Wang Ba squatted before the coop, running his hands over the four transformed chickens.

No, strictly speaking, these could no longer be considered Rare Fowl.

They were Spirit Poultry.

Their feathers, once a dull, dusty grey-black, now shimmered with iridescent streaks of color that caught the sunlight. They held themselves with a haughty, spirited energy, their chests puffed out.

Physically, they were massive—half again the size of the ordinary flock.

Wang Ba hefted one in his hands. He was surprised to find its muscle density was incredible; a single Spirit Poultry weighed as much as two or three regular birds.

Their stats reflected their superior form. Their lifespans were roughly triple that of a normal Rare Fowl.

The numbers floated above their heads: [56.1], [55.7], [58.2], [59.3].

The first two were roosters, the latter two hens.

The hen named Jia-4 was the leader of the pack, her lifespan approaching a staggering 60 years.

However, Wang Ba noted a crucial detail: since yesterday, these numbers had stopped moving.

Their ravenous appetites had also plummeted. They now ate only about twice as much as a regular chicken—a intake that matched their increased body mass, but no longer signaled active mutation.

“The increase in lifespan seems to have hit a ceiling,” Wang Ba muttered.

“Or perhaps, ~60 years is simply the natural lifespan limit for a Spirit Poultry. The rapid growth before was just the bird bridging the gap during its metamorphosis.”

He picked up a piece of charcoal and began scribbling calculations on the hard-packed earth of the manor yard.

Based on the data, he formed a solid theory.

First, depositing his own lifespan into a Rare Fowl acted as a catalyst, forcing it to evolve into Spirit Poultry. Once the transformation was complete, the change was permanent. Even if he drained the lifespan back out, the bird wouldn’t devolve.

Second, the lifespan cap for these creatures was between 58 and 60 years.

If he were to drain a fully grown Spirit Poultry dry, applying the 1-to-10 loss ratio, he would net about 5 to 6 years of lifespan for himself.

The cost to trigger this evolution? A mere 0.1 years of initial investment.

“It’s a killing,” Wang Ba whispered, his eyes gleaming. “A massive profit margin.”

If he siphoned lifespan from the ordinary chickens to pay the initial cost, this became a zero-investment venture. Pure profit, created out of thin air.

But reality quickly doused his excitement. The problem was volume. The mountain estate had far too few Rare Fowl to support industrial-scale harvesting.

And then there was the Sect.

If the Sect discovered that a lowly mortal servant could casually mass-produce Spirit Poultry—a feat that baffled even their alchemists—how would they react?

Would they pat him on the head and promote him?

Or would they use their immortal arts to dissect his soul and dig out his secrets?

“Human hearts are hard to fathom,” he sighed.

He looked at the four magnificent birds, his gaze turning anxious.

“I cannot let Deacon Li see these four. Not yet.”

“At least not for a year.”

Old Man Sun had just produced a Spirit Poultry by ‘luck.’ If Wang Ba immediately offered another one right after taking over, it would scream suspicious activity.

But he couldn’t abandon his Golden Finger. Without it, he had zero hope of mastering the Physique Strengthening Scripture in this lifetime.

“Since depositing lifespan allowed them to break through once,” Wang Ba mused, stroking his chin, “can I force a second breakthrough?”

He was a man of action. He immediately reached out and touched Jia-4.

The interface flickered, showing a subtle change.

[Target Lifespan: 59.3 Years] [Current Host Remaining Lifespan: 60.3 Years] [Consumable Projects: Physique Strengthening Scripture (Layer 2), Comprehensive Aptitude, Root Bone. Conversion Cost: 18 Years.] [Extract / Deposit (Depositing Lifespan can only accelerate growth)]

Wang Ba stared at the last line.

“This path is blocked.”

He shook his head helplessly. The system was clear: putting more life in would only make the bird age faster, not evolve it into a Phoenix.

But the text regarding the Physique Strengthening Scripture and Root Bone lingered in his mind. It was a tantalizing door, but one he couldn’t open just yet.

Not all news was bad, however.

While collecting eggs later that day, he spotted a hen huddled motionless in the corner of the coop.

His heart skipped a beat.

He gently lifted the hen. There, resting in the straw, was an egg with a dull, matte shell.

A fertilized egg.

He didn’t dare move it recklessly. He quickly arranged some extra straw around it for warmth and settled the mother hen back onto her clutch.

Two days later.

