"Hm? Where is Junior Brother Su?"
A sweet, gentle voice broke the silence.
Another followed.
"Eh? He isn't here today?"
Standing before the infamous chicken farm were two figures draped in loose, snow-white robes. Their clothing was modest—mortal style—but their beauty betrayed nothing mortal about them.
Hu Jiao'er and Hu i'er.
The Twin Fairies of Sword Peak, unofficial co-managers of the peak in the absence of Bai Yujian. Even when the Peak Lord was present, they often handled internal affairs with grace.
Hu Jiao'er, with curly white hair and blinking starry eyes, glanced around with practiced vigilance.
Hu i'er, her twin in all but temperant, had straight white hair, long lashes, and a gaze as pure as untouched snow.
They looked identical from behind.
Except—
The wooden fencing around the coop visibly distorted, curving unnaturally outward.
It wasn't a spiritual formation.
It was their hips.
No joke.
Su Xiaobai once described the sight as:
"Perfect vessels for sowing a hundred sons across a hundred lifetis. Nay, a spiritual rice field of wife material."
____
Since Bai Yujian's departure, the two sisters had lived in constant fear.
Without the Sword Fairy present to suppress Su Xiaobai's libido and lawlessness, the sisters had begun weekly donations—bribes, let's be honest—of 10,000 spirit stones apiece, under the na of "chicken farm support."
Their official reasoning?
"For the cultivation of poultry!"
Their real fear?
"If we don't pay tribute, this madman might drug us, dual cultivate us, and we won't even have ti to call our ancestors for help!"
____
Today, they had co once again.
But Su Xiaobai was nowhere to be seen.
The stump where he usually sat like a chicken-feeding monarch was vacant. Three hens pecked idly beside it, as if even they missed the usual chaos.
Hu i'er tilted her head.
An imaginary question mark seed to float in the air.
"Ah! There she is!"
She pointed excitedly.
Across the yard stood a majestic black rooster, chest puffed, beak lifted high like a monarch inspecting his domain.
_____
Colonel K.F.C.
Nickna: "Miss KFC."
Though gender was debated, the title was fixed.
The chicken in question had hatched from a mysterious beast egg Su Xiaobai obtained from Liu Chenfu's treasure vault.
Its full title, according to Su Xiaobai's notes:
[Colonel K.F.C. – Destroyer of the Neo-Nazien Sect, Inheritor of the Niggalaxy, Poultry Saint of Thunderfry Dao, First of Her Na, Slayer of the Deep-Fried Heavens]
Most disciples had no idea what that ant.
Hu Jiao'er and Hu i'er believed it stood for "Killer Feathered Chicken."
In truth, Su Xiaobai had whispered to his pillow once—
"It ans Karmic Fried Chicken. Because it devoured my karmic destiny and shat out a life of absurdity."
_____
"Miss KFC, where is your master today?"
Hu i'er asked sweetly, clasping her hands behind her back.
The black cock stopped mid-strut.
Turned its crimson gaze toward her.
"Cu!?"
It tilted its head.
Looked at the twins.
Then shook its head disdainfully—
And strutted away in silence.
As if to say: "Fools. Mortals. Peasants. Begone from my divine poultry grounds."
_____
Hu i'er blinked.
"…Did she just ignore ?"
Hu Jiao'er sighed.
"Even his chicken walks the Dao like him. Let's go. We'll check the outer sectors."
As they turned, a faint breeze passed through Sword Peak.
The kind of breeze that made you wonder—
Was it just wind?
Or the subtle breath of a cultivator preparing for another ridiculous incident?
In the coming days, rumors would spread that Colonel KFC once fought off a Core Formation weasel with nothing but her tail feathers.
Whether true or not, none dared to eat eggs from that coop ever again.
_____
[Silent Mist Lake]
While sects whispered, peaks panicked, and disciples trembled in fear of Cuck Hall's wrath, the man at the center of the madness—
Su Xiaobai—
Was currently doing what he did best:
Snoring.
Nestled comfortably beside the once-feared Silent Mist Lake, Su Xiaobai lay sprawled beneath the shadow of a massive spiritual tree, surrounded by what could only be described as a scene that would cause any passing monk to imdiately question their vows.
The lake, forrly known for its black, acidic water that corroded even high-grade spiritual artifacts, now shimred a tranquil crystal blue, like the tears of a righteous cultivator watching his enemy rise faster than him in cultivation... again.
How had it changed?
No one knew.
Well—Su Xiaobai didn't.
But the truth?
There had once been a Stone Demon hiding deep in the mountain beneath the lake, its miasma corrupting the waters.
And one day, when Su Xiaobai casually borrowed Bai Yujian's sword will and tested a flying slash for dramatic flair—
He cleaved it in half.
Accidentally.
____
Now the waters were pure.
Fish returned.
Spiritual herbs regrew.
And the once-barren Ashen Plains behind the lake?
Now lush with jade-green grass, blooming spiritual flora, and even towering Spirit Trees reaching for the heavens.
The locals, long used to misery, pestilence, and third-stage qi disorders, woke up one day to a fertile paradise.
Confused and overjoyed, they assud it was the work of a deity.
They called him:
"The Sleeping God of Silent Mist."
Small shrines began appearing.
Offerings were made.
A song was composed.
Su Xiaobai, anwhile?
Had no idea.
Currently, he was using two fluffy white tails as a pillow, breathing evenly, half-drooling into the fur.
Behind him, curled protectively like a regal mountain lion, lay a majestic silver lynx—once known as Huo Lingxue, once arrogant, prideful, and full of thunderous disdain.
Now?
Tad.
She even purred in her sleep.
But that wasn't all.
____
Su Xiaobai wasn't rely enjoying beast-guarded nap ti.
He was, in fact, cradling five won.
Yes.
Five.
All of them lay scattered around him like the aftermath of a spiritual storm, their clothes in varying degrees of dishevelnt, their breathing soft, their skin glowing with post-dual-cultivation spiritual radiance.
____
To an outsider?
It looked like paradise.
A sacred realm.
A snapshot of Heaven itself.
A beautiful day. Blue skies. A soft breeze. A dozen birds chirping in harmony.
A smug-faced man buried beneath five sensual beauties and one giant lynx with resting empress face.
To the uninford, it looked divine.
To the experienced cultivator?
It looked like a reality-defying harem flag built from audacity, luck, and pure karmic robbery.
And to the readers?
It was definitely not a thirst trap written by the author.
Nope.
Not at all.
Absolutely not the result of an author projecting his fantasies through a sleep-deprived, karma-breaking protagonist.
Definitely Heaven.
___
Legends would later speak of the day five sect heiresses, a Saint Beast, and a swordless lunatic turned a cursed land into a paradise—
All while sleeping through it.
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