Who Let Him Cultivate？

Chapter 27: A Breakthrough in the Hundred Fragrances Pavilion

The imperial family and the Meng clan shared a deeply intertwined history, bound by generations of political marriages.

The Meng family was a relentless forge of prodigies. Whenever the world dared to whisper that their foundation had finally crumbled—that their descendants lacked the spine to uphold the family name—a peerless genius would inevitably tear through the heavens, shoulder the clan’s destiny, and forge the next chapter of their immortal legend.

Thus, rumors whispered that the Meng family had anchored their very destiny to the national fortune of the Great Xia Dynasty. As long as the Great Xia Dynasty stood, the Meng family would never fall.

“It’s not *that* exaggerated,” Meng Jingzhou laughed heartily, waving a hand in a pathetic display of modesty. “Though, I truly didn’t expect you to guess that *I* am that heaven-defying genius.”

“…No, we never thought you were a genius,” Lu Yang replied, his voice a flatline of absolute truth. If a clown like Meng Jingzhou was meant to shoulder the Meng family’s destiny, their immortal legend was scheduled to end by Tuesday.

If they were discussing true, heaven-ordained prodigies, then he, Lu Yang—the future pillar of the Dao Seeking Sect—was clearly the more deserving candidate.

The two boys immediately spiraled into a vortex of self-aggrandizement and mutual slander, completely forgetting the presence of Tao Yaoye. Sitting quietly beside them, her Feathered Immortal Body made her a far greater genius than either the Sword Spirit Root or the tragic, romance-repelling Single Spirit Root.

Fortunately, their bickering was cut short. A majestic, primordial aura erupted from the lower floors, slamming into the Hundred Fragrances Pavilion like a physical tidal wave.

Had the pavilion’s structural integrity been anything less than fortress-grade, the sheer spiritual pressure would have leveled the entire city block!

Lu Yang and his two companions felt as though a warhammer had caved in their skulls. Their minds flatlined into white noise. An invisible, colossal hand seized their internal organs, twisting them into a suffocating knot.

The surrounding patrons, boasting Golden Core stage cultivation, fared slightly better than Lu Yang’s trio—but only slightly.

“Is this… someone breaking through to the Nascent Soul stage?!” A Nascent Soul stage Senior Sister, entirely unaffected by the crushing weight, gasped softly. She tasted the ambient energy, her eyes widening. “This aura… it carries the wildness of the primordial era.”

The culinary masterpieces of the Hundred Fragrances Pavilion were far more than mere delicacies. It was commonplace for a single dish to forcefully elevate one’s cultivation or drive a cultivation technique through several extra cycles. If paired with molecular precision, the ingredients would undergo alchemical resonance, multiplying their effects exponentially.

“I had long heard the legends that a single meal here could shatter a major realm bottleneck. I thought it was mere myth, but to witness it with my own eyes!”

“I simply wonder which blessed Junior Brother or Junior Sister stumbled upon such a heaven-defying Fated Chance.”

When ordinary cultivators approached a breakthrough, they sealed themselves in Secluded Cultivation, surrounded by Dharma Protectors and absolute silence. The Hundred Fragrances Pavilion was a chaotic nexus of noise and mortal desires—the absolute worst environment for a spiritual epiphany.

To shatter a bottleneck in this cacophony was a terrifying testament to the sheer, unadulterated power of the pavilion’s food!

The waiter casually pressed a hand downward. The suffocating Nascent Soul Pressure vanished like blown smoke. The patrons gasped for air, their lungs burning, before staring at the humble server in absolute shock.

To their spiritual senses, the waiter was merely at the Golden Core stage. Yet, that effortless suppression of a Nascent Soul aura betrayed a terrifying, hidden depth.

Someone whispered frantically to their companion, “Now that I think about it… I heard an Elder mention that when the Hundred Fragrances Pavilion first opened a thousand years ago, this man was the waiter. A millennium has passed, and he is *still* the waiter. His face hasn’t aged a single day.”

While it was standard for cultivators to halt their aging, remaining entirely unchanged as a lowly server for a thousand years was a statistical anomaly of the highest order.

The waiter acted as though he hadn’t heard a word. He offered a practiced, apologetic bow. “My deepest apologies, esteemed guests. It seems a patron grew overly excited during their breakthrough and forgot to restrain their aura. Please forgive the disturbance.”

A Senior Brother who had recently formed his Golden Core closed his eyes, savoring the lingering spiritual residue. His eyes snapped open, blazing with revelation. “This aura bleeds with a feral, untamed power! It is as if the ancient dragon clan has descended upon us! It must be a peerless body-cultivating Senior Brother breaking through. Quickly, we must comprehend this lingering aura! It could forge our physiques anew!”

“Indeed! This is a heaven-sent Fated Chance! We must seize it!” his companions agreed fervently.