Deacon Li arrived, fashionably late.

His belly protruded proudly as he waddled into the manor. He wore a mask of seriousness, one hand waving briskly in front of his nose to ward off the stench. He skirted the piles of manure with practiced ease, pointing out a few “issues” with the coop in a sharp, decisive tone to show he was doing his job.

He then tallied the tribute: two roosters, two hens, and two hundred and ten eggs.

Deacon Li paused, looking at the crate. “Huh? Wasn’t the quota 200 eggs?”

“The hens were productive this month. We had ten extra,” Wang Ba said with an apologetic smile. “I’m just borrowing these flowers to offer to the Buddha—a small token of gratitude for your guidance.”

“This… isn’t very appropriate…”

Deacon Li protested verbally, but his hands moved with lightning speed, accepting the basket of ten extra eggs without a hint of hesitation.

The stern bureaucratic mask melted away like snow in spring, replaced by a warm, benevolent beam.

Wang Ba exhaled internally. He had guessed right.

From the moment Deacon Li had manipulated Old Man Sun’s reward, Wang Ba knew the man was corrupt. If the subordinates didn’t offer a ‘surplus,’ where would the Deacon get his cut?

If Wang Ba hadn’t offered this gift, he would have likely faced a very difficult inspection next month.

With the bribe accepted, the atmosphere relaxed instantly.

“Work hard, Little Wang,” Deacon Li said, patting his ample stomach. “When vacancies open up in the upper manors of the Ding Section, if your performance remains this good, you might have a chance to compete for them.”

“Those manors produce seven or eight hundred eggs a month. The skimming potential… ah, I mean, the responsibility is much greater.”

“I will rely on the Deacon’s cultivation!” Wang Ba bowed.

“Ah, don’t say that. We all serve the Sect.” Deacon Li’s eyes then fell on a separate, smaller box. “By the way, why are these few so large?”

“Reporting to the Deacon,” Wang Ba said smoothly, “these are eggs laid by the Spirit Poultry Old Man Sun bred before he left. They weren’t collected during the last tribute, so I saved them to hand over to you today.”

“Good! Good!”

Deacon Li’s eyes lit up with genuine greed. He accepted the box with both hands, treating it like fragile porcelain.

These were treasures.

A single Spirit Poultry egg was worth dozens of regular Rare Fowl eggs. Even the Qi Refining disciples in the Outer Sect couldn’t afford to eat these daily.

Wang Ba wasn’t supposed to know their true value, but Deacon Li knew exactly what he was holding.

“You’re a sensible lad,” Deacon Li said, glowing. “If you have any trouble in the future, if it’s something I can solve, just speak up!”

The Deacon was in high spirits. Wang Ba knew the window of opportunity was open.

He cupped his hands respectfully. “Deacon, I actually do have a small favor to ask.”

“Oh?”

Deacon Li’s smile vanished instantly. His tone turned guarded and cold.

“Brother Wang, I am just a mortal deacon. My authority is limited. Don’t ask for anything I can’t deliver.”

He laid out the ugly truth upfront.

Wang Ba couldn’t help but admire the man.

Truly worthy of holding a position of power as a mortal. One second, he was intoxicated with greed; the next, he sensed potential liability and slammed the door shut.

That alertness, that decisiveness, that ability to turn on a dime—it was something Wang Ba needed to learn.

Wang Ba kept his smile fixed. “I wouldn’t dare make things difficult for the Deacon. I simply wish to improve my skills. Does the Sect have any manuals or books on poultry farming that I could borrow to study?”

“Books on raising chickens?”

Deacon Li’s brow unfurrowed. The smile returned.

“That’s not difficult. The Outer Sect’s Scripture Hall has plenty of miscellaneous books like that.”

“Hmm, tell you what. Next time I come, I’ll bring a few for you.”

He paused, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. “However, borrowing books… even for me, requires a bit of… effort.”

“I understand!”

Wang Ba cursed inwardly but maintained his deferential grin. With a pained heart, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his entire savings—the meager earnings from shoveling tons of chicken manure.

He presented the coins to Deacon Li with both hands.

It was his entire fortune.

But it was a necessary expense.

He had to establish a cover story as a “Chicken Raising Expert.” It was the only way to eventually explain why his coop was full of Spirit Poultry without getting dissected.

And the path to becoming an expert started with reading books.

The cost was simply… starvation.

For the rest of the month, he had no money for food.