Henry Clark was stunned. It took him quite a while to confirm that this book had actually entered his mind.

He stood there in a daze for a long time, only snapping out of it when his stomach started growling loudly again.

“What the heck? Such a big book stuffed into my head—won’t it squeeze my brain flat?”

Muttering to himself, he rubbed his stomach and walked outside.

By now, night had fallen. Outside the door, David Parker and the others were drinking and eating meat, all the while nervously watching the wooden cabin.

They were afraid Henry Clark would go crazy and suddenly burst out of the cabin to attack someone, so they deliberately kept their distance.

“Did he really eat all three stalks of the Essence-transforming Grass?”

David Parker took a sip of liquor and lowered his voice to ask.

He had already asked three times, still finding it hard to believe.

“He sure did. Just like a cow eating grass—chewed them up and swallowed them all…”

Little Freckles answered in terror, glancing toward the cabin as if afraid Henry Clark would come charging out.

“Oh man, not to mention three stalks—even one is more than a person can handle. I’m telling you, this guy must be into that sort of thing, right? He ate so much at once, he’ll definitely need to vent later. Hanged Ghost, you’re up…”

David Parker looked at Hanged Ghost, still shaken.

Hanged Ghost was the palest-faced among the group of young Daoists. Hearing David Parker’s words, he was so scared that the half-chewed piece of pork head meat fell from his mouth. With a miserable face, he said, “I can’t do it, I’m afraid of pain… How about… how about letting Little Freckles do it…”

“No way!”

Little Freckles jumped up in fright. “You’re the pale one—everyone says you’re the pretty boy, so you’re definitely the rabbit lord this time…”

“What rabbit lord?”

Suddenly, a hoarse voice rang out. The five young Daoists all shuddered in fright and jumped back together.

At some point, Henry Clark had walked over. In the firelight, his face looked extremely pale, but his spirits seemed good. He came to the fire, asked the question casually, and without waiting for an answer, sat down cross-legged, grabbed a big chunk of pork head meat, and started gnawing on it. His white teeth tore off a huge piece, and he ate with oil all over his mouth, as if he were starving.

In fact, at this moment, Henry Clark really was starving.

His body was severely depleted, and no matter how much he ate, it never felt enough.

After wolfing down all the meat and taking two swigs of liquor to moisten his throat, Henry Clark finally stopped, rubbing his stomach. He still didn’t feel full, but his belly was just too bloated.

“I have an announcement for you all. From now on, bring me three stalks… oh, no, one stalk is enough. From now on, bring me one stalk of Essence-transforming Grass every day. I don’t care where you find it, but you can’t miss a day. Whoever brings it to me first doesn’t have to work that day… And, we need to improve our living standards. This little bit of pork head meat isn’t enough. From now on, double it—no, triple it!”

Hearing Henry Clark’s words, the young Daoists were all stunned, not understanding what he was up to.

After a while, David Parker finally stammered, “That… that’s five pounds of pork head meat… and you want to triple it?”

“That’s right!” Henry Clark nodded. “Let’s start with that. If it’s not enough, we’ll add more!”

“But we don’t have enough money…” David Parker said miserably.

“Then go sell your butts…”

Henry Clark said nonchalantly, “You were all fighting to be the rabbit lord just now anyway!”

Chapter 5: I’m Talking About You

Within the ten thousand acres of spiritual fields under the Qingyun Mountain Daoist sect, a famous glutton had appeared.

For the past two months, Henry Clark ate more than ten pounds of meat every day—not counting rice, fruits, and all kinds of wine, and he’d occasionally buy some tonic herbs to nourish his body. In this environment, David Parker and the other five young Daoists followed Henry Clark, sharing in the bounty. Each of them had rosy cheeks and plump bodies, even their bellies bulged, and their chins had two or three layers.

But Henry Clark hadn’t gotten fat—in fact, he’d gotten even thinner.

Now his body looked extremely frail, like a sheet of paper, as if a gust of wind could blow him over.

Yet his eyes had become very bright, his spirits were excellent, and every movement was full of strength.

“This Qingyun Fortune Scripture really is extraordinary. I’ve only cultivated for two months and already changed so much. No wonder all nine of my uncles claimed to be top experts in the martial world, yet were wiped out by a single eagle and a single sword…”

In the woods beside the medicinal fields, Henry Clark sat in front of a bonfire, staring blankly at a wild rabbit roasting over the flames.

After two months of feasting, the silver he’d squeezed from the other Daoist boys was long gone. What to do when you’re broke?

He couldn’t really make these guys go sell their butts, and with his looks, probably no one would buy anyway.

With no other choice, Henry Clark often took the Daoist boys hunting in the nearby mountains. The forests around Qingyun Mountain were full of wild animals, and the sect didn’t forbid the boys from hunting—as long as you had the skill, you could catch something to improve your meals.

Fortunately, after cultivating a strand of spiritual energy, he found his hearing and sight had become sharp, his reflexes quick, and even his grip much stronger.

He usually kept a handful of small stones in his pocket. Whenever a wild rabbit or pheasant took flight, he’d throw a stone and never miss within thirty paces.