Who Let Him Cultivate？

Chapter 35: The Female Demon

Kirin Immortality Herb.

The name sent a jolt straight down Lu Yang’s spine. Kirins were creatures of myth, long extinct, and the herb bearing their name was just as impossibly rare. History held barely a handful of records regarding it. Some scholars even argued that only a single Kirin Immortality Herb existed in the entire world, trapped in an endless cycle of reincarnation.

An ancient sage once proposed a radical theory: true Kirins never existed at all. Every recorded sighting of the mythical beast was merely an unawakened mortal stumbling across the Kirin Immortality Herb. Without the Heavenly Eye, it was all too easy to mistake the divine flora for a living, breathing monster.

Just as Lu Yang had done moments ago.

“Uncle Ba sent me to loosen the soil,” Lu Yang explained.

“Oh? So you’re the new tiller! Do you know any Five Elements techniques?” The miniature Medicine Kings perked up, their tiny faces lighting up with joy. Finally, some manual labor had arrived.

Lu Yang’s expression twisted into a knot of weary conflict. “I wouldn’t call myself an expert. I picked up a trick by accident. I’m not entirely sure if it classifies as a Five Elements technique, but… I do know how to burrow.”

Internally, he was fairly certain he was using a spatial technique, but since it manifested exactly like standard earth manipulation, he wasn’t about to argue semantics.

“Who cares about the classification? As long as you can dig, you’re hired,” the End-of-Ages Flower declared with a casual wave of its leaf.

Ever since the royal earthworm couple went on their romantic sabbatical, the Medicine Kings had been subjected to the endless whining of the lesser herbs. The soil is too hard! My roots are cramping! It’s so stuffy down here, I want to pull my roots out and bask in the sun! It had been a massive headache for the garden’s elite.

Now, the problem was solved.

The outside world knew almost nothing of the Medicine Kings. Until today, Lu Yang wouldn’t have recognized a single one. Yet, these tiny beings possessed heaven-defying medicinal properties. If even one were to appear beyond these wards, it would spark a bloodbath among the highest echelons of Cultivation.

Well, there was one he recognized.

Lu Yang stared at the sunflower clutched in the End-of-Ages Flower’s grasp. The flower’s petals opened and closed rhythmically. A black shell was spat out, and the white, jade-like kernel was devoured as nourishment.

It was eating sunflower seeds.

A pile of discarded shells already littered the ground around its roots. Lu Yang watched, a single bead of sweat rolling down his brow. Does this count as cannibalism?

“Oh, this is called a sunflower,” the End-of-Ages Flower noted, catching Lu Yang’s deadpan stare.

I know what a sunflower is, Lu Yang thought, his inner voice dripping with exhaustion.

Because the Medicine Kings were barely three inches tall, the flower wasn’t so much cracking seeds as it was bear-hugging them and gnawing through the husks. It looked incredibly satisfied.

“King End, you’re littering again!” The Kirin Immortality Herb suddenly exploded in fury. “How many times do I have to tell you? We are plants! Stop imitating humans! The shells are edible too!”

The End-of-Ages Flower didn’t even blink. “I grew this sunflower myself. I’ll eat it however I damn well please. Mind your own business! Pah.” It spat another shell directly at the Kirin.

That was the breaking point. With a furious, high-pitched roar, the Kirin Immortality Herb lunged. The two legendary, heaven-defying Medicine Kings descended into a pathetic wrestling match, rolling over each other in the dirt with absolutely zero lethal force.

The Ginseng Baby and the Three-Leaf Star Grass didn’t even glance at the brawl. They simply turned to Lu Yang and demanded he demonstrate his burrowing technique.

“Ignore them,” the Ginseng Baby squeaked. “They’ll stop when they get tired.”

Stepping past the squabbling flora and approaching the wooden hut, Lu Yang’s gaze fell upon a towering giant of a tree. Its exposed roots were as thick as tree trunks themselves, pulsing with ancient vigor, while its dense canopy rustled like a roaring ocean.

“Enlightenment Tree?” Lu Yang breathed, genuinely stunned.

Even if he were his normal height, this tree would blot out the sun. It would take dozens of men linking arms to encircle its trunk—and right now, Lu Yang was only three inches tall. It looked like a pillar holding up the heavens.

A profound Dao Rhyme flowed around the Enlightenment Tree. The rustling of its leaves didn’t just sound like wind; it sounded like the voice of the Great Dao itself, as if the myriad laws of the universe had converged to shape its branches. It was mysterious, solemn, and utterly inviolable.

