The manor was thick with the scent of bitter medicine.

Every member of the Lu Clan lay prostrate on the floor, trembling violently, not daring to twitch a muscle.

Since the previous night, when strange disturbances echoed from the sect’s borders, their manor had been completely surrounded by a group of cultivators.

What followed was a night that shattered the worldview of every Lu clan member.

The Eastern Sage Sect—lofty, invincible, eternal as the heavens—was gone.

A new power, the Heavenly Gate Sect, had seized control of the region.

Faced with such a cataclysmic shift, the mortal members of the Lu Clan were lost, paralyzed by fear and confusion. The cultivators outside watched them like hawks, their gazes cold and predatory, yet strangely, they did not attack.

The suspension of the blade only made the terror worse.

“If Second Uncle were still here…” a clansman whispered, voice shaking, “maybe we could have followed the Sect Leader and escaped…”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the terrified crowd, only to be sharply cut off by a harsh shout.

“Shut up! All of you!”

In the main hall, Seventh Uncle Lu Yuanfeng sat rigid in a rattan chair. He was withered and thin, his body resembling a piece of dried deadwood. His knuckles were white as he gripped the armrests, forcing himself to stay upright. He had not closed his eyes all night.

His eyes were bulging, webbed with blood vessels, fixed unwaveringly on the main gate.

He had been staring at that door since the nightmare began.

The sky brightened. Yang energy rose with the sun, casting beams of light through the windows to illuminate the dancing dust motes.

Creak.

The heavy gates of the manor groaned open.

A black-robed cultivator stepped across the threshold, entering Lu Yuanfeng’s field of vision.

Lu Yuanfeng’s body seized up, shuddering uncontrollably as he locked eyes with the intruder. The other clan members, overcome with terror, buried their heads into the floorboards, not daring to look.

The black-robed figure’s face was obscured by shadow. He lowered his head slightly, sweeping his gaze over the prostrate mortals, before finally fixing his attention on the withered old man in the center of the hall.

There was no movement, no blur of speed—the black-robed cultivator simply vanished and reappeared instantly in front of Lu Yuanfeng.

“Second Brother…” Lu Yuansheng’s voice was low, devoid of emotion. “Fourth Brother and Fifth Brother are dead.”

Lu Yuanfeng pressed a trembling hand against the table, struggling to maintain his posture. As he looked at the figure looming over him, the terror suddenly drained away, replaced by a strange, hollow calm.

The black-robed cultivator trembled. A long silence stretched between them before he spoke, his voice dry and rasping.

“You… knew I wasn’t dead?”

“I didn’t.”

Lu Yuanfeng smiled weakly, a gesture that triggered a violent coughing fit. He hacked as if trying to expel his own lungs. Finally, he steadied his breath and let out a long sigh.

“But… cough… I understand you.”

“Your fate has always been the hardest, and your mind the most adaptable. Among us brothers, you were the one with the most promise. You aren’t so easy to kill.”

The black-robed cultivator fell silent again. When he spoke, his tone was heavy. “Back then… Zhao Feng begged the Sect to let you all leave. Why didn’t you go?”

“Zhao Feng… he is a good man,” Lu Yuanfeng murmured, his eyes losing focus. “In that cold sect, it was rare to find someone with human warmth.”

“And there was a youngster named Wang Ba. A Laborer Disciple… but when we were at our lowest, he gave us two Spirit Poultry. He raises chickens at Village Ding-87… Second Brother, you must not forget that kindness.”

The black-robed cultivator said nothing, only giving a curt nod.

Lu Yuanfeng sighed, looking up at his brother with weary eyes. “If… cough… if we had left, would the Sect have believed you were truly dead?”

“You didn’t tell us you were alive. Wasn’t that part of your plan, too?”

The black-robed cultivator opened his mouth to defend himself, but looking into the knowing eyes of his brother, the words died in his throat.

Lu Yuanfeng smiled, a tragic, accepting expression.

