Immortality Starts With Investment

The Golden Crows bled until the towering pot was filled, then painfully plucked their tail feathers, nearly baring their backsides. Their veiled glares at Ye Chen brimmed with humiliation and rage, but he remained unfazed.

With his demands met, Golden Crow Fire, blood, and a hundred feathers floated before him, dazzling with treasure’s glow. Onlookers marveled—Fourth Holy Son had struck it rich. His initial cost—ten years’ offerings for over a dozen Unity elders—was immense, but paled beside these spoils. Ye Chen’s legendary luck was undeniable.

He casually stored the Golden Crow Fire and turned to Feng Baiyu, Hua Yunfei, and the elders. ”Take what you need! These are rare—Golden Crows haven’t fully emerged. Hard to find, let alone kill for blood or feathers. If any elder doesn’t need these, I’ll send a heavy gift later.”

His generosity stunned the elders, erasing their lingering unease. Though they’d agreed to give him the root, his massive gains could’ve sparked envy. Sharing the spoils won their hearts. Feng Baiyu grinned, pleased, and took five feathers. ”I need a fan—thanks, Fourth Holy Son.”

With the Holy Master taking his share, the elders followed, grabbing blood or feathers. Some needed neither, and Ye Chen noted their faces for future gifts. The split left him with a third of the blood and feathers. He didn’t care—gifting them would yield thousandfold returns. A trifle.

Feng Baiyu, holding his feathers, chuckled to Hua Yunfei. ”Your Junior Brother’s already winning over the elders. He’s gunning for your Holy Master seat. Scared?”

Hua Yunfei smiled. ”With his heaven-defying luck, I’m only happy for him, not wary.”

Feng Baiyu rolled his eyes, silent.

The Golden Crows fumed as Heavenly Evolution Holy Land openly divided their spoils, picking and choosing. The Princess, pale, snapped, ”Fellow Daoist Ye, we’ve paid. Hand over the tendril!”

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Ye Chen didn’t renege. He presented the root, letting them choose. The Princess, eyes gleaming, selected the thickest tendril, slicing it with Golden Crow Fire and storing it in a treasure box. The Fusang root was theirs.

The five Golden Crows buzzed with excitement. To them, it was a new divine tree, capable of purifying their bloodline and boosting their strength. Ye Chen thought he’d fleeced them, unaware their future gains dwarfed this cost. They vowed to repay today’s humiliation—bleeding Ye Chen daily into a mountain-sized vat, refining his blood into pills, and plucking him bare. As they grasped the tendril, their minds already plotted revenge.

The Golden Crow Princess, tendril in hand, turned to leave. Ye Chen spoke, curious. ”Does the Princess have a Dao companion?”

She frowned, shaking her head. ”Of course not!”

Ye Chen’s brow furrowed. Unlike humans, he couldn’t sense a beast’s purity. If she had no companion, she might be eligible. Did the system reject non-humans? Disappointment flickered—he’d hoped for cat-eared or fox-tailed maidens.

The Princess, recalling Ye Chen’s reputation, tossed a flirtatious glance. ”My clan marries within to preserve bloodline purity, testing many before choosing the best match. But as the Heavenly Emperor’s heir, your bloodline is exceptional. If you’d be my Dao companion, come to the Northern Domain. Our elders would welcome you as the first human prince of our clan.”

Her smile was seductive, but her heart was cold. If Ye Chen came, she’d have elders capture him, using his blood to nurture the new Fusang Tree.

Ye Chen’s eyes lit up. Not the myriad races—the Princess was ineligible due to experience. His dreams of bunny-eared maidens lived on. He was relieved.

His brightened expression seemed to her like interest. She giggled, covering her mouth. ”If Holy Son wants to be our prince, come find me! The past is gone; the future is for humans and myriad races together.” With that, she and her clan transformed, soaring toward Central Continent in the Endless Sea’s depths.

Ye Chen watched, pondering the feedback multipliers of top-tier myriad race women. If the system approved and their rates were high, he’d gladly foster racial harmony. Shaking off the thought, he prepared to gift.

The Golden Crows’ desperation for the tendril raised suspicions. Though unclear on their plan, Ye Chen decided to gift the root to Lin Qingtan, triggering a full Fusang Tree to thwart their schemes.

Feng Baiyu’s voice transmitted. ”Those Golden Crows are weakened. Shall we kill them? I’ve marked them for tracking. I know a technique to help you subdue the Princess as a servant.”

Ye Chen’s mouth twitched. The Holy Master was no saint!