No Fighting Allowed in the Inn

The numerical values of the defensive artifacts plummeted, and the inn's funds drained rapidly, making Lu Jianwei's heart ache with every loss.

Unfortunately, the artifacts only worked within the confines of the inn, and the two assailants lurked just outside. Even if she upgraded the offensive artifacts now, she couldn’t harm them in the slightest.

Truthfully, Xiao Ke had detected their movements long before they struck.

Lu Jianwei had assumed they would enter the inn to negotiate—never expecting them to resort to lethal force immediately.

Why?

After a moment’s thought, she understood.

The reputation of the Eight Directions Inn wasn’t formidable enough, its deterrence insufficient to make renowned martial artists of the jianghu bow their heads.

Those who could cultivate to the level of a Sixth-rank Martial Master were rare, requiring both exceptional talent and fortune. The gifted were often prideful, and the fortunate tended to gamble recklessly.

Before making their move, they must have thoroughly investigated the Eight Directions Inn.

An inn that appeared out of nowhere, repelling over two hundred attackers overnight—it sounded terrifying.

But to Sixth-rank experts and well-defended sects, such feats weren’t enough to make them retreat.

The inn’s strongest fighter was Yan Feicang. Lu Jianwei’s rank was unknown, but given her youth, the likelihood of her being a top-tier master was minuscule.

That left one conclusion: there must be a hidden expert within the inn.

A Sixth-rank master might not be capable of such techniques, but with two of them employing esoteric formations and deceitful strategies, replicating the feat wasn’t impossible.

As for Seventh or Eighth-rank masters—they had considered that possibility too.

But in the jianghu, all martial artists above the Sixth rank were well-known figures, each guarding major factions or sects.

A Seventh or Eighth-rank master wouldn’t remain obscure—certainly not running an inn.

After careful investigation, they found no such expert associated with the Eight Directions Inn.

Thus, they concluded: the inn harbored no terrifying Martial King-level figure. It was all smoke and mirrors.

The two outside never ceased their assault.

In their eyes, Wen Zhuzhi—who had nothing but money—was expendable.

Yet, every attack aimed at him dissolved before impact, swallowed by a force far more profound.

The inn’s occupants: "…"

Though they’d long known of the inn’s mysteries, witnessing such divine intervention firsthand still left them awestruck.

Lu Jianwei remained motionless, exuding the calm and composed demeanor of a true master.

"Many thanks, Innkeeper Lu," Wen Zhuzhi said leisurely, as if he hadn’t just been the target of an assassination attempt.

Lu Jianwei inwardly scoffed. *This man is insane!*

Had she been a deceitful fraud with no protective artifacts, he’d be dead by now.

*No wonder he’s filthy rich—these people are anything but simple.*

With a casual wave, she replied, "You paid ten thousand taels for protection. It’s only right I keep you safe."

The three Mystic Mirror Envoys: *Ten thousand taels?!*

The wealth of Jiangnan’s richest man was truly staggering—though considering the Eight Directions Inn’s capabilities, it was money well spent.

Outside, the two attackers, seeing their efforts futile, grew agitated.

One roared in a rough voice, "Hei Hou of the Black Wind Fortress has come to challenge! Where is this so-called master? Too cowardly to face us?!"

Jin Poxiao muttered, "So it’s Hei Hou. The eldest son of the Black Wind Fortress’s lord, thirty-five years old, a Sixth-rank master specializing in the *pudao*."

"And the other must be his twin brother, Hei Zhong," Uncle Zhang speculated. "Both are renowned for their brute strength—one wields a blade, the other a hammer."

Lu Jianwei understood.

Against them, brute force wouldn’t work. Only agility could prevail.

"What, has the inn no men? Only turtles hiding in their shells?"

"Hahaha! No wonder they let a woman run the place!"

The brothers taunted mercilessly.

"Innkeeper!" Xue Guanhe, having just finished washing dishes, stormed out from the kitchen, livid. "They’re going too far!"

Yue Shu clenched his fists, guilt written across his face.

This mess was his fault. If only he’d found that treasure map and handed it over.

Lu Jianwei chuckled.

"Patience. Vermin like them only dare bark from outside—see if they’ll step a single foot inside."

When it came to verbal sparring, she never lost.

These two were clearly afraid the inn was booby-trapped—too cowardly to risk entering.

*Spineless fools.*

Xue Guanhe nodded. "Right! All talk, no action. ‘Come and learn from us,’ my foot. Fitting names—thick as city walls."

The others: *No wonder they’re master and disciple—same sharp tongue.*

The two outside seethed.

