Who Let Him Cultivate？

Chapter 61: Such Proactive Merits Are Rarely Seen

“Who dares lay a hand on my sworn brother?!” The bandit leader’s voice thundered with the righteous fury of a seasoned warlord. He commanded his subordinate to summon the offending party. If his underling had suffered a grievance and he, the undisputed boss, failed to reclaim their honor, how could he ever command respect in the treacherous martial world?

Bolstered by his leader’s towering presence, the lowly bandit’s spine snapped straight. He marched to the adjacent private room, unleashing a devastating kick that shattered the wooden doors.

“My boss says your transgressions will not be forgiven!” he bellowed with unbridled arrogance. “He demands an audience! Whoever cowers from this summons is nothing but a spineless cur!”

Inside, the constables froze. In their decades of blood-soaked law enforcement, they had never encountered a soul suicidal enough to actively breach their perimeter and provoke them.

Constable Wei merely shook his head, a cold, amused smile tugging at his lips. As a veteran of countless brutal campaigns, he had witnessed every flavor of human folly. This was merely a flock of blind sheep wandering into a wolf den. Such trivial, self-delivering bounties were a rare but inevitable blessing in a lifelong career of hunting men.

“They want blood? Let’s give it to them. Move out!”

In the hallway, the bandits cracked their knuckles, their battle intent surging. They were fresh arrivals in this territory. Before officially joining the ranks of the Immortal Cult, mere thievery wouldn’t forge a fearsome reputation. It was time for a baptism of violence—a dazzling debut!

Then, the dust settled. The bandits found themselves staring down a phalanx of grim-faced constables. Cold steel gleamed as official sabers were drawn from their scabbards, and heavy brass waist-tokens—the undeniable sigils of imperial authority—clinked against their armored belts.

The constables, in turn, paused. Their hardened gazes swept over the bandits’ table, which groaned under a mountain of glittering gold, polished silver, luminous pearls, rare medicinal herbs, and the unmistakable, thrumming glow of Spirit Stones and spirit crystals.

A heavy silence descended. Why did this hoard look so intimately familiar? Hadn’t a frantic merchant just filed a report detailing the exact theft of these specific treasures not an hour ago?

The constables: “…”

Constable Wei: “…”

The bandits: “…”

“If I said we harvested this from the roadside… would you believe me?” the bandit leader choked out.

Even Constable Wei’s vast reservoir of experience failed him. This was a historical first: a criminal syndicate executing a flawless, unprompted surrender.

The oblivious underling, entirely blind to the lethal shift in atmosphere, continued to howl for blood. “Boss! Annihilate them! Show them the wrath of our brotherhood!”

He pointed a trembling, accusatory finger at the heavily armed officers. “Do you see my eldest brother’s receding hairline?! For every soul he reaps, he plucks a single strand of hair! The martial world trembles at the name ‘Ghost’s Dread’!”

“And gaze upon the eyepatch of my second brother! That eye was sacrificed in a cataclysmic duel against a late-stage Foundation Establishment overlord! But that overlord paid the ultimate price—both his eyes were gouged out in return! He is the ‘Desperate Second Brother’!”

“Behold my third brother’s crippled leg! Shattered when he was besieged by a hundred elite imperial guards within the deepest sanctums of the royal palace! He traded that limb for his freedom! They call him ‘Flying Over Grass’!”

The bandit boss, the second brother, and the third brother moved with synchronized, desperate precision. Three boots lashed out simultaneously, launching the loudmouthed underling across the room. If only you could shut your damn mouth.

“I believe I heard someone mention… that whoever didn’t answer your summons was a spineless cur?” Constable Wei’s lips peeled back in a feral, predatory grin. So, you’re the bastards who forced me into three consecutive night shifts.

“I’m the cur! I’m the spineless cur!” the bandit boss shrieked, his heroic aura shattering into absolute terror.

All thoughts of a dazzling debut evaporated. With the main exit sealed by a wall of imperial steel, the bandits channeled their spiritual qi, violently detonating the plaster wall and stampeding into the restaurant’s main dining hall in a chaotic, dust-choked frenzy.

This syndicate was built on evasion and velocity; their frontal combat prowess was laughably pathetic. Not a single one had breached the Foundation Establishment realm. Even their fearsome leader was merely stranded at the ninth layer of Qi Refining.

“Half of you breach the front gates! The rest, follow me through the rear courtyard!” the boss roared, executing a textbook tactical dispersal.

From his vantage point, Lu Yang observed the unfolding chaos. His mind rapidly processed the tactical variables, arriving at a deeply cynical, albeit amusing, conclusion.

Thieves and constables, separated by a mere partition of wood and paper, and the thieves initiated the breach?

Wait. They’re routing through the rear courtyard. A chilling realization struck him. If the constables breach the perimeter, what happens if they discover the Changui?

The logistical cascade of this disaster was unacceptable. If the Changui was exorcised by the authorities, who would man the grill? The entire supply chain of the barbecue enterprise would collapse. Without the restaurant as a front, how could they maintain their surveillance network on Qin Yuanhao?

