Who Let Him Cultivate？

Chapter 54: Naming the Shop

Having pinpointed their target’s location, Lu Yang regrouped with the other two in a shadowed alleyway. He ran through the tactical analysis.

“Judging by the heavy, measured cadence of Qin Yuanhao’s footsteps and his controlled breathing, he’s definitely sitting at the late stages of Foundation Establishment.” Lu Yang mapped out the street in his mind. “The residence itself is entirely unremarkable. The courtyard is cramped, and there’s no sign of servants. He’s a lone wolf.”

He looked at his companions. “We need to set up a stakeout nearby. First, we study his daily routines. If we manage to infiltrate the demonic cult later and someone questions us, we can’t afford to look clueless. Second, we tail him and see if he leads us straight to the Yanjiang Branch stronghold.”

Man Gu frowned, his polite, scholarly demeanor contrasting with his towering, muscular frame. “Qin Yuanhao commands a small army of street thugs. Why not simply track his subordinates to find the Yanjiang Branch?”

Meng Jingzhou waved a hand, dismissing the idea with the effortless arrogance of a wealthy young master. “Market saturation of useless pawns. Those thugs are mortals. Yes, they take orders from Qin Yuanhao, but they aren’t actual cultists. The demonic cult isn’t some street gang you can just waltz into. I’d wager half those idiots don’t even know their boss is a demonic cultivator.”

“The real issue,” Meng Jingzhou continued, “is finding a vantage point. There are no inns on this street. Just a handful of teahouses and taverns. We can sip tea during the day without drawing suspicion, but what’s our excuse for loitering around at night?”

And the demonic cult loved the night shift.

Lu Yang rubbed his chin, his eyes scanning the dimly lit street. Suddenly, his gaze snagged on a wooden placard hanging from a two-story teahouse across the way: For Rent.

A spark of inspiration hit him. “That teahouse. The location is flawless—the second-floor windows look right down onto Qin Yuanhao’s courtyard. We lease the building, set up a storefront, and use the business as a front for our surveillance!”

Meng Jingzhou nodded in approval. “A solid business model. What kind of shop are we opening?”

“It has to be a convincing disguise,” Lu Yang reasoned. “I don’t know the first thing about brewing high-grade tea, so keeping it a teahouse is out.”

“I have an elder in my family who specializes in linguistic spells,” Meng Jingzhou offered, his eyes gleaming with professional pride. “I studied under him for a time. I propose we open a stand-up comedy theater. I shall be the headline act.”

Lu Yang stared at him, genuinely impressed by the sheer breadth of Meng Jingzhou’s random talents, but shook his head. “Comedy is a daytime market. The foot traffic dies at sundown. We need a nighttime business model. An entertainment venue. Something loud, filled with alcohol and rowdy patrons. If everyone is busy drinking and having a good time, we can observe Qin Yuanhao from the second floor without him ever noticing us.”

A furious blush crept up Meng Jingzhou’s neck. He hesitated, though a distinct glimmer of excitement betrayed him. “A nighttime entertainment venue… with drinking… and distractions? Brother Lu, are you suggesting we open a…”

Lu Yang nodded solemnly. “Exactly. I’m talking about a barbecue joint.”

Meng Jingzhou blinked. “…Right. That is exactly what I was thinking.”

Lu Yang mentally reviewed the logistics. Barbecue was foolproof. The barrier to entry was practically nonexistent. Even if you charred the meat to ash the first dozen times, you eventually figured out the timing.

“I shall handle the culinary arts,” Man Gu volunteered, smiling with absolute confidence. To prove his credentials, the towering barbarian reached into his robes and produced a crumpled piece of parchment. Written across the top in bold ink was: Ancestral Secret Barbecue Recipe.

Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou stared at the parchment. It looked incredibly familiar.

Wait. Wasn’t that the exact same Ancestral Secret Barbecue Recipe listed on the Dao Seeking Sect’s exchange board for a staggering one hundred Contribution Points?!

Man Gu offered a wholesome, honest smile. “Back in the wastelands, I frequently roasted wild beasts—black bears, wild boars, the occasional rabbit. When I arrived at the Dao Seeking Sect, I noticed a distinct lack of late-night street food culture. So, I monetized my family’s recipe and put it on the exchange board.”

Lu Yang felt a vein throb in his temple. He had spent weeks wondering what kind of lunatic would list a barbecue recipe next to high-tier martial arts manuals. It was you!

“Did anyone actually buy it?” Meng Jingzhou asked, morbidly curious.

“Indeed,” Man Gu replied earnestly. “A Senior Brother informed me that after purchasing the recipe, he took a Senior Sister on a wilderness expedition. He successfully utilized the roasted meats to capture her heart.”