"Eight Directions Inn? More like ‘Smoke and Mirrors Inn’! You can fool idiots, but not the Black Wind Fortress!"

"Brother, let’s burn it down! Let’s see them hide then!"

"Brilliant!"

Lu Jianwei’s smile vanished, her eyes turning icy.

"Yan Feicang. Don’t you want to test your blade?"

Yan Feicang, ever the battle-hungry warrior, had been itching for a fight. At her words, his saber flashed from its sheath as he vaulted over the wall.

A seasoned fighter, his blade tore through the air like a roaring dragon, striking towards the brothers in the northwest!

Outnumbered two to one, his momentum didn’t wane—if anything, it surged.

The saber clashed against Hei Hou’s *pudao*, the impact resonating like a warhorn. The shockwaves of Sixth-rank power sent sand swirling, yet when they hit the inn, they dissipated harmlessly.

"Third Form of Surging Tides—*Cloud-Splitting Strike*!"

Yan Feicang’s aura intensified. His ancient Tang saber descended like thunder, its light blinding as the sun, slashing relentlessly at the Hei brothers.

Hei Hou raised his blade, bellowing, "Well struck!"

"As expected of the jianghu’s top bladesman!" Hei Zhong laughed wildly, twin hammers charging toward Yan Feicang’s back.

Caught between them, Yan Feicang was in dire straits.

Jin Poxiao panicked. "I’ll assist him!"

"Brother Jin," Wen Zhuzhi stopped him. "A battle between Sixth-rank masters is no place for you."

Jin Poxiao was only Fifth-rank—the residual force alone could cripple him.

"But Yan Feicang, as strong as he is, can’t hold forever against two—"

Wen Zhuzhi shook his head. "He’s been seeking a breakthrough. This is his chance."

Jin Poxiao clenched his fists but held back.

"Fine. I’ll wait. Innkeeper Lu—huh? Where is she?"

Wei Liu spoke up. "Sister Lu went to the third floor."

"Ah, better vantage point." Jin Poxiao waved. "Let’s head up too."

"My young master—"

Before A'Nai could finish, Jin Poxiao hoisted the wheelchair, carrying Wen Zhuzhi to the second-floor corridor.

Wen Zhuzhi: "…"

"There we go. Much clearer view."

Jin Poxiao peered outside, relieved to see Yan Feicang still holding his ground.

The group gathered on the second floor, eyes fixed on the battle.

A duel between Sixth-rank masters was rare—let alone one against two!

On the third floor, Lu Jianwei leaned against the railing.

The longer she practiced the Nameless Technique, the more she grasped its profundities. The deeper her understanding, the sharper her insight into martial arts became.

She could spot flaws effortlessly and instinctively knew how to maximize the lethality of any technique.

The Hei brothers relied on brute force and heavy weapons—powerful, but riddled with openings.

The duel had lasted for the time it takes to drink a cup of tea.

Yan Feicang, fighting one against two, was gradually exhausting his inner energy. Trapped between the relentless attacks of the Hei brothers, his situation grew increasingly dire.

"This won’t do. If this continues, Brother Yan will be seriously injured!" Jin Poxiao paced anxiously. "I have to help him!"

A'Nai also frowned. "Young Master, perhaps I should go instead."

Though he enjoyed bickering with Yan Feicang, he couldn’t bear to see him cornered.

"You little brat, stay out of this!" Jin Poxiao drew his broadsword. "I’m going!"

"Brother Jin—"

"Don’t stop me!"

"Hei Zhong is slightly weaker than Hei Hou. He wields twin hammers, his arms are thick, and his back is as hard as armor. His weak point is an inch below the ear."

At the same time, a voice called down from the upper floor: "Yan Feicang, is your scabbard truly just a dead weight? Tilt your blade three inches upward, then rotate the scabbard four points down to the right behind your back!"

Yan Feicang, caught in the heat of battle, instinctively obeyed.

His right hand thrust the blade forward, striking Hei Hou squarely on the bridge of the nose mid-air, while his left hand twisted the scabbard backward, jabbing it precisely below Hei Zhong’s ear.

To avoid losing his nose, Hei Hou immediately retreated. Hei Zhong, struck below the ear, felt a wave of numbness engulf his body and collapsed stiffly to the ground, his twin hammers smashing two deep craters into the earth.

"Brother!"

Hei Hou roared in fury, his attacks growing even fiercer. His broadsword, longer and heavier than Yan Feicang’s tangdao, slashed with ruthless brutality.

Lu Jianwei called out, "Yan Feicang, fourth stance—press the blade down, then strike. Target the Yangchi point on his right arm."

