Who Let Him Cultivate？

Chapter 43: Your Mountain God Grandpa

“So, this Dao Seeking’er Sect is a big deal?” the old hunter asked, chewing on the unfamiliar syllables.

“It’s the Dao Seeking Sect, not Dao Seeking’er,” Qi Wu corrected, smoothing out the old man’s rustic pronunciation. “Tomorrow, once we reach Qinghuai County, we’ll draft a letter to the Five Great Immortal Sects and petition them to intervene.”

Qi Wu had learned the proper channels back when he first met Dai Bufan. He still marveled at the irony of it all. Petty local magistrates with barely a drop of cultivation lorded over the common folk from their high perches, yet true disciples of the immortal sects—beings supposedly detached from the mortal dust—were far more approachable.

Of course, Qi Wu was completely ignorant of Dai Bufan’s actual standing within the Dao Seeking Sect. He assumed the man was just a run-of-the-mill disciple. Had he known Dai Bufan’s true identity and cultivation base, his reaction would have been far more dramatic than a simple marvel.

The old hunter was overjoyed. He hurriedly thanked Qi Wu and the others, swearing that if they could truly rid the mountain of the tiger demon, he wouldn’t charge them a single copper for his guide services. Qi Wu quickly waved off the offer. It wasn’t that the merchants hated saving money; they just couldn’t tell if the old hunter was being genuinely generous or merely polite.

“Pardon the intrusion. I was caught in the storm while traveling. Might I take shelter here for the night?”

A graceful silhouette parted the curtain of rain. She wore a verdant dress embroidered with lotus patterns. A faint, lingering sorrow rested between her brows, evoking an involuntary urge to protect her and grant her every wish.

The merchants snapped their heads toward A Yue. You joked about a female ghost, and one actually showed up. Is your mouth cursed?

“No!” Qi Wu rejected her flat out.

They were in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by ancient, untamed woods. For a breathtakingly beautiful woman to appear out of thin air right after the old hunter’s grim campfire tales… he had every right to be paranoid.

More importantly, the woman in green was completely dry. The heavens were currently dumping oceans of water outside. How could she not have a single drop on her?

The young woman frowned, a flash of irritation crossing her delicate features. She clearly felt these men looked educated but lacked any basic manners. “You people are entirely unreasonable! This mountain god temple belongs to no one, and you are merely guests taking shelter yourselves. With the rain pouring like this, do you expect me to sustain a water-repelling technique all night?!”

“A technique? You’re a cultivator?” Qi Wu’s tone instantly shifted to cautious respect. Most cultivators treated mortals with a gentle indifference, but if one truly angered them, there was no telling what they might do. He hesitated.

The old hunter, however, stepped in, his tone firm but tactful. Relying on his years of survival in the wild, he was certain this woman was bad news. “Esteemed Cultivator, you are a woman of high standing. Sharing a ruined temple with eight rough men wouldn’t do your reputation any favors if word got out. How about this? Just a short walk north up the mountain path, there’s a temporary wooden cabin we hunters built. For a master like yourself, it’s barely a few steps away.”

The old hunter wasn’t lying; there really was a cabin up there. It just couldn’t accommodate their large caravan, which was why he had brought Qi Wu’s group to the temple instead.

The green-clad woman thought it over and conceded the point. She was a woman of the martial world and didn’t sweat the small stuff, but if there was a better option, why stay in this drafty, leaky ruin?

Once she disappeared back into the storm, the merchants let out a collective, shuddering breath, half-expecting the woman to have morphed into a white-eyed, man-eating tiger on the spot.

“Alright, get some sleep,” Qi Wu yawned, his eyelids drooping like lead weights. “We need to be up at dawn. I never want to set foot in this cursed place again.”

Qi Wu originally wanted to sleep facing the back wall, but the mountain god statue gave him the creeps. He didn’t dare get too close to it, so he ordered everyone to lay out their bedrolls with their heads pointing toward the door.

After assigning the night watch in pairs, the exhausted men quickly drifted off.

Once the rhythmic sound of snoring filled the room, the stone eyes of the mountain god statue slowly shifted. Its gaze drifted downward, locking onto the sleeping men.

No one noticed.

***

A Yue yawned, his vision blurring as if his consciousness might slip away at any second. He and another guard had drawn the first watch.

