Who Let Him Cultivate？

Chapter 63: Be Careful, The Opponent Is Very Strange

“Captain Wei. Dawn has barely broken. If you’re here for the skewers, you’re going to be severely disappointed,” Lu Yang drawled, leaning against the doorframe with a dry, welcoming smile.

It was still early morning when Captain Wei marched up to the barbecue shop, flanked by two constables and bearing a rolled-up silk tapestry.

“Nonsense. I’ve brought the commendation banner we agreed upon yesterday,” Captain Wei declared.

With a dramatic flick of his wrists, he unfurled the banner right there on the bustling street, intentionally displaying it for maximum exposure. The gold-threaded characters gleamed in the morning light: Valor in the Face of Peril; Champions of Righteousness.

The theatrical display immediately drew a crowd of murmuring onlookers.

The two constables marched inside, hoisting the banner high and mounting it on the wall directly opposite the main entrance, ensuring it was the first thing any patron would see.

Originally, there had been two Changui in the main hall, diligently threading meat onto skewers. Anticipating the constabulary’s arrival, Lu Yang had banished the spectral laborers to the backyard, instructing them to continue their meat-prep in absolute secrecy.

Lu Yang brought over three steaming cups of tea, his tone casual as he probed for intel. “Did you manage to extract anything from those bumbling thieves yesterday? Where exactly did these outsiders hail from, to possess the sheer audacity to provoke the renowned Iron-Faced Captain?”

“Bah! Don’t even mention it. We extracted absolutely nothing.” Captain Wei snatched up a cup of scalding hot water, tea leaves and all, and downed it in a single, furious gulp.

A Foundation Establishment cultivator’s esophagus was, after all, impervious to localized boiling.

“And why is that?” Lu Yang asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Those imbeciles possessed the willpower of wet paper. A little intimidation and they were singing. But just as they were about to confess why a coordinated group of cultivators had infiltrated Yanjiang County, they were silenced by an assassin from the void. Nine ox-hair poison needles, buried deep in their necks. Instantaneous cessation of life. The interrogation room was entirely sealed; we still haven’t deduced the vector of infiltration.”

Captain Wei slammed the empty cup onto the table. “My immediate instinct was to breach the perimeter and hunt the assassin down, but I found nothing but empty air. Later, the realization struck me—the assassin must be a master of umbral arts. He embedded himself within the room’s shadows beforehand. The moment we began the interrogation, he executed the targets. While I was charging outside like a fool, he simply slipped away through the very shadows I cast.”

“If I had simply blockaded the door, that phantom would never have escaped. I am consumed by regret that my righteous fury blinded my tactical judgment!” Having delivered this dramatic monologue, Captain Wei snatched the remaining two teacups meant for his subordinates and downed them in rapid succession.

The two constables stared at their captain with blank, hollow expressions. They hadn’t even been offered a sip.

Lu Yang maintained his deadpan smile as he saw off the infuriated Captain Wei and his two tragically dehydrated subordinates.

Once the coast was clear, Meng Jingzhou’s telepathic voice echoed in Lu Yang’s mind. “According to yesterday’s operational parameters, we proceed with the termination of Qin Yuanhao?”

After returning the previous night, Lu Yang had briefed them on his reconnaissance. Since they had successfully pinpointed the hidden location of the Yanjiang Branch, Qin Yuanhao’s continued existence was no longer a tactical necessity.

The trio had spent the night drafting a comprehensive ambush protocol. Specifically, Lu Yang and Meng Jingzhou had engineered the trap, while Man Gu sat nearby, nodding solemnly at words he barely understood.

“Patience,” Lu Yang replied, his mind already calculating the optimal exploitation of their resources. “I have a disruptive vision for this encounter. Let us optimize our preparations.”

***

A figure draped in a heavy black robe knocked lightly upon the imposing gates of Qin Yuanhao’s mansion. Minutes bled by. No one answered.

The robed figure simply stood there, unmoving.

Finally, the heavy wooden doors groaned open. There was no one on the other side; the gates had unlatched themselves. The wide-open entrance resembled the gaping maw of a primordial beast, eager to devour the ignorant.

The black-robed figure calmly stepped over the threshold. The instant he was inside, the gates slammed shut with a thunderous bang, the heavy iron bolt sliding into place of its own accord, sealing him within the courtyard.

Unfazed, the figure produced a bone token and spoke into the empty air. “Is Senior Qin Yuanhao present? I have come on behalf of my master to pay my respects.”

“I wondered what foul wind blew you here. It is merely the Changui bound to Brother Tiger.”

The voice materialized directly behind the Changui. Qin Yuanhao had appeared out of thin air, his movements so devoid of spiritual fluctuation that the ghost hadn’t even sensed his approach.

“Speak your purpose.”

“My master has spent the past few days contemplating your proposal,” the Changui said, bowing low. “He agrees that it is easier to enjoy the shade beneath a towering tree. He wishes to pledge his loyalty to the Yanjiang Branch. However, he harbors certain reservations and humbly requests your presence at Song Mountain for a private summit.”

Qin Yuanhao eyed the spectral servant with dark amusement. “Oh? Brother Tiger maintained his silence for so long, I assumed he lacked the ambition to join our Immortal Cult.”

The Changui offered an apologetic, sycophantic smile. “My master’s cognitive processes require… extensive deliberation.”

Qin Yuanhao’s expression instantly darkened into a mask of lethal intent. His hand shot out, his fingers clamping around the spirit’s throat like a vice of cold iron. “You dare play parlor tricks with me? Speak! Who sent you? Given Brother Tiger’s paranoid nature, he would never take the initiative to join the Yanjiang Branch!”

The Changui thrashed in terror, desperately gasping that no one had sent him.

