Who Let Him Cultivate？

Chapter 60: Constables and Thieves

“My Lu Family Mimicry Fist is vast and profound. It is simply not something a Single Spirit Root like you can fully comprehend.”

Lu Yang stood with his hands clasped behind his back, projecting the weary patience of an ancient sage. “As the old saying goes, the heavens have nine layers of height, and the earth has nine layers of depth. Naturally, the Lu Family Mimicry Fist is also divided into nine distinct realms.”

He paused, letting the weight of his fabricated lore settle in the air. “Right now, I have merely scratched the surface of the first realm. Once I cultivate to a higher stage, I can perfectly replicate the strength, techniques, and even the cultivation base of my target. In the future, should I reach the Ninth Heaven, I could become a Tribulation Transcendence mighty figure with a single thought. Suppressing Eldest Senior Sister wouldn’t even make me break a sweat!”

Lu Yang spoke with such smug, unshakeable conviction that Man Gu actually bought it. The towering scholar leaned down and quietly whispered to Meng Jingzhou, “Is what Brother Lu said true?”

Meng Jingzhou rolled his eyes so hard it was a miracle he didn’t strain a muscle. “True my ass. It’s obviously made up on the spot. If you’re willing to listen, I can spin you eight different versions right now.”

Man Gu let out a soft “oh,” genuinely marveling at how effortlessly Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou could weave such elaborate webs of absolute nonsense.

Several days had passed since Lu Yang bestowed this profound new meaning upon his Mimicry Fist. Unfortunately for him, the restaurant’s foot traffic was increasing exponentially. The air was perpetually thick with the intoxicating scent of sizzling fat, cumin, and chili powder. Some customers, caught up in the euphoric high of a perfect meal, had even started tipping in Spirit Stones.

“Didn’t we raise the prices?” Lu Yang hissed through gritted teeth, aggressively wiping down a table. “Why are there still so many people?” Just yesterday, the largest restaurant in Yanjiang County had sent an envoy offering to buy their secret recipe.

He was the only one suffering. Meng Jingzhou and Man Gu were having the time of their lives.

Today, it was Man Gu’s turn to sit upstairs and keep a watchful eye on their captive, Qin Yuanhao, leaving Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou to work the floor as waiters.

Barely suppressing the urge to break into a theatrical victory speech, Meng Jingzhou transmitted his voice directly into Lu Yang’s mind. “I heard that a few days ago, a table of cultivators ate here and couldn’t stop raving about it. They claimed our food was leagues better than anything cooked by the spirit chefs they knew.”

“Word of mouth is a terrifying thing, Lu Yang. It spread from one to ten, and ten to a hundred. Now, half the local cultivation scene knows about our little establishment.”

While the Dao Seeking Sect had spirit chefs practically falling out of the trees, they were actually an incredibly niche profession in the outside world. In all of Yanjiang County, you could count them on one hand. Most were stuck at the Qi Refining stage, with only a single chef having reached Foundation Establishment.

True spirit chefs focused on the mutual generation of the Five Elements, meticulously crafting meals that were both delicious and capable of directly enhancing one’s cultivation.

Man Gu’s skewers absolutely did not enhance cultivation. But what they lacked in spiritual nourishment, they made up for in sheer, unadulterated flavor. The local cultivators had quickly reached a consensus: if they couldn’t afford a spirit chef to boost their cultivation, they could at least treat themselves to skewers that tasted infinitely better.

Even with a tenfold markup, the cultivators considered the barbecue a premium culinary experience at a bargain price.

“We’ve successfully penetrated the middle and upper-class demographics of Yanjiang County,” Meng Jingzhou continued telepathically, sounding like a seasoned merchant. “Even wealthy mortals are flocking here just to follow the trend. Eating at our stall has become a status symbol—a bragging right. At this rate, our franchise model will sweep the continent. Aren’t you thrilled?”

“I’m thrilled to death,” Lu Yang deadpanned, rolling his eyes as he turned to welcome the next wave of patrons.