“I’m so tired… I just want to sleep.”

“Suck it up. You heard the stories. This mountain isn’t safe…”

“Right. Can’t sleep. Still waiting for that female ghost to ambush me.”

“You’re too average-looking. Haven’t you read the stories? Ghosts like handsome men. She’d come for me.”

“Female ghosts like scholars. How many days have you even spent in a classroom? She’d want a man of culture like me who has thoroughly read the classics.”

The two men quietly bickered over the hypothetical ghost, their adrenaline spiking just enough to keep them awake.

Suddenly, a low, guttural roar vibrated through the floorboards. Even the crashing thunder and torrential rain couldn’t drown it out. The two men froze, a violent shiver running down their spines.

Just as they wondered if it was a trick of the wind, a second roar echoed. Closer.

“It’s the tiger demon!” They locked eyes, seeing their own stark terror reflected back at them.

“Wake up! Everyone get up! Monster!” A Yue screamed.

The merchants jolted awake, scrambling for their weapons. They stared dead ahead at the temple entrance, cold sweat pouring down their faces, their legs trembling uncontrollably.

The roaring ceased, replaced by the wet, heavy sound of massive lungs drawing breath. Judging by the sheer volume of the exhalations, the creature outside was a behemoth.

A shadow loomed in the rain, swelling in size until it blotted out the moonlight. The men held their breath, teetering on the edge of panic.

An enormous, monstrous tiger head pushed through the doorway. Qi Wu could see every individual, rain-slicked hair on its snout!

The beast dragged its massive, four-meter-long frame into the ruined temple, making the men’s blood run cold. Then, its thick hind legs coiled, and the monstrous tiger stood fully upright, towering over them like a furry titan!

“Old Sun, what do we do?” Qi Wu whispered in despair. A few wooden walking sticks weren’t going to stop this nightmare.

Unexpectedly, the old hunter calmly walked up to the towering beast, bowed deeply, and said, “Please, Tiger Lord. Enjoy your meal.”

“Hmm. Well done,” the tiger rumbled in perfect human speech, its cultivation level terrifyingly unclear.

Qi Wu’s eyes nearly split at the seams. He wanted to tear the old man apart with his bare hands.

The green-clad woman hadn’t been the Changui. The old hunter—their trusted guide this entire time—was the ghost thrall!

The tiger demon stretched its maw into a grotesque, human-like smile. “I originally didn’t plan on eating you. A group this large going missing tends to attract unwanted attention. But alas, you just had to talk about petitioning the Five Great Immortal Sects. I can hardly let you live after that.”

It slammed a massive paw down, pinning the old hunter to the floor. “And you. You never could fix that loose tongue of yours. You just had to tell them a ghost story, forcing my hand to clean up your mess. Do you want me to kill you a second time?”

The old hunter groveled, begging for mercy and swearing he wouldn’t dare do it again.

The tiger snorted. “Driving away that female cultivator counts as a merit. Your merits and faults cancel out. I shall spare you the Penalty this time!”

The beast didn’t care to play with its food. It leaned down, scrutinizing Qi Wu closely. A wet, gurgling sound rattled in its throat, like a man choking on phlegm. “You’re the smartest of the lot. Swear loyalty to me, and I will refine you into a Changui. You will be neither truly dead nor truly alive.”

By this point, Qi Wu’s terror had burned away into pure, unadulterated rage. He pointed a shaking finger at the old hunter and sneered. “Spend eternity roaming the woods murdering innocent people like him? I’d rather die! Pah!”

“Refusing a toast only to drink a forfeit!” the tiger demon roared. When had it ever suffered such an insult from livestock?

It flew into a blinding rage. A sonic boom erupted from its jaws, rattling the temple’s rotting roof beams as if the entire structure were about to collapse. Done talking, the beast lunged, its bloody maw snapping toward the merchants.

Qi Wu squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the inevitable crunch of his own bones.

Schwing!

A gentleman’s sword suddenly materialized, hovering horizontally between Qi Wu and the beast. A brilliant burst of sword light erupted—as blinding and pure as the morning sun—slicing a deep, sizzling gash across the tiger’s cheek.

“Who!?” the tiger demon roared, stumbling back in fury.

“Your mountain god grandpa!”