“That’s the Enlightenment Tree I mentioned,” the Ginseng Baby said proudly. “We just call him Tree King. His talent in Dao techniques is absolutely peerless.”

Lu Yang shuddered at the thought. A single leaf from an Enlightenment Tree could help a cultivator achieve a breakthrough. If the tree itself gained sentience and began practicing Cultivation, how terrifying would its talent be? It was beyond imagination.

These Medicine Kings might look like frail, squabbling toddlers, but each harbored divine abilities. Without life-preserving skills, they would have been devoured by greedy humans eons ago.

The giant tree let out a booming, woody laugh. “King Ginseng, you little bastard, you’re setting me up to fail again! If I’m peerless, then what do you call the talent of that female demon?”

Female demon? Lu Yang raised an eyebrow. Judging by the venom in the Tree King’s voice, she wasn’t a welcome guest.

“Aside from Little Ba, only the female demon is allowed in the Medicine Garden,” the Ginseng Baby grumbled. “She’s terrifyingly strong. None of us can beat her. She just waltzes in, picks whatever she wants, and no ward or medicine can stop her!”

“She snapped off several of my oldest whiskers!” the Ginseng Baby shrieked, its tiny face contorting with rage at the tyrannical abuse. “It hurt so much I was bedridden for days!”

“She plucked actual stars right off my leaves!” the Three-Leaf Star Grass chimed in, trembling with indignation. “Look! See how dim these spots are? I don’t even know how many centuries it’ll take to grow them back!”

As the little Medicine Kings listed her crimes, the female demon sounded like an apocalyptic scourge. Her evil deeds were too numerous to record, and every sentient plant in the garden wanted her dead.

“And you know what the most infuriating part is?” the Ginseng Baby yelled. “She said she was taking our pieces back to use as bath salts! Can you imagine the sheer perversion? Bathing in our severed body parts!”

“Oh, right,” the Ginseng Baby added, looking at Lu Yang. “Little Ba mentioned she holds a pretty high position in your Dao Seeking Sect. Her name is Yun Zhi.”

Lu Yang: “…”

He stood frozen. A heavy silence descended upon his mind. He wasn’t even slightly surprised. Was there something fundamentally wrong with his Senior Sister, or was there something wrong with him for expecting this?

Lu Yang let out a dry, hollow laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Ah… well. That Senior Sister you mentioned… I actually know her. She’s, uh, my Senior Sister.”

The Enlightenment Tree let out another booming laugh, completely unbothered. “Think nothing of it! Who doesn’t know that every disciple in the Dao Seeking Sect calls her Senior Sister? Did you think we’d take our anger out on you just because you share a sect title? You underestimate us Medicine Kings. We’ve lived for untold epochs; why would we care about a mere human technicality?”

Lu Yang let out a massive sigh of relief. The Tree King was surprisingly reasonable. “Oh, thank the heavens. That’s great. So it won’t be an issue that she and I actually study under the exact same Master.”

The Enlightenment Tree’s laughter snapped off like a broken branch.

The gentle breeze sweeping through the garden died instantly. The leaves stopped rustling. Dead silence fell over the clearing.

The Ginseng Baby slowly raised its remaining whiskers, a terrifying, serene smile stretching across its tiny face.

The cosmic patterns on the Three-Leaf Star Grass began to swirl violently, glowing like a volcano seconds away from a catastrophic eruption.

In an instant, thick, suffocating Killing Intent flooded the air.

Lu Yang held his hands up, his mind racing at lightspeed. “Hold on! Let’s not be hasty!” he said, his voice perfectly level despite the impending doom. “Do you honestly think that just because I’m the female demon’s Junior Brother, I’m actually on her side?”

The Ginseng Baby paused, its whiskers hovering an inch from Lu Yang’s face. Its eyes narrowed with deep suspicion. “Are you not?”

The Enlightenment Tree and the Three-Leaf Star Grass held their execution strikes, waiting for his answer.

“Absolutely not!” Lu Yang declared with ironclad conviction. He clenched his fists, his face twisting into a mask of profound, haunted agony—the look of a man recalling unspeakable trauma.

“That female demon’s tyranny is an outrage against the heavens!” Lu Yang cried out, his voice trembling with perfectly acted grief. “You think you’ve suffered? You think losing a few whiskers is bad? I am a victim of her daily torment!”

He looked up at the towering tree, a weary tear practically forming in his eye. “On the surface, I look like a proud disciple with a bright future. But the horrors I endure behind closed doors… who could I possibly tell?!”