Qin Yuanhao merely tightened his grip, squeezing until the Changui’s ethereal form began to destabilize and fray at the edges. Only when the spirit was on the verge of total dissipation did it finally break.

“A-A few days ago!” the Changui choked out. “Some reckless cultivators trespassed on Song Mountain and stumbled upon my master’s den. My master slaughtered them, but upon inspecting their spatial artifacts, he discovered they belonged to an elite orthodox sect. Their elders include Golden Core stage paragons!”

“My master is terrified that a Golden Core paragon will track the bloodline curse to his doorstep! In his panic, he remembered your invitation, Senior Qin. After convincing the mistress, he resolved to seek asylum with the Yanjiang Branch. He sent me to beg for your presence to negotiate the terms of his sanctuary!”

Having extracted a logically sound confession, Qin Yuanhao casually discarded the dissipating ghost. “That sounds more like the coward I know.”

His suspicions assuaged, Qin Yuanhao followed the Changui toward Song Mountain.

“Senior Qin, my master awaits you in the clearing just ahead,” the Changui said with deep reverence. “He despises eavesdroppers. I shall remain here. Please, proceed.”

Qin Yuanhao ignored the lowly spirit and strode forward alone.

The ancient forest was dense and suffocatingly quiet, untouched by human presence for centuries. The distant, melancholic cry of a raven only amplified the profound stillness of the woods.

In the clearing ahead, a thirteen-foot-long tiger demon sat cross-legged upon a massive boulder. A stone table rested before it, set with two steaming cups of tea—a perfect tableau of a host awaiting an honored guest.

Seeing his target, Qin Yuanhao unconsciously relaxed his guard, his pace quickening.

Suddenly, his innate cultivation technique flared to life without conscious thought. A shimmering, translucent barrier of spiritual qi erupted across his epidermis, violently deflecting an invisible, lethal force. A single, shallow bead of crimson bloomed across his throat.

“An ambush!”

Relying on decades of life-and-death combat experience, Qin Yuanhao threw himself backward. As he retreated, the ambient light caught the edge of the trap: a nearly imperceptible, translucent thread suspended in the air at exact neck height.

“Well, look at that. The noodles actually worked. It nearly decapitated him.”

A voice dripping with deadpan schadenfreude drifted down from the canopy to Qin Yuanhao’s right. It was Meng Jingzhou.

What Qin Yuanhao had perceived as a razor-thin wire of doom was, in fact, a strand of Dragon Whisker Noodles, procured by Lu Yang from the sect cafeteria. According to the Senior Brother who peddled the noodles, this specific type was an instrument of untraceable assassination, optimized for severing arteries in ambushes.

Had it not been for Qin Yuanhao’s esoteric cultivation technique, which possessed an automated, reactionary defense matrix, his head would currently be rolling across the forest floor.

“You dare scheme against me?!” Qin Yuanhao roared, glaring murderously at the tiger demon. There was no negotiation; this had been a kill-box from the very beginning!

But the tiger demon had already vanished like mist.

Before Qin Yuanhao could process the illusion, the earth beneath his boots liquefied into a treacherous mire. From the subterranean depths, the Qingfeng Sword erupted—a vicious, upward thrust aimed with surgical precision at his most vital, unmentionable meridian.

Through sheer, adrenaline-fueled reflex, Qin Yuanhao snapped his right knee inward. The bone collided with the flat of the Qingfeng Sword, violently deflecting the blade just inches from his groin, preserving his ancestral lineage.

Realizing the catastrophic disadvantage of his position, Qin Yuanhao didn’t hesitate. He spun on his heel and bolted.

He was entirely blind to their numbers and capabilities, while they had pre-calculated his every move. Only a fool would stay and fight.

It must be fellow practitioners of the demonic path! Qin Yuanhao concluded furiously. That subterranean sword strike was profoundly degenerate. What self-respecting orthodox cultivator aims for the groin?!

But Man Gu had been lying in wait along the escape vector. Roaring, the barbarian swung an entire, uprooted pine tree like a colossal club, smashing it directly into Qin Yuanhao’s torso and launching him through the air like a cannonball.

“Huh? Where’s the kinetic feedback?” Man Gu muttered, staring at his tree trunk in confusion. He had clearly struck the target dead-on, but the impact felt like striking a sheet of parchment.

Qin Yuanhao sailed through the air, his momentum unbroken, completely uninjured by the devastating blow.

“Pay attention to his cultivation technique! It defies conventional physics!” Man Gu bellowed a warning.

“A few wet-behind-the-ears juniors think they can apprehend me? You’re a century too early to claim my life!” Qin Yuanhao cackled wildly as he soared through the canopy. As long as they couldn’t decipher the true mechanics of his defensive arts, he was virtually untouchable.

Below him, Lu Yang calmly ascended into the air, his expression a mask of absolute, deadpan detachment. He raised his sect identity jade pendant, aiming it at the fleeing demonic cultivator like a divine adjudicator.

“Collect.”

Qin Yuanhao blinked, his momentum faltering. He stared at the glowing jade pendant, utterly bewildered. It looked like a modified Storage Ring, but spatial artifacts couldn’t store living beings. What was this idiot trying to accomplish?

Then, he noticed that Lu Yang and the other two were staring at him with deeply complicated, almost pitying expressions.

A sudden, brisk chill assaulted his skin.

Qin Yuanhao slowly looked down.

A flawless spatial displacement of defensive layers had occurred. His robes, his armor, his very dignity—all of it had been forcibly vacuumed into the jade pendant’s dimensional void.

Hanging suspended in the air, clad only in a pair of modest undergarments, the fearsome demonic cultivator shivered in the wind.

“Fuck you!” Qin Yuanhao roared, his voice cracking with sheer indignation. “You’re the ones who are profoundly unnatural!”