Who Let Him Cultivate？

Chapter 51: Forgot Something

When Qi Wu had first stumbled upon the old hunter, the neighboring households had seemed perfectly ordinary. In reality, they were all Changui—hollow, enslaved souls wearing human skin.

With the Tiger Demon dead, the surviving Changui were a panicked, leaderless mess. Some argued for fleeing down the mountain; others shrieked that they should remain hidden in the woods. Before they could reach a consensus, the trio descended upon them.

Meng Jingzhou didn’t even draw a weapon. He simply flared a fraction of his Pure Yang Qi. The sheer, blistering heat of his spiritual foundation washed over the clearing, causing the Changui to collapse, their ethereal forms boiling as they wailed in agony.

“We don’t need this many,” Lu Yang said, his voice devoid of warmth. “Two are enough to impersonate demonic cultivators.”

He felt zero pity for these creatures. To become a Changui, one had to willingly agree to the Tiger Demon’s terms, luring innocent travelers to their deaths just to spare themselves.

They deserved the void.

Lu Yang formed a hand seal, attempting once more to bind a ghost servant. Instead, he felt that familiar, weightless lurch as his own Yin Soul popped right out of his physical body. He sighed, snapping his soul back into place.

“Man Gu. You’re up.”

Man Gu offered a polite nod. He stepped forward, his massive frame casting a long shadow. He selected two Changui who had originally been travelers—a much safer disguise than the local hunters, which might tip off the demonic sect that they had killed the tiger. As for the rest? Man Gu obliterated them with terrifying, bone-crushing efficiency.

“Retract,” Man Gu commanded. The two surviving Changui dissolved into mist and were sucked into his body, safely stored away until they were needed for battle.

By the time the trio headed toward Yanjiang County, they found Qi Wu and his caravan still wandering in muddy circles through the rain-slicked forest. Without a guide, the merchants were hopelessly lost.

“Benefactors!” Qi Wu cried out, his face lighting up as if he had just seen a descending deity.

“Your great kindness and virtue—we will never forget it!”

“The Mountain God has answered our prayers!”

“We owe you our lives!”

The merchants swarmed them, their voices trembling with genuine, tearful gratitude.

Listening to their heartfelt thanks, the lingering chill in Lu Yang’s chest finally began to thaw. The suffocating memory of the bone-filled cave receded, replaced by the warmth of actual, living people who got to go home.

Meng Jingzhou stood tall, his hands clasped behind his back, his face a mask of solemn, untouchable virtue. “We cultivators walk the righteous path. Saving lives is our duty. There is no need for thanks.”

Standing nearby, Man Gu observed Meng Jingzhou with quiet awe. Such humility, the scholar thought. To remain so calm and composed in the face of such adoration… I truly have much to learn from him.

Lu Yang didn’t even need to look at Meng Jingzhou to know the truth. He knew, with absolute certainty, that the arrogant rich kid was vibrating with smug joy on the inside, his ego currently expanding to the size of a small moon.

How did Lu Yang know this?

Because Lu Yang was currently wearing the exact same expression of profound, untouchable virtue.

***

By the time they escorted the merchants to the borders of Yanjiang County, dawn had broken. The torrential rain finally ceased, leaving a faint, shimmering rainbow hanging over the horizon.

Meng Jingzhou paused, scratching his chin. “Speaking of which… did we forget something?”

Lu Yang looked around and counted. “One, two, three. Three people, three brains. We didn’t lose anyone.”

“I just feel like we’re missing something,” Meng Jingzhou muttered. “Ah, whatever. Probably wasn’t important.”

…

Miles away, in the quiet backyard of a Qinghuai County inn, a premium carriage sat parked.

An old horse leisurely chewed on a trough full of spiritually infused oats. Where is that Meng kid? the horse thought, snorting in annoyance. This feed is only going to last a few more days. Didn’t he say this mission would take five days, tops?

As a rare Demon Beast, the old horse couldn’t stomach ordinary hay. It required the high-grade, meticulously prepared spiritual feed that Meng Jingzhou had bought at an exorbitant price.

The old horse smacked its lips, thoroughly bored. Then, out of the corner of its eye, it spotted a snow-white mare in the neighboring stall. The old horse perked up.