“No need to explain, Second Brother.”

“The Lu family… is only the Lu family because of you.”

“Without you, we are nothing.”

“If sacrificing the entire Lu family allows you to take one step further on your path… then it is worth it.”

Lu Yuanfeng’s voice gained a sudden, desperate intensity. “But you must promise me. You must leave descendants. Perhaps in the future, our Lu family can become a true Immortal Clan, passed down through generations!”

The black-robed cultivator stood motionless for a long time. Then, slowly, he shook his head.

“That is no longer possible.”

Under Lu Yuanfeng’s confused gaze, he reached up and slowly undid the clasp of his black robe. The fabric slid down, pooling on the floor.

There was no flesh beneath the robe.

There was only a skeleton of blood-red bone, glistening and grotesque.

“The demonic path is a shortcut… how could it come without a price?”

The shadows obscuring his face dissipated, revealing a skull stripped of all skin and humanity. Hollow sockets stared back at the old man.

Lu Yuanfeng looked at the skeletal face of his brother and fell into a long, final silence.

…

Clang.

The old bamboo door gently closed.

Behind the door, there was absolute silence. Not a breath, not a heartbeat.

Lu Yuansheng turned his back on the manor and looked into the distance, feeling the cold wind against his bones. The world felt vast, the horizon endless.

From this day forth, he had no more weaknesses.

In just half a day, the South Lake Market had been rebuilt.

It was a testament to the efficiency of the conquerors. Unlike the old market, the Heavenly Gate Sect had forcibly diverted a First-Grade Spiritual Vein to the location, constructing rows of cultivation chambers for Qi Refining cultivators.

Of course, the price of admission was exorbitant. Only those willing to bleed Spirit Stones could enjoy the dense spiritual energy inside.

The market was lined with shops exclusively run by the Heavenly Gate Sect. They sold everything: Magical Artifacts, Talismans, Pills, and sect specialties like ‘Bone Source’ and ‘Human Puppets.’

Naturally, using these dark items required purchasing the corresponding cultivation methods—another massive expense.

Wang Ba followed Yu Changchun through the bustling streets. He quickly noticed that the prices in these monopoly shops were significantly higher than what he was used to at the Wind Sun Market. Some items were marked up by double or more.

They could just rob you directly, yet they insist on giving you some goods in return… truly damn conscientious of them, Wang Ba muttered internally, his cynicism peaking.

He began to understand the logic behind the “Outer Sect Left-Path Cultivator” status.

Why strip a captive for raw materials once, when you can force them to work, take risks, and funnel their earnings back into the sect for overpriced goods? As long as the Heavenly Gate leadership wasn’t brain-dead, they would keep this exploitation scheme running forever.

They stopped at a shop selling spirit beasts. Wang Ba’s eyes sharpened—he spotted several Spirit Poultry in the cages. He recognized the markings immediately; these were chickens he had raised himself.

However, they were old, nearing the end of their natural Lifespan.

Yu Changchun glanced at them with greedy eyes but didn’t open his wallet. He wasn’t stupid. Why spend a fortune now when he had Wang Ba? Eight hundred birds were practically in his pocket, and he’d get a steady supply for free every month.

The shopkeeper, seeing Yu Changchun’s red-and-black robes, rushed over to serve tea, terrified of neglecting a sect member.

Yu Changchun didn’t stand on ceremony. “Junior Brother, I need about six hundred Rare Fowl. One male for every nine females. Can you scrape them together for me?”

“Six hundred Rare Fowl?” The shopkeeper’s face fell, looking troubled.

“Senior Brother, you must know… before the invasion, the ‘Profound Poison Path’ disciples poisoned most of the Eastern Sage Sect’s stock to cause chaos.”

“They were reluctant to waste poison on Spirit Poultry, so the high-grade ones survived. But the Rare Fowl… they were decimated.”

The shopkeeper sighed. “If you wanted six hundred Spirit Poultry, I have connections. But Rare Fowl? I can only promise to do my best.”

