and walked into the main hall.

The hall was lined with cages, housing Spirit Beasts of every shape and size. Some prowled, some slept, others let out low, resonant growls.

Next to each cage hung a wooden plaque detailing the beast’s information.

Wang Ba had come for chickens, but the array of exotic creatures fascinated him. He found himself wandering from cage to cage, eyes wide.

There was a Three-Tailed Long-Armed Ape, each of its tails possessing the destructive power of a Low Grade magic sword.

There was a Shimmering Fox with double pupils, capable of launching soul attacks.

There was a White-Singing Chicken—a poultry breed capable of suppressing evil spirits.

There was a Fierce Black Soft-Shelled Turtle, its shell covered in razor-sharp spikes, radiating aggression.

These beasts were either blessed with unique innate talents or possessed high cultivation ranks and terrifying combat potential.

Naturally, their prices were equally terrifying.

A casual glance revealed nothing cheaper than a hundred Spirit Stones. Anything reaching High Grade quality started at two or three hundred.

For a high-level Qi Refining cultivator, however, a well-tamed beast was a force multiplier worth the investment. Two or three hundred stones was a heavy price, but not an impossible one.

Wang Ba stopped in front of a particular cage, his feet glued to the floor.

Unlike the other enclosures that held pairs or trios, this cage housed a solitary occupant.

It was the size of a millstone, pitch black, and encased in a shell that looked like forged iron armor. Just looking at it gave one a sense of unshakeable security.

[Shield-Armored Giant-Headed Turtle] Potential: First Rank Middle Grade (Adult). Traits: Zero offensive capability. Extreme defense. Extremely difficult for ordinary cultivators below Qi Refining Level 7 to damage. [Price: 400 Spirit Stones]

Wang Ba’s heart raced.

This beast was the perfect match for his divine ability, Substitute Death!

The Substitute Death ability transferred fatal damage from Wang Ba to his bonded beast. With this turtle’s absurd defense, an attack that would obliterate Wang Ba might barely scratch the turtle’s shell.

It would transform Substitute Death from a costly, one-time escape that required burning Lifespan to rebind, into a sustainable, overpowered divine skill. As long as the turtle didn’t die, he wouldn’t die.

The only downside was that this specific turtle appeared to be a juvenile, so its defense wasn’t at its peak yet.

But the real deal-breaker was the price.

400 Spirit Stones. He couldn’t afford a single limb of this thing.

“Why is a Middle Grade Spirit Beast so expensive?” Wang Ba muttered, feeling a mix of desire and confusion.

Then, his eyes drifted to the small print at the bottom of the plaque.

[Note: Long-term consumption can enlarge specific male body parts. possess effects of strengthening the foundation, cultivating vitality, and invigorating essence…]

Wang Ba stared at the text. Realization dawned on him.

“No wonder there’s only one left.”

He felt a pang of heartache. A majestic defensive beast, a potential lifesaver… and people were buying it to turn into soup for male enhancement? And judging by the price, demand was outstripping supply.

“Cultivators…” Wang Ba shook his head in disbelief. “They pursue the Dao, yet they’re still obsessed with such base, vulgar desires?”

Then again, the wealthy patrons of this shop were likely powerful figures. And remembering the Heaven and Earth Yin Yang Union Great Bliss Rhapsody he had seen in the bookstore earlier… well, perhaps it wasn’t so surprising after all.

With a heavy sigh of regret, Wang Ba bid a reluctant farewell to the Shield-Armored Giant-Headed Turtle.

Moments later, he found the poultry section.

Or rather, the “Edible Spirit Beast” zone.

The cages here were filled with Spirit Pigs, Spirit Poultry, and other livestock bred for the table.

Not far away, the owner of the Hundred Beasts Garden was holding a Spirit Chicken, wings twisted behind its back, haggling with a bald cultivator.

Wang Ba’s eyes lit up. The bird in the owner’s hand was significantly larger than Alpha-Seven, and its spiritual fluctuations were far more potent.

It was definitely a High Grade Spirit Poultry.

Wang Ba scanned the nearby cages. Sure enough, he spotted several roosters and hens that dwarfed his own flock.

The plaque confirmed it: [High Grade Spirit Poultry: Female 230, Male 150 Low Grade Spirit Stones.]

The price surprised him. Given the skyrocketing inflation of Low Grade poultry, he had expected females to hit at least 300 stones.

But the logic quickly clicked.

Low Grade poultry was the staple of the masses. The Rare Fowl plague had forced everyone who couldn’t afford premium meat to fight over the scraps, driving the price of Low Grade birds through the roof due to supply shortages.

High Grade poultry was a luxury good. The target audience was small and wealthy. If you couldn’t afford the cheap stuff, you certainly weren’t buying the expensive stuff. Thus, the price remained relatively stable.

Market economics aside, this was good news. He just needed to tell Ye Lingyu.

As he prepared to leave, the bald cultivator walked away empty-handed.

The owner, looking annoyed, grabbed a pouch at his waist. He channeled a bit of Spiritual Power, and the unsold chicken vanished into the bag.

Wang Ba’s eyes locked onto the pouch.

A Spirit Beast Bag!

He wanted one. Badly.

He hadn’t seen anyone selling them in the stalls, and he had no idea where else to look.

He hesitated, swallowed his nervousness, and stepped forward.

“Esteemed Immortal… might I ask if that Spirit Beast Bag is for sale?”

“Spirit Beast Bag?”

The owner frowned, his gaze landing on Wang Ba. He had noticed the Laborer Disciple enter earlier but had dismissed him as irrelevant.

Hearing the question, he looked impatient. But business was business.

“I don’t have many in stock,” the owner said dismissively. “If you want one, prepare at least seven or eight hundred Spirit Stones.”

It was a lie. Spirit Beast Bags weren’t that expensive; they were just rare. He threw out an inflated number to scare the laborer off without explicitly refusing a sale—a habit of caution to avoid offending whatever master the laborer served.

Wang Ba’s face fell. He couldn’t hide his disappointment.

“I see… Thank you, Esteemed Immortal.”

Seven or eight hundred stones. If he sold his entire flock at Ding Eighty-Seven Manor, he could afford it. But with only the North Pine Market left in the outer area, dumping that much stock would attract fatal attention.

With only forty-odd stones in his pocket, he was miles away from the asking price.

Seeing Wang Ba’s dejection, the owner’s eyes narrowed in calculation.

“However,” the owner added, his tone shifting, “if your master comes to purchase Spirit Beasts from me… as long as the total exceeds ten Middle Grade Spirit Stones, I could include a Spirit Beast Bag as a gift.”

“Mind you, it’s a practice piece made by an apprentice refiner. The internal space is a bit cramped.”

The owner raised an eyebrow. “What do you say?”

Wang Ba hesitated.

He didn’t know if Ye Lingyu would buy from here, or if she’d spend that much—ten Middle Grade stones was a fortune, equivalent to a thousand Low Grade stones.

But missing out on a Spirit Beast Bag would be a tragedy. It was an essential tool for his plans.

He nodded slowly. “I can only try.”

He briefly considered asking if he could swap the bag for the Shield-Armored Giant-Headed Turtle, but realized the turtle was massive. Carrying a giant turtle around without a bag to put it in would be ridiculous and conspicuous. He abandoned the thought.

The owner shrugged, not expecting much. Another customer walked in, and he waved Wang Ba away to attend to them.

Wang Ba hurried out of the Hundred Beasts Garden.

On his way out, the two stone lions gave him one last look of utter contempt.