…

Yanjiang County was bustling. The trio slipped into the city, found a quiet teahouse, and ordered a pot of green tea and a few plates of pastries to plan their next move.

“Yanjiang County is massive,” Man Gu said, his brow furrowing as he poured the tea. “It has a population of two million. Finding this Qin Yuanhao is going to be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Should we ask the local magistrate for help?”

Lu Yang waved a hand, dismissing the idea. “Too risky. We have no idea how long the demonic sect has been operating here. Their roots could run deep. For all we know, they have the local government in their pocket.”

Man Gu looked genuinely baffled. “But the demonic sect is the enemy of all mankind. Why would the authorities help them?”

Meng Jingzhou leaned in, entirely in his element when it came to bureaucratic corruption. “Precisely because they are the enemy. The Great Xia Dynasty added a specific metric to the performance evaluations of local officials: ‘Number of Demons Slain.’ The more demonic cultivators a magistrate kills, and the higher their cultivation, the faster that magistrate gets promoted.”

He took a sip of tea. “Now, think about it. A smart demonic sect could just strike a deal with the County Magistrate. The sect periodically hands over a few low-level grunts to be executed, padding the Magistrate’s quotas. In return, the Magistrate turns a blind eye and keeps the sect’s main hideout a secret.”

This wasn’t just a theory. Meng Jingzhou had heard it directly from an elder in his family who served in the imperial court. The Xia Emperor executed corrupt officials by the batch, but there were always those who slipped through the net. Some in the court had tried to abolish the quota system entirely, but the Prime Minister had vetoed it. The logic was grim but practical: while a few officials might collude with the enemy, removing the incentive meant no one would bother hunting the demonic sects at all.

Man Gu sat back, his scholarly worldview slightly shattered. He had never even considered such a cynical arrangement.

“The chances of the Magistrate actively colluding with the Yanjiang Branch aren’t guaranteed,” Lu Yang added, “but we have to plan for the worst. If we reveal ourselves to the government, a corrupt Magistrate might just hand Qin Yuanhao over to us to keep us quiet. But the moment that happens, the rest of the Yanjiang Branch will scatter into the wind. We’d lose our chance to infiltrate them.”

“So we stay in the shadows,” Man Gu concluded. “But how do we lure Qin Yuanhao out? We can’t exactly post bounties on the notice boards. And if we ask around the black market, he’ll hear about it and either go into hiding or ambush us.” Man Gu looked between his two companions. “I assume you two have a brilliant strategy?”

Lu Yang grinned. He had been workshopping this idea ever since they walked down the mountain.

“Do you know what separates us orthodox cultivators from the scum of the martial world?” Lu Yang asked, leaning across the table. “Face. Reputation. To a demonic cultivator, their terrifying reputation is their status. A blow to their pride is worse than a blade to the heart.”

Lu Yang’s smile widened into something truly devious. “So, we are going to launch a rumor campaign. We will spread the word that Qin Yuanhao is a saint. We’ll tell everyone that he spends his days rescuing orphans, helping the elderly cross the street, and secretly donating his wealth to the poor.”

Man Gu blinked, trying to process the sheer absurdity of the plan.

“Think about it!” Lu Yang urged. “Once the entire Yanjiang Branch hears that Qin Yuanhao is a good person, the sheer, unadulterated humiliation will drive him insane! To a demonic cultivator, being called a philanthropist is the ultimate slur. He’ll feel so insulted that he’ll have no choice but to jump out of hiding just to prove how evil he is!”

“That’s our opening,” Meng Jingzhou said, his eyes lighting up with malicious glee. “Fabricating lies, assassinating character, and spreading baseless rumors? Say no more.”

Coincidentally, Meng Jingzhou was a natural-born prodigy at slandering people.

Man Gu’s eyes widened in sudden realization. It was actually a brilliant tactical maneuver. If they couldn’t find the rat, they would just smoke him out with kindness.

Still, as Man Gu looked at the wicked, conspiratorial grins on Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou’s faces, a single thought crossed his mind:

Is this really what ‘orthodox sect behavior’ looks like?