Yu Changchun frowned. He had secretly stashed about two hundred birds earlier, assuming the rest would be easy to buy. He hadn’t anticipated a supply shortage.

“Do whatever you can to find them. I won’t treat you unfairly, Junior Brother!”

“Alright! In that case, Senior Brother, regarding the deposit…” The shopkeeper rubbed his hands together.

“Fine. How much?” Yu Changchun waved his hand magnanimously.

“Four hundred Low Grade Spirit Stones.”

Yu Changchun froze. His eyes bulged. “H-How much?”

His expression darkened instantly. “Six hundred Rare Fowl for four hundred stones? These are Rare Fowl, not Spirit Poultry! Junior Brother, do you take me for a fool? Are you trying to fleece me?”

“Four hundred is just the deposit, Senior Brother, not the full price.” The shopkeeper looked helpless. “I’m already giving you a discount. The birds themselves aren’t expensive, but they are extinct in this region! Within the State of Chen, only the Nine Spirits Sect and a few rogue markets have them now. I’ll have to travel to the Nine Spirits Sect to import them.”

“The travel costs, the bribes, the risk… a thousand Spirit Stones is a conservative estimate for the total.”

The shopkeeper paused. “Senior Brother, do you still want them?”

“This… this…”

Yu Changchun hesitated, sweat forming on his brow.

He remembered how he had patted his chest in front of Wang Ba, promising eight hundred birds with absolute confidence. The embarrassment burned his cheeks.

He did the mental math. Even at a thousand stones, buying the breeding stock was cheaper than buying Spirit Poultry outright for ten years.

With a pained expression, he reached into his Storage Bag. He counted the stones out one by one, laying them on the counter with agonizing slowness.

“I’ll take them!”

The shopkeeper immediately swore a Heart Demon Oath to confirm the deal and delivery date.

As they turned to leave, Wang Ba suddenly pointed at a stone pool nearby.

“Shopkeeper, are those for sale?”

Lying on the wet rocks were several turtles with bright yellow shells. They didn’t seem afraid of humans at all, looking up at Wang Ba with curious, fixed ‘smile’ expressions.

Wang Ba’s mind flashed to a page in Daoist Horn-Pot’s Notes on Avian Husbandry.

Yellow-Throated Stone Turtle.

Named for the pure yellow coloration of its throat. As it ages, the yellow deepens, and its shell becomes rounder and smoother, accumulating ‘immortal energy.’ Though a mortal species, it contained trace amounts of Spiritual Qi, similar to Rare Fowl. Eating it provided nourishment even to cultivators.

The shopkeeper glanced at Yu Changchun. “Not for sale. But since you are with Senior Brother Yu… I can give you a few.”

Wang Ba immediately looked at Yu Changchun.

Yu Changchun was confused by the request but didn’t care enough to ask. He nodded his permission.

Wang Ba didn’t hesitate. He swooped in and swept every single one of the twenty-plus Yellow-Throated Stone Turtles into his possession.

The shopkeeper’s eye twitched violently.

I said I’d give you a few, not clean me out!

But the words had already been spoken, and in front of a Senior Brother, he couldn’t take them back. He watched helplessly as his tank was emptied.

Getting over twenty stone turtles for free improved Wang Ba’s mood significantly.

Yu Changchun, however, was still brooding over the massive dent in his wallet. He handed a Spirit Beast Bag to Wang Ba and barked instructions.

“Find a spot near the South Lake Market, fence it off, and start raising the chickens. I’ll handle the feed.”

He turned to leave, walked a few steps, then rushed back anxiously.

“Oh, right… keep that Spirit Beast Bag safe! Don’t lose it!”

Wang Ba nodded obediently.

Only when Yu Changchun had walked far into the distance did Wang Ba let out a long exhale. The tension drained from his shoulders.

He instinctively pressed a hand against his ribs, feeling the hard outline of the object Zhao Feng had hidden there.