“Boss, the first floor is completely packed. Can’t we sit on the second floor?” a customer pleaded, pointing toward the lit windows above.

“The second floor is currently under renovation and closed to the public. I ask for your understanding,” Lu Yang replied smoothly. Even though he actively despised the idea of growing this business, his innate work ethic refused to let him slack off as a waiter.

Defeated, the customers obediently shuffled to the back of the line wrapping around the block.

“Haha! It’s finally our turn! Boss, I brought the boys again!”

A squad of men in black plainclothes pushed through the entrance. Heavy boots thudded against the floorboards, and the unmistakable clink of long swords echoed from their waists. They wore official tokens, radiating an intimidating, blood-soaked aura that immediately parted the crowd. The civilians in line instinctively shrank back, gripped by a natural psychological fear.

“Constable Wei. Welcome back,” Lu Yang smiled, greeting them like old friends.

These were the elite constables of Yanjiang County. The leader, a burly man with a thick, bristling beard named Wei, spoke with the booming authority of a thunderclap. Known in the underworld as the Iron-Faced Constable, he boasted a solid Foundation Establishment cultivation. Street thugs fled at his shadow, and even demonic cultists went out of their way to avoid his jurisdiction, terrified of the relentless trouble he brought.

The men flanking him were no slouches either, with the weakest among them sitting at the sixth layer of Qi Refining. In a xianxia world, you didn’t survive as a lawman without the martial strength to back up the badge.

This was Constable Wei’s fourth visit. Through sheer repetition, Lu Yang had grown quite familiar with the man. Initially, a few arrogant cultivators had tried to cut the line, relying on their status. But the moment they realized the Iron-Faced Constable was a regular here for his late-night snacks, they quietly tucked their tails between their legs.

“Just finished our shift and swapped out. Figured I’d bring the brothers down for some skewers,” Constable Wei said, smacking his lips as his eyes locked onto the grill. “I gotta hand it to you, kid. Your meat has a soul to it. Once you get a taste, you can’t get it out of your head.”

“Public service is a grueling path. Pulling night duty every other day takes its toll,” Lu Yang said sympathetically, grabbing a menu and leading the heavily armed squad toward a private room in the back.

Once inside, Constable Wei and his men unbuckled their sword belts and shrugged off their heavy outer coats with collective sighs of exhaustion.

“It’s been a massive headache lately,” Wei grumbled, rubbing his temples. “I don’t know what rock got turned over, but a flood of out-of-town cultivators has poured into Yanjiang County. And let me tell you, they aren’t the righteous sort. The pressure on public security is through the roof.”

“The county magistrate has issued three separate decrees demanding absolute order. My hands are tied. I’ve had to double the patrol routes and run the boys ragged. The least I can do is treat them to a good meal afterward.”

Noticing Lu Yang was busy, Wei didn’t drag out the small talk and moved straight to the order.

“The usual spread?” Lu Yang asked, poising his brush. Wei had ordered the exact same mountain of meat on his last three visits.

“Nah, let’s spice things up today. I wanted to try the exotic menu last time, but these cowards talked me out of it.” Wei slammed a hand on the table, a wicked glint in his eye. “Bring us ten skewers of roasted eyes, ten skewers of silkworm pupae, and ten whole centipedes. Extra spicy.”

He barked the order rapidly, waving Lu Yang off before his subordinates could mount a defense.

A chorus of anguished groans erupted around the table. None of those items sounded remotely fit for human consumption.

“Look at you lot! Soft and pampered!” Wei barked, though he was grinning. “Just wait until I drag you out into the wilderness for a half-month survival mission with zero Inedia Pills! We’ll see how picky you are when you’re starving!”

When the premium wine and sizzling skewers finally arrived, the constables dug in with ravenous intensity. The bizarre ingredients were surprisingly delectable, and soon, the room was filled with the sounds of tearing meat and clinking cups.