Moving in perfect synchronization, the five cultivators dropped into lotus positions, their palms facing the heavens. They levitated an inch off the floorboards, eyes shut in solemn reverence. A cool, pristine energy surged toward them from all directions, washing over their meridians.

Even those who did not walk the path of body cultivation treated their physical vessels with utmost gravity. If one possessed boundless Magic Power but a fragile mortal shell, a single ambush could spell instant death. And if a martial artist closed the distance? They would be slaughtered before they could even weave an evasion spell.

Thus, the Dao Seeking Sect enforced brutal standards for physical fitness.

Among the Demon Beasts, the ancient dragon clan was legendary for their apocalyptic weather manipulation and their indestructible flesh. They were the apex predators of the Demon Domain. To glean even a fraction of their primordial aura was a blessing. To accidentally comprehend a fragment of a draconic divine ability? That was a Fated Chance worth killing for!

The sight of five Golden Core cultivators ignoring a table of steaming, priceless delicacies to meditate in the middle of a restaurant was a spectacle rarely seen.

Lu Yang watched them with profound respect. Their predatory instinct for seizing Fated Chances was truly admirable.

“Should we also take this opportunity to seek enlightenment?” Tao Yaoye suggested softly.

Lu Yang looked at her in surprise. “You can actually sense the ancient dragon aura the Senior Brothers are talking about?”

“It costs nothing to try.”

Just as Lu Yang’s trio debated whether to join the impromptu enlightenment session and tap into the feral majesty of the ancient dragons, a frantic, thunderous *thud-thud-thud* echoed from the stairwell.

A massive wild boar with a green-tinted face and razor-sharp tusks burst onto the floor. Its eyes were bloodshot, swirling with absolute terror and unbridled fury. The sheer malice rolling off the beast triggered a primal alarm in everyone’s souls.

What a ferocious, terrifying demon! Its cultivation level eclipsed almost everyone in the room!

Furthermore, the boar’s spiritual fluctuations were violently unstable—the unmistakable hallmark of a fresh breakthrough!

The waiter frowned. A miniature vortex of annihilating energy materialized in his palm. But just as he debated whether to intervene, a blinding arc of blade light shattered the air. The freezing, merciless Killing Intent descended like a waterfall of silk, carrying a paradoxically incandescent heat. With a single, flawless strike, the boar was decapitated. Its massive head hit the floorboards with a wet thud and rolled… and rolled… coming to a gentle stop right at Lu Yang’s feet.

The severed pig head stared up at Lu Yang, its dead eyes wide with unresolved grievance.

What should have been a gruesome bloodbath yielded not a single drop of gore. The extreme, searing heat of the blade energy had instantly cauterized the stump. The rich, mouth-watering aroma of perfectly roasted pork wafted through the dining hall.

Only then did the master of the blade step into the light. He was an aggressively ordinary-looking chef, sporting a tall white toque and a heavily stained butcher’s apron. He gripped a massive meat cleaver in one hand. His face was a landscape of brutal scars and thick muscle, and his apologetic smile looked exactly like a bandit preparing to execute a hostage.

“My bad, my bad! Didn’t mean to startle the guests,” the chef boomed. “I was just prepping to slaughter this dragon-descendant wild boar. I suppose my Killing Intent leaked a bit too much, shoving the beast into a life-and-death crisis. It managed to seize the Fated Chance of impending doom, awakened its dormant sliver of ancient dragon blood, and broke through to the Nascent Soul stage right on the chopping block.”

“A minor operational error on our part! Won’t happen again. I beg your understanding!”

The chef stood there, dripping with lethal intent, gripping a bloody cleaver, and flashing a homicidal grin. His tone, however, was incredibly sincere. The patrons decided, with unanimous and immediate clarity, that they were extremely understanding people.

The chef casually scooped up the pig head from Lu Yang’s feet, grabbed the massive carcass by a hind leg, and dragged it back down the stairs. Only then did the suffocating pressure finally lift.

The five Golden Core Senior Brothers remained suspended in the air, frozen in an agonizing tableau of embarrassment. To continue meditating on the ‘ancient dragon aura’ of a terrified kitchen pig was a humiliation too deep for words. To stop meditating was to admit they had just worshipped a piece of bacon.

Suddenly, one of them slammed his palm onto the table, shattering the silence. “Damn it! Bring us a pot of peasant pork stew! And use that exact pig!”

The market price for Nascent Soul stage pork was astronomically absurd, to say nothing of a beast boasting an ancient dragon bloodline. The bill for this single pot of stew would be so devastating they would wake up in cold sweats and slap themselves for years to come.

But even if it meant bankrupting themselves, they had to eat it. They were committing to the bit. If they didn’t consume this Nascent Soul pig today, their Dao Hearts would forever be stained by the trauma. The sheer, pent-up mortification would literally cause internal bleeding.

The waiter smoothly slung his towel over his shoulder, a flawless, professional smile returning to his ageless face. He pitched his voice to a cheerful shout. “Right away! One premium peasant pork stew for the five esteemed guests!”