No Fighting Allowed in the Inn

When under someone else's roof, one must bow their head.

A'Nai dared to argue with Yue Shu and Xue Guanhe, but he couldn’t bring himself to confront Lu Jianwei with the same boldness.

He resigned himself and paid the money.

"What are you going to do?" Yue Shu asked curiously.

A'Nai swiftly began preparing the ingredients, his movements practiced and fluid.

"A nourishing tonic—though it’s a shame we’re missing one key herb."

He was making medicinal cuisine—light and restorative, infused with herbs to both strengthen the body and slow the spread of the poison afflicting his master.

Yue Shu despised those who had forcibly seized the treasure map, but he held no grudge against people like Jin Poxiao and Wen Zhuzhi, who dealt openly and fairly.

The heroic Jin Poxiao was straightforward and magnanimous, while the refined Wen Zhuzhi was gentle and unassuming—both were pleasant company.

Wen Zhuzhi, unable to walk and suffering from a rare poison, evoked a quiet sympathy within Yue Shu.

"Will missing one herb cause any harm?"

A'Nai shook his head. "Nothing major. It’s just that the poison torments my master day and night, making it hard for him to rest. I wanted to add a calming herb to help him sleep better."

"Poor sleep is unbearable." Yue Shu recalled his own restless nights during their desperate escape, haunted by nightmares. "Why don’t you ask the innkeeper? She might have the herb. If not, when the inn sends someone to Moonview City for supplies, they could purchase some for you."

A'Nai’s eyes lit up. "Really? But I’m a bit intimidated by Manager Lu. Could you ask for me? Price isn’t an issue."

"Of course." Yue Shu nodded. "What herb do you need?"

"The heart of the Zhaobi grass."

Yue Shu agreed and hurried off to find Lu Jianwei.

"Zhaobi grass?" Lu Jianwei arched a brow. "That’s a rare and expensive herb—30 taels per qian at the very least. Our Eight Directions Inn is remote, and sourcing such things isn’t easy. For him, we’ll charge 50 taels per qian."

Yue Shu: "..."

A single tonic required so much money? How much would three meals a day cost?

His mind buzzing, he returned to the kitchen and relayed Lu Jianwei’s answer.

Though A'Nai frowned, he said, "I’ll take six qian."

He pulled three hundred-tael banknotes from his sleeve. "This is for the herb. Please fetch it for me."

Yue Shu accepted the notes but couldn’t resist asking, "If your master spends like this every day, what happens when his fortune runs out?"

A'Nai burst out laughing. "What are you thinking? There’s no way my master could ever exhaust his wealth."

"Why not?"

A'Nai puffed up proudly. "Do you know how much the family’s assets were when my master took over, compared to now?"

"No."

"Of course you don’t. Let’s just say the family’s holdings have multiplied several times under his leadership. The daily profits from his businesses alone are beyond your imagination."

Yue Shu: "..."

Clearly, his own understanding was too limited.

If even A'Nai claimed it was unimaginable, then "earning mountains of gold" must be an understatement.

No wonder Wen Zhuzhi was the wealthiest man in Jiangnan.

Clutching the light yet weighty banknotes, he hurried upstairs to exchange them for the herb.

Lu Jianwei had already purchased six qian of Zhaobi grass from the system’s marketplace, stored in a wooden box. It had cost her 60 taels.

Such herbs were exorbitantly priced—only a man like the "wheelchair magnate" could afford them.

"Yue Shu." Lu Jianwei called out to the boy as he turned to leave with the box.

Yue Shu spun around, eyes bright. "Yes, Manager? Do you need something?"

"You’ve been getting along with Wen Zhuzhi’s attendant. Are you eyeing his wheelchair?"

Yue Shu’s face flushed scarlet. "I—I just thought the craftsmanship was exquisite. I wanted to take a closer look."

He had always been fascinated by handiwork, and the wheelchair was clearly a masterwork—ingeniously designed. The moment Wen Zhuzhi stepped out of the carriage, Yue Shu had been captivated.

Otherwise, knowing that Wen Zhuzhi and his men were also after the treasure map, he wouldn’t have personally delivered tea.

"It’s fine. If you want to study the wheelchair’s construction, just ask openly. I’m sure Wen Zhuzhi won’t mind," Lu Jianwei said with a gentle smile.

"Really?" Yue Shu’s eyes widened. "It wouldn’t be rude?"

Lu Jianwei was firm. "He’s not that petty."