As the alcohol flowed, the men began to vent, their voices rising in frustrated curses.

“Motherfucker. That crew of thieves hitting the wealthy estates lately is slippery as an eel. They haven’t left a single damn footprint at the crime scenes.”

“It has to be cultivators. Even a mortal master thief couldn’t scrub a scene that clean.”

“I’d bet my sword it’s that batch of out-of-towners.”

“When I get my hands on those bastards, I’m going to whip them raw—eighty lashes minimum—before I toss them in the water dungeon to rot!”

The string of flawless burglaries was a massive blow to Constable Wei’s pride. He downed a cup of wine, his face flushed with irritation. “The magistrate gave me a hard deadline. One month to crack the case. If he’s so omnipotent, why doesn’t he come down here and catch them himself?! Today, those little rats hit both the Li and Lü estates. Old Man Li is the magistrate’s brother-in-law. You can bet your ass I’m getting hauled into the office tomorrow for another screaming match.”

***

Meanwhile, in the private room directly next door.

A rugged man, clearly the ringleader, dumped a heavy sack onto the center of the dining table. Gold, jewels, and jade artifacts spilled out, glittering under the lamplight. “Today was a massive haul, boys. Same rules as always: I take forty percent, and the rest is split evenly among you.”

The room erupted in cheers. It was a bumper crop.

“Before we came to this county, I heard all these terrifying rumors about this Constable Wei,” one of the thieves laughed, tossing a jade ring into the air and catching it. “The Iron-Faced Constable! The terror of the underworld! Now that we’re here? He’s a joke. The man couldn’t even catch a whiff of our farts!”

“Hey now, that’s too harsh,” another thief snickered, pouring a massive bowl of wine. “Give the man some credit. He can definitely smell the farts. He just doesn’t know where they’re coming from!”

“The Li and Lü families were loaded, but that guy surnamed Ma was the real prize. Trash cultivation, but a vault full of top-tier goods.”

“Alright, alright, enough shop talk!” the boss roared, raising his bowl. “Tonight, we feast! Eat until you burst, drink until you drop! It’s my treat. And listen up—no using Qi to burn off the alcohol! Tonight, we get blackout drunk like real men!”

The thieves drank with reckless abandon, the room quickly descending into a chaotic mess of slurred singing and spilled wine.

Eventually, nature called. One of the thieves stumbled out of the room to find the latrine. When he returned, his vision was swimming. He pushed open a door, completely failing to notice he had walked into the room next door.

He blinked owlishly at the men sitting around the table. “Huh? Boss… why did you guys change your clothes? And damn, you all got way uglier.”

Constable Wei paused mid-bite of a roasted centipede.

“Where did this drunk lunatic come from? Get lost!” one of the constables snapped, his patience already worn thin by the stress of the unsolved case. The last thing they needed was a town drunk interrupting their meal.

The thief, his liquid courage flaring, took offense. He snarled and lunged forward to throw a punch.

It went about as well as expected. He was facing a room full of highly trained, heavily armed law enforcement. In three swift, brutal motions, the thief was disarmed, spun around, and physically hurled out into the hallway, landing on his face with a heavy thud.

The constables noted the brief flare of Qi from the man—he was a cultivator—but they didn’t care enough to investigate. They simply slammed the door and went back to their drinks and their grievances.

Humiliated and nursing a bruised nose, the thief staggered back to his actual room, wailing about the injustice.

The rest of the thieves were already thoroughly intoxicated. Hearing that one of their own had been assaulted by a bunch of ugly strangers next door, their collective temper flared.

The boss, overflowing with drunken, misplaced brotherhood, slammed his hand onto the table, shattering a plate. He stood up, swaying slightly, his face twisted in arrogant fury.

“The audacity! Daring to lay hands on my men?!” he bellowed, pointing a trembling finger at the wall. “You go back out there and tell the bastards next door—if they have a shred of guts, they can come face me right now! Whoever doesn’t step through that door is a spineless grandson!”