"Whoosh—" The tangdao, held back momentarily, unleashed an unstoppable force, its tip piercing Hei Hou’s Yangchi point.

Hei Hou’s right arm abruptly went limp, his grip loosening as the broadsword clattered to the ground. Shock and rage surged through his meridians, and he spat a mouthful of blood.

Seizing the opportunity, Yan Feicang pressed forward, knocking him unconscious.

In a single move, he had turned peril into triumph, defeating two sixth-rank experts—a feat that sent thrills through everyone watching.

He looked up at the high tower, his heart brimming with unspoken words.

Lu Jianwei surveyed the battlefield from above, relieved to see the Hei brothers completely incapacitated.

"Why are you standing there? Tie them up!"

Yan Feicang grinned. "Right away!"

Lu Jianwei’s earlier instructions had been invaluable, especially the seemingly simple yet profoundly effective "press the blade down, then strike." Though he hadn’t fully grasped its intricacies, he sensed a breakthrough on the horizon, excitement surging through him like a tidal wave.

Sheathing his blade, he swiftly hauled the two men over his shoulders, tossed them into the courtyard, then dashed inside like a whirlwind.

"Hand them over to you all—I’m going into seclusion!"

Everyone: "..."

Jin Poxiao blinked in astonishment. "Is Brother Yan about to break through?"

Wen Zhuzhi smiled. "Seems so."

"Senior Yan is truly extraordinary," Tao Yang marveled. "To defeat two masters single-handedly..."

The others: ?

Wei Liu shot him a glare. "Clearly, it was Sister Lu’s brilliance that turned the tide."

"I—I didn’t mean it like that," Tao Yang stammered, flushing red. "I wouldn’t dare judge Innkeeper Lu’s prowess."

The others: That’s more like it!

Lu Jianwei’s flawless guidance from above had turned the battle with just a few words, allowing Yan Feicang to crush two formidable opponents—a feat worthy of awe. Such genius was beyond their comprehension.

Wen Zhuzhi’s lips curved slightly. "To think Innkeeper Lu is also a master of the blade. I am impressed."

"Young Master Wen pinpointed Hei Zhong’s weakness with precision. I’m the one who’s impressed," Lu Jianwei replied, having overheard from above.

This far exceeded the capabilities of a third-rank martial artist.

Wen Zhuzhi merely smiled in response.

"Innkeeper Lu may not know this, but Brother Wen possesses extraordinary talent in martial arts," Jin Poxiao explained, his tone tinged with regret. "If not for... he would already stand among the greatest masters of the jianghu."

Lu Jianwei said flatly, "What a pity."

Her tone was so indifferent it carried no hint of actual pity.

Jin Poxiao fell silent.

"Brother Jin, might I trouble you to assist me downstairs?" Wen Zhuzhi interjected, diffusing the awkwardness.

Jin Poxiao had no choice but to comply.

"Innkeeper, what should we do with these two?" Xue Guanhe called out loudly.

A porcelain vial landed in his arms.

"Feed them the Muscle-Softening Powder, then hang them from the second-floor eaves as a warning."

Yue Shu’s eyes lit up. "I’ll fetch the rope!"

Uncle Zhang chuckled. "I’ll handle the hanging."

Hei Zhong, still paralyzed but conscious, nearly fainted at the words.

Hei Hou, just regaining consciousness, spat another mouthful of blood upon hearing the plan.

This was outright humiliation!

Xue Guanhe forced the medicine down their throats, then casually patted their waistbands. "The Hei Fortress is supposed to be wealthy, right? Why don’t they have a single coin on them?"

He had hoped to confiscate their money.

Yue Shu returned with thick hemp rope and bound them like dumplings.

"Maybe they’re so broke they can’t even afford food. Why else would they come to steal the treasure map?"

"True." Xue Guanhe grinned. "Let’s leave them hanging for ten days or so—give those lurking in the shadows a good show. If they want money, they should earn it honestly."

Uncle Zhang sighed. "What a shame."

"What’s the shame, Uncle Zhang?"

"The innkeeper originally set their ransom at a thousand taels, but they refused. Now they’ve kicked an iron plate."

Xue Guanhe understood instantly. "They’re worth way more than a thousand!"

In her third-floor room, Lu Jianwei couldn’t suppress her grin.

"Xiao Ke, well done!"

The Hei brothers had been carrying over a thousand taels between them—all of which Xiao Ke had discreetly confiscated.

Big factions truly lived up to their name, traveling with such wealth.

Xiao Ke: "The public account currently holds over thirty thousand taels. Should we upgrade the attack equipment?"

