Brothel Manager 2 :Path of DUAL CULTIVATION

Next Day Morning…

Jia Kai already left the Pink Blossom tree sect on the mountain eagle.

Fatty Lambu chewed loudly on his honey-dripping bread, his round cheeks puffing like two dough balls.

Mo Han sat cross-legged beneath the Aruna tree, calm yet sharp, as though the morning mist itself was bowing to him. Fatty glanced at him suspiciously, sensing something serious about to be dropped on his head.

"Fatty," Mo Han began in a low tone, checking left and right as if spies were hiding in the bushes. "There's something you need to know about me. I… am a dual cultivator."

The bread stopped halfway to Lambu's mouth. "Pffft!" Honey sprayed out like a leaking gourd. "What?! Dual cultivator? Are you trying to scare me? Because if this is a prank, please never say this again—"

Mo Han's eyes narrowed, his tone steady. "I'm serious. My body constitution is that of a heavenly rank dual cultivator. You also know about it. I've already chosen this path. My cultivation… depends on it."

Lambu slapped his thigh so hard that crumbs fell off his robe. "No! Absolutely not! Dual cultivators—those monsters! Everyone knows they suck people's essence dry like… like hungry mosquitoes! You'll turn into one of those evil villains in bedtime stories, the ones who laugh 'Heh heh heh' while stealing maidens!"

Mo Han's lip twitched. "Do I look like a mosquito to you?"

"You don't," Lambu admitted, eyeing him from head to toe. "But maybe… like a well-dressed mosquito king."

Mo Han sighed, resisting the urge to knock sense into him. "Listen. Cultivation is everything in this world. Without strength, even the bread you're eating right now could be stolen by someone stronger. Do you want to spend your life being robbed of your food and treasures, or do you want to stand tall?"

Fatty blinked, then protectively hugged his bread. "Stand tall… but can't I just stand tall without the dual part? I'll take spirit stones, pills, swords, even dangerous missions—but women cultivation, brother? That's too scary."

Mo Han leaned forward, his voice firm. "Then listen carefully. I promise you—no one will harm you. You won't be forced into any dual cultivation. You're my brother. I'll protect you, provide resources for your growth, and ensure your cultivation soars faster than if you stay here. All you need to do… is follow me."

Lambu squirmed, scratching his belly. "But… but my parents won't agree! My mother will throw her shoe at me if she hears I joined some eternal night, dual cultivation mansion thing!"

Mo Han gave him a flat look. "Fatty. This isn't about your parents, or relatives, or any outsider. This is your life. Do you want to cling to their aprons forever, or do you want to forge your own path?"

Lambu looked conflicted, muttering, "I mean, forging sounds good, but aprons are warm and safe…"

Mo Han cut him off with a sharp tone. "My path is already chosen. In a few days, I will leave this lowly sect and head to the Eternal Night Mansion. Whether you come with me or not is your choice. If you decide to stay, I won't drag you along. But before leaving, I'll give you enough spirit stones and techniques so you can still grow. Just know—your growth will be much slower if you stay behind."

Lambu looked down at his bread, then at Mo Han. "So… if I come, you'll protect me?"

"Yes."

"And you'll give me resources? Pills, stones, manuals?"

"Yes."

"And… you'll make sure no crazy dual cultivator lady looks at me like I'm a roasted pig?"

Mo Han's lips curled into the faintest smirk. "I'll make sure of it. You'll be safe."

Lambu finally exhaled loudly, shoulders slumping. "Haaah… fine! But if I end up lying in bed drained like a dried radish, I'll haunt you as a ghost forever, Brother Mo!"

Mo Han chuckled. "If that happens, I'll offer you the best food every morning until you forgive me."

Lambu's eyes widened in delight. "Deal!" He stuffed the rest of his bread into his mouth and grinned, crumbs stuck to his lips. "Then… Eternal Night Mansion it is! But I swear, Brother Mo, if I see even one mosquito buzzing near me inside, I'm running back home!"

Mo Han shook his head with a faint smile, but inside, he was relieved. The first step was done. His brother had agreed. Now, the true journey would begin.

Just then, they both turned their heads. The sound of arrogant footsteps echoed against the stone walls.

Fatty Lambu froze mid-bite, crumbs stuck to his lips. "Oh no… this bastard comes again."

A tall, well-dressed youth entered, chin lifted high, eyes full of disdain. It was Yao Fan, the sect master's pampered son. Behind him trailed two disciples like loyal dogs, grinning smugly.

Fatty can see the same type of bruises on Yao Fan's face. He understood that Mo Han really avenged him in full.

Yao Fan strode straight to Mo Han without hesitation, his voice loud and sharp.

"Are you Mo Han?"

Mo Han remained seated under the Aruna tree, his gaze calm as water. "Yes."

Yao Fan's eyes narrowed. "Yes? That's all? Where is your bow? Where is your respect?" He jabbed the stick in his hand toward Mo Han's face. "How dare you, a servant, lift your head to me? Do you forget who I am? Do you forget your place?!"

Fatty Lambu nearly choked on his bread. "Uh oh…" he whispered, scooting behind Mo Han like a turtle hiding in its shell.

Mo Han rose slowly to his feet, his expression still plain, almost detached. But there was a sharpness in his eyes that cut through the arrogance in front of him.

"I may be a servant," he said softly, his tone steady as steel, "but I am not an easy one to humiliate."

Yao Fan's grip on the stick tightened. "What did you say? You dare to—" He raised his stick high, ready to bring it down on Mo Han's shoulder. His disciples sneered, already imagining Mo Han groveling in the dust.

But before the stick could descend, Mo Han moved.

-

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