In her eyes, Wen Zhuzhi wasn’t sensitive about his condition, nor did he care how others perceived him.

Yue Shu nodded. "I understand. Thank you, Manager."

"Oh, and remember—nothing in this world is free."

"Huh?" Yue Shu didn’t quite follow.

Lu Jianwei explained, "Think carefully. Do you just want to examine the wheelchair, or do you want to use this as a path forward?"

"...I see."

Lu Jianwei patted his head.

"Go on."

Lost in thought, Yue Shu carried the Zhaobi grass back to the kitchen, where the air was rich with delicate aromas.

"Six qian of Zhaobi grass, as requested."

A'Nai took the box and opened it. The herb inside was indeed genuine, and of excellent quality. He marveled, "Manager Lu is truly remarkable. She has everything."

From the rare White Silk Incense Screen to this Zhaobi grass—she produced them effortlessly.

It was strange.

Zhaobi grass wasn’t something ordinary people needed or stocked. How could she casually produce six qian?

"A'Nai, who crafted Master Wen’s wheelchair?" Yue Shu’s question pulled him from his musings.

A'Nai raised a brow. "Why do you ask?"

"I’ve always been fascinated by craftsmanship. That wheelchair is extraordinary—its movement, turning, everything is smoother and faster than ordinary ones, with almost no stiffness or delay."

A'Nai grinned. "That’s because my master made it himself. No master craftsman was involved."

Yue Shu gaped. "He made it? Master Wen is skilled in this too?"

"My master is naturally brilliant. Though the poison prevents his martial arts from advancing, he never gave up. He turned to studying the esoteric arts of Qimen Dunjia, which includes mechanical engineering. He incorporated intricate mechanisms into the wheelchair, making it unlike any other."

At this, Yue Shu’s pity and sympathy vanished, replaced by pure admiration and yearning.

So the mechanics of Qimen Dunjia could be applied to craftsmanship too.

He wanted to learn it!

"Master Wen is incredible," he murmured.

A'Nai loved hearing others praise his master and beamed. "Finally, someone with taste!"

Yue Shu’s heart itched with excitement. He had found his calling—he wanted to study Qimen Dunjia, to master mechanical engineering. Never before had he felt such a powerful urge.

But Master Wen was a stranger. How could he possibly ask?

A'Nai was busy with the tonic, so Yue Shu excused himself and returned to his room to meditate and train.

Yet his mind was restless, unable to settle. Thoughts swirled chaotically, leaving him in turmoil.

"Yue Shu!"

A voice like thunder jolted him awake. He shuddered violently.

Uncle Zhang looked worried. "If I hadn’t snapped you out of it, you might’ve succumbed to Qi deviation. What’s wrong?"

After the destruction of their home, the two had relied on each other. In Yue Shu’s eyes, Uncle Zhang was family—he should’ve confided in him without hesitation. But now, the words caught in his throat.

Uncle Zhang pressed gently, "Yue Shu, whatever it is, say it. We’ll figure it out together."

"Uncle Zhang," Yue Shu finally whispered, unable to meet his gaze, "I don’t want to practice the sword anymore. No matter how hard I try, I’ll never master it."

Zhang Bo spoke earnestly, “Then what do you want to do in the future? Become a carpenter? Ah Shu, Innkeeper Lu is kind enough to take us in and offer us shelter. Don’t you want to contribute to the inn after mastering martial arts?”

“…”

“Of course, Innkeeper Lu wouldn’t drive us away because of this. We could just remain ordinary inn workers. But as more and more people flock to her side, all vying to earn her trust and favor, will you be content then?”

If Uncle Zhang was Yue Shu’s closest family, then Lu Jianwei was the person he revered most.

The mere thought of such a scene filled Yue Shu’s heart with intense unease and dejection.

He didn’t want to see the innkeeper’s disappointed expression, nor was he willing to settle for being just an ordinary worker.

Recalling Lu Jianwei’s earlier advice, he suddenly felt enlightened.

So that’s what the innkeeper meant!

Yue Shu abruptly raised his head and excitedly recounted the whole matter to Uncle Zhang before concluding, “I understand now. The innkeeper had already noticed Young Master Wen’s expertise in esoteric arts. She was giving me a choice.”

“What choice?” Uncle Zhang asked with a smile.

Yue Shu’s eyes shone brightly. “To choose between an unknown treasure map or the esoteric arts right before my eyes.”