The attack equipment was fifth-rank; upgrading to sixth-rank would cost ten thousand taels.

Lu Jianwei pondered. "Not for now."

The defensive equipment had been crucial this time, but enduring attacks from two sixth-rank warriors had drained it rapidly. A single strike consumed thousands of copper coins. Without the public funds, she wouldn’t have had the luxury or confidence to play the role of an untouchable expert.

The Hei brothers, arrogant as they were, had challenged the inn first. Now, strung up on display, they would serve as a stark warning to those watching from the shadows.

Those observers would likely hesitate before acting recklessly, choosing instead to enter the inn as ordinary guests to search for the treasure map.

But seasoned warriors wouldn’t resist testing the waters. To ensure the safety of everyone in the inn, the defensive equipment was indispensable.

For now, the public funds would be reserved for replenishing defensive reserves.

"Xiao Ke, assign Wei Liu to receive the protection of the defensive equipment."

"Huh? She didn’t pay."

Lu Jianwei waved a hand. "Just do it."

Xiao Ke sounded amused. "How rare."

"She shielded me before. It’s only fair I shield her once."

"Understood. Settings updated."

The sight of the Hei brothers dangling from the eaves struck like a thunderbolt, sending shockwaves through the hidden factions observing the scene.

Two sixth-rank experts had failed?

The Hei Fortress was in upheaval. Hei Hou and Hei Zhong were forces to be reckoned with individually, let alone together. Yet they had fallen to a mere inn?

If that weren’t bad enough, the inn had publicly humiliated them by hanging them up like trophies—a blatant slap to the Hei Fortress’s face.

Fury swept through the fortress, but with their men still in enemy hands, they had no choice but to swallow their rage—for now.

Fortress Lord Hei Zhan destroyed the training grounds in his wrath before summoning the fortress’s most even-tempered elder:

“Take the ransom money and go to the inn to retrieve our men,” the Fort Master ordered.

Third Elder hesitated. “Fort Master, should we also redeem the other disciples who took the poison?”

The Fort Master winced in pain but declared, “Redeem them all!”

Third Elder sighed. “There are sixty disciples. If we redeem each for eleven hundred taels, the total comes to sixty-six thousand taels. The two Young Masters might cost even more.”

“Wasn’t it a thousand taels each? Why the extra hundred?” the Fort Master frowned.

Third Elder explained, “The hundred is for the antidote.”

The Fort Master: “…”

Noticing his silence, Third Elder added, “I’ve heard the Thousand Miles Sect sent seventy men. Redeeming them would cost seventy-seven thousand taels.”

Misery loves company.

The Fort Master’s heartache eased slightly. With a wave of his hand, he said, “Go.”

The Eight Directions Inn returned to peace.

Seeing that even the two formidable experts couldn’t breach the inn, the three Mystic Mirror Envoys’ concerns faded. Seizing an opportunity, they sought out Yue Shu and Uncle Zhang to inquire about the details of that night.

The gray-robed envoy, Wang Xiaoshun, was responsible for recording their account. After hearing how they escaped the manor and took refuge in the inn, he couldn’t help but sigh deeply.

“You two have survived great peril—good fortune must await you.”

The words pleased them.

Yue Shu, filled with gratitude, said, “Meeting Innkeeper Lu was my luckiest moment.”

Uncle Zhang nodded. “Innkeeper Lu is kind and compassionate. Not only did she shelter us, but she also protected us.”

Had they fallen into the hands of other factions, they would have been skinned alive.

Despite the overwhelming siege, Innkeeper Lu had risked offending a powerful sect like the Black Wind Fort to keep them safe—a debt they could never repay.

“Did you come to Moonview City to seek refuge with Zhu Zhi?” asked the green-robed envoy Feng Yan.

Uncle Zhang affirmed, “Yes.”

“Why him?”

“Envoy Feng must know that Zhu Zhi is the elder cousin of A’Shu’s mother. With the manor destroyed and no leads on the killers, we had nowhere else to turn but to A’Shu’s uncle.”

Feng Yan nodded. The reason for seeking Zhu Zhi wasn’t important—what mattered was whether they had uncovered any clues.

“The killers wore masks and all wielded swords, but swordsmen are a dime a dozen in the martial world. We already knew these details. Think carefully—if you recall anything else from that night, inform me immediately.”

“Envoy Feng,” Yue Shu suddenly spoke up, “The innkeeper allowed you to question us. I trust her judgment.”

Feng Yan’s heart skipped a beat.

“Do you have a new lead?”

“I saw one of them holding a candlestick. He almost found my hiding spot, but the light revealed his face—he had a black mole on the white of his right eye.”