Meng Jingzhou stared into the middle distance. “…I shouldn’t have asked.”

Man Gu’s smile widened just a fraction. “Furthermore, this venture boasts another distinct advantage.”

“Which is?”

Man Gu raised a hand. The air chilled, smelling faintly of wet fur and old blood. Two spectral figures materialized in the alleyway—Changui, the bound ghosts of those devoured by tigers. They stood at attention, their hollow eyes staring blankly ahead.

“I do not even need to cook the meat myself,” Man Gu explained politely. “I will assign these two Changui to man the grills in the kitchen. They require no wages, do not need to sleep, and will never leak our secrets. It is highly efficient.”

Zero overhead. No need to hire waiters. Absolute operational secrecy. It was a terrifyingly optimized business strategy.

Man Gu had clearly been spending too much time with Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou.

Lu Yang vehemently refused to accept any responsibility for the barbarian’s sudden grasp of ruthless capitalism.

That night, Man Gu stayed up meticulously refining the secret recipe. Since his homeland was the untamed wilderness, many of the original ingredients were highly toxic or simply didn’t exist in civilized lands. He needed to find local substitutes.

“By the way,” Man Gu asked, looking up from his notes. “Do you gentlemen partake in roasted centipedes or charred bovine eyes?”

Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou shook their heads in perfect, horrified unison, begging Man Gu to keep the menu within the realm of human sanity.

Man Gu said, “Oh.” He thought about it for a moment.

Premise one: He was a perfectly normal person.

Premise two: He found roasted cow eyes delicious.

Conclusion: Therefore, normal people found roasted cow eyes delicious.

Flawless logic.

Man Gu kept the roasted insects and bovine eyes on the menu, hoping the fine citizens of Yanjiang County would appreciate the regional flair.

Early the next morning, Meng Jingzhou flexed his absurd financial muscle and simply bought the entire teahouse outright.

“Hold on, didn’t we agree to rent?” Lu Yang asked, staring at the deed in Meng Jingzhou’s hand. The transaction had happened so fast he hadn’t even had time to blink. They were only going to be on this mission for a few months. Was Meng Jingzhou planning to run a street-food empire for the rest of his life?

Meng Jingzhou scoffed, his tone dripping with aristocratic righteousness. “I do not lease. If I can buy it, I own it! We can simply liquidate the asset once the mission concludes.”

The original teahouse owner, having received a bag of gold heavy enough to cause a concussion, had already packed his bags and sprinted out of the city.

With the building secured, the trio sat around an empty table to face their most grueling trial yet: branding.

“I propose we call it ‘Meng’s Premium Skewers’,” Meng Jingzhou declared.

Lu Yang shot him a look of profound disdain. “Too tacky. No brand identity. I propose ‘Three Bowls Before the Ridge Barbecue’. You eat some skewers, down three bowls of wine, and then march up a mountain to beat a tiger to death. It sets a strong, martial tone.”

Meng Jingzhou and Man Gu shook their heads. Neither saw how beating up local wildlife sold roasted meat.

Man Gu, who rarely voiced dissenting opinions, raised a hand. “That name is far too wordy. Why not adopt the naming conventions of my tribe? We could call it ‘Hahaha Barbecue’ or perhaps ‘Heeheehee Barbecue’.”

Lu Yang shuddered. He had heard of the wilderness tribes’ naming conventions. Even within the highly progressive Dao Seeking Sect, their branding was considered avant-garde. He recalled hearing about the Hehehe Weaponry Forge, the Roar Tavern, and the infamous Awoo Brothel.

“How about ‘Tribulation Transcendence Stage Barbecue’?”

“Not as punchy as ‘Immortal Ascension Skewers’.”

“I think ‘Light Boat Barbecue’ has a nice ring to it.”

“Who gives a barbecue joint a poetic name?!”

After an hour of aggressive debate, the three of them were forced to accept a grim reality: they were all completely incompetent at naming things.

“Forget it,” Lu Yang sighed, rubbing his temples. “We’ll each write a name on a slip of paper, crumple them up, and draw lots. Whatever gets picked is the name.”

The other two agreed. Since Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou were both notoriously underhanded, they decided it was safest to let the honest, wholesome Man Gu draw the lots.

Man Gu cupped his massive hands together, enclosing the three crumpled paper balls. He shook them vigorously, the paper rattling against his palms. He opened his thumbs slightly, and two of the paper balls tumbled out onto the table.

He picked up the first one and uncrumpled it.

It read: Try Again.

Frowning, Man Gu picked up the second piece of paper and smoothed it out.

It read: Thank You for Your Patronage.

Man Gu: “???”

For a long, silent moment, the barbarian’s scholarly brain completely short-circuited. They were supposed to be drawing a name for a restaurant… not playing a rigged street lottery… right?