The bandit boss, sprinting toward the rear exit, spotted Lu Yang standing frozen in the doorway. Assuming the civilian was paralyzed by the sheer killing intent radiating from his escape, the boss lunged, extending a hand infused with qi to violently hurl the obstacle aside.

Lu Yang happened to be holding a steaming ceramic basin of dough drop soup. As the bandit boss bore down on him like a rampaging beast, Lu Yang executed a perfectly calculated “flinch.” His hands trembled, and a torrential wave of scalding soup cascaded toward the bandit leader.

Caught off guard by this unconventional assault, the bandit boss instinctively erected a shimmering barrier of spiritual qi, deflecting the viscous deluge.

That momentary delay was all Constable Wei required. With a flick of his wrist, a length of enchanted iron chain, serpentine and alive with intent, lashed out, coiling around the bandit leader with unbreakable force.

“Go! Round up the rest! This meal just paid for itself,” Constable Wei commanded, his earlier gloom evaporating into pure, unadulterated satisfaction. The world seemed brighter, the air cleaner.

After weeks of fruitless pursuit, the elusive bandit ring was finally in custody. What a stroke of profound fortune.

Constable Wei clapped Lu Yang on the shoulder, his laughter booming. “If you hadn’t been standing right there, this slippery bastard would have slipped through our fingers!”

“A true act of civic valor! Wait for it—tomorrow, I’m delivering a commendation banner to this establishment!”

Lu Yang waved his hands in frantic refusal, but Constable Wei, riding high on triumph, was immovable. A banner would be delivered.

The violent scuffle had left the restaurant in shambles. A wall was demolished, and the main hall was choked with plaster dust and debris.

Patrons, forced to cut their meals short, filed out. Yet, none seemed disappointed. Witnessing a live arrest was a spectacle money couldn’t buy.

“This ‘Come Again Barbecue’ is a charmed place! The constables catch criminals without even leaving their seats!”

“Worth every coin. You couldn’t buy a show this good.”

“This must be a locus of concentrated fortune. For a business to explode in popularity so quickly, even if the food is divine, it’s unnatural. There has to be profound karmic luck at play.”

“Today proved it. The constables making an arrest right here is all the evidence we need.”

“I’m coming back often. Maybe some of that luck will rub off on me.”

“Sound reasoning. Let’s return together next time.”

Listening to the fading chatter, Lu Yang felt a wave of profound pessimism for the restaurant’s future—it was doomed, destined for inevitable, overwhelming success.

“I’ll bring the money for the wall repairs when I deliver the banner tomorrow!” Constable Wei called over his shoulder, waving a final time before marching his procession of unlucky bandits back to the constabulary.

Lu Yang stood in the doorway and sighed. Suddenly, he noticed Qin Yuanhao leaving his residence once more.

“Brother Lu, Qin Yuanhao has left his compound again,” Man Gu’s voice transmitted from the second floor. He was a model of focus, utterly indifferent to the chaos below, his attention laser-locked on their target’s movements.

“I see him. You and Jingzhou handle the wall repairs. I’ll tail Qin Yuanhao.”

“Understood.”

Lu Yang activated his Shrinking Earth technique and slipped into the shadows, once again following Qin Yuanhao.

Meng Jingzhou watched him go, sighing with admiration. “Lu Yang’s talent for techniques is truly monstrous. I studied with him for half a day and didn’t grasp a single thing.”

“And I have this nagging feeling the mnemonic chant he taught me is related to spatial techniques. Is that just my imagination?”

Meng Jingzhou didn’t dwell on it. Lu Yang’s aptitude for techniques could only be described as “absurd.” Expecting to learn anything by following him was a fool’s dream.

If he, a proud possessor of a Single Spirit Root, couldn’t manage it, then it was impossible for anyone else.

…

Lu Yang, already far away, didn’t hear Meng Jingzhou’s musings. He noticed that this time, Qin Yuanhao walked with a confident, almost swaggering stride, even humming a cheerful tune, as if embarking on a momentous endeavor.

Qin Yuanhao arrived at a large, imposing estate. He didn’t knock. Instead, he directed a pulse of spiritual energy—a specific technique—at the main gate.

Shortly after, a tall, gaunt man emerged. “Is it time?” he asked without preamble.

“Today’s the day.”

“I’ve been preparing for this for a full half-month.”

“Who hasn’t? We need to make this operation count. I’ve been itching for action, going stir-crazy with inactivity! Once we pull this off, you have to spread the word far and wide. Let’s see who dares look down on me after this!” At this, Qin Yuanhao’s lips twisted into a cruel, anticipatory smile.

“Absolutely, absolutely,” the gaunt man agreed. He was famously loose-lipped, a notorious gossip within the Yanjiang Branch.

The two men exchanged words laden with obscure meaning, their laughter cold and humorless.

Lu Yang grew alert, though he couldn’t decipher their intentions.

The pair made their way to a bustling commercial district. One building stood out, garishly decorated and ablaze with multicolored lights.

Qin Yuanhao and the gaunt man entered, greeted with effusive hospitality.

Lu Yang looked up, his eyes tracing the characters on the ornate signboard above the entrance: Brothel.