Feng Yan’s eyes lit up. “That’s a crucial lead!”

Such a distinctive feature was rare. He needed to relay this to the bureau at once.

But then it struck him—with spies swarming outside the inn, would a messenger pigeon even make it out of Moonview City?

What should he do?

After concluding the interrogation, Feng Yan led the two away from the servants’ quarters. Passing through the main hall, his gaze drifted to the courtyard—and his heart lurched.

A wheelchair stood in the yard, its occupant facing away. The man’s hair was tied back with a white jade crown, strands cascading down his back. His wide sleeves draped elegantly, and beside him rested a small red-clay stove, a teapot atop it releasing delicate wisps of steam.

The scene was serene, yet it unearthed a long-buried memory.

That silhouette…

“Young Master, look at those two—hanging on opposite sides, coarse-faced and wretched. Ugly beyond endurance.”

A’Nai pointed at the Hei brothers by the main building, hurling insults without restraint.

Earlier, the two had dared to provoke his master. He’d been itching to beat them to a pulp and scatter their ashes to the wind.

Seeing them humiliated like this—and knowing their infamy would spread—eased his anger, though he couldn’t resist verbally shredding them further.

“A’Nai, lower your voice. Don’t disturb the other guests,” Wen Zhuzhi chided gently.

Feng Yan shook his head. What was he thinking? Wen Zhuzhi was only a third-rank cultivator—and a cripple.

Stepping out, he asked casually, “Young Master Wen, enjoying the courtyard?”

“Ah.” Feng Yan cupped his hands. “The sun is quite pleasant indeed.”

A’Nai ignored him, continuing his tirade.

“Hanging them up there isn’t enough. For cowards who only know how to ambush, they ought to wear signs—one saying ‘Vile,’ the other ‘Shameless.’ Let the world know the Black Wind Fort breeds nothing but scum!”

“Oh, that’s a fine idea,” Lu Jianwei remarked, appearing at the third-floor railing. “A’Nai, go ask Yue Shu to make two plaques. Just as you said—‘Vile’ and ‘Shameless.’”

A’Nai beamed. “At once!”

“Wait.” Lu Jianwei stopped him. “First, weigh them. We’ll sell them by the pound—a hundred taels per pound. Whoever comes to redeem them pays accordingly. Make sure the plaques state that clearly.”

A’Nai’s eyes sparkled. “Innkeeper Lu, you’re a genius!”

He sprinted off to find Yue Shu, who was equally awed by the idea. For the Hei brothers, this humiliation would be worse than death.

The two quickly fashioned wooden plaques.

Jin Poxiao, catching wind of it, eagerly joined in. He volunteered to weigh the brothers and hang the signs.

Hei Hou’s plaque read:

**"VILE"**

Weight: 210 pounds

Price: 100 taels/pound

*Welcome, valued customers!*

Hei Zhong’s declared:

**"SHAMELESS"**

Weight: 200 pounds

*Terms as above.*

The brothers burned with shame, wishing they could dash their heads against the eaves and end it all.

The rest of the inn’s occupants stifled laughter.

Innkeeper Lu had outdone herself—this left the Black Wind Fort with neither face nor recourse. Redeeming the brothers would be a disgrace; leaving them would be worse.

Jin Poxiao chuckled. “Innkeeper Lu is truly one of a kind. Brother Wen, I’m tempted to stay here indefinitely. Mark my words—this place will never lack excitement.”

“Could you bear to abandon your trade empire?” Wen Zhuzhi teased.

Jin Poxiao pondered. “...Point taken.”

“Then why not linger after this affair concludes? You can relay any amusing incidents to me by letter.”

“Splendid idea! Though the room rates are steep.”

“That’s no issue.”

*Gurgle.* A’Nai clutched his stomach, embarrassed. “I barely ate at noon—I’m starving. Young Master, it’s all those two wretches’ fault, delaying our meal. I’ll borrow the kitchen to make some snacks.”

Wen Zhuzhi nodded. “Go ahead.”

After collaborating on the plaques, A’Nai and Yue Shu’s tension had eased. They no longer bickered when crossing paths.

Yue Shu said, “I checked with the innkeeper. You can use the kitchen, but there’s a rental fee.”

“Your innkeeper really loves money,” A’Nai grumbled, then brightened. “But selling them by weight? *That* was inspired! Fine, how much?”

Yue Shu rubbed his neck awkwardly. “You’ve got a sharp tongue yourself, A’Nai. The innkeeper said one hundred coppers per use, ingredients excluded.”

A’Nai: “…”

Highway robbery!