Uncle Zhang nodded approvingly. “So, what’s your decision?”

“I’ve made up my mind,” Yue Shu said firmly. “When my father was alive, he forced me to practice swordsmanship and forbade me from studying craftsmanship. Yet there was an old book, *The Annotated Works of Craftsmanship*, in his study. I secretly read it, but he never once noticed. That doesn’t make sense.”

Uncle Zhang stroked his beard and chuckled.

“That book must be extraordinary,” Yue Shu continued. “But no matter how special it was, it brought destruction to our manor. I can’t unravel its secrets, nor can I protect it.”

“So?”

Yue Shu clenched his fists. “I choose the path I truly desire.”

——

In the common dormitory room,

A'Nai entered carrying a bowl of nourishing soup. As he lifted the lid, the rich aroma instantly filled the room, overpowering the faint scent of incense.

“Young Master, you only ate a single leaf of vegetables at noon. I added some noodles to the soup—please try it.”

“Hmm.” Wen Zhuzhi set aside his book, took the jade chopsticks, and took a small sip. “Your cooking has improved.”

A'Nai beamed with joy. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Did you buy the Zhaobi Grass from Innkeeper Lu?”

“Yes, six qian’s worth, for three hundred taels. Innkeeper Lu really knows how to do business.”

Wen Zhuzhi chuckled. “You must have many questions in your heart, don’t you?”

“Nothing escapes you, Young Master,” A'Nai admitted, puzzled. “Whether it’s the White Silk Fragrant Screen or the Zhaobi Grass, why is Innkeeper Lu always able to produce them so easily?”

Wen Zhuzhi drank his soup leisurely.

“When Brother Yan suddenly came to challenge her, Innkeeper Lu effortlessly pointed out his flaws. Lv Hudie’s poison insects were unstoppable, yet Innkeeper Lu detected them immediately. Her medicinal concoctions suppress internal energy, yet no one in the martial world can counter them. What does that tell you?”

“It means…” A'Nai frowned in thought before suddenly realizing, “It means Innkeeper Lu’s martial arts are unfathomable, and she’s also highly skilled in pharmacology.”

With such extraordinary abilities, she could easily amass wealth and connections with powerful figures. With money and influence, why worry about not obtaining the finest tea leaves?

Her expertise in pharmacology meant she would always have medicinal herbs on hand—so having Zhaobi Grass was no surprise.

Wen Zhuzhi nodded. “That is indeed one possibility.”

“What else could it be?” A'Nai pressed.

“The Eight Directions Inn’s influence is far greater than it appears. They possess intelligence on many martial artists—Brother Yan’s weaknesses, the flaws of the Black Wind Fort brothers, even my daily needs. They know everything and prepare accordingly.”

A'Nai gasped. “That’s terrifying!”

“Rumors outside speculate that the inn repelled a hundred attackers in one move using mysterious arts,” Wen Zhuzhi mused, a rare hint of confusion crossing his face. “Yet standing here, I’ve seen no trace of it.”

“Your mastery of the esoteric arts is unmatched in the martial world. If not for that, all those rare treasures in our mansion would’ve been stolen long ago by shameless rogues.”

The residence of the wealthiest man in Jiangnan had attracted countless greedy thieves. Wen Zhuzhi, a seemingly feeble cripple, was no threat in their eyes.

Yet one after another, those who sought to claim his riches found themselves trapped in deadly formations and mechanisms, with countless casualties.

Gradually, no one dared to provoke Wen Zhuzhi anymore.

But now, even he couldn’t detect any “esoteric formations” in the inn—making it all the more enigmatic.

A'Nai muttered, “If someone truly this formidable exists, why would they open an inn in such a remote place?”

Wen Zhuzhi set down his bowl and chopsticks, dipped a handkerchief in water, and wiped his lips before uttering a chilling remark.

“A'Nai, the entire inn is under Innkeeper Lu’s control. It’s possible she already knows every word we’ve spoken.”

A'Nai instantly felt a cold shiver down his spine.

——

In a third-floor room,

Lu Jianwei’s hand, holding an acupuncture needle, paused mid-motion.

She had been practicing on a human model, fully focused, yet she couldn’t afford to ignore Wen Zhuzhi and A'Nai’s conversations—this man demanded caution.

Hearing his words, even she was startled.

*Is this the insight of the richest man in Jiangnan?*

Earlier, she had hinted to Yue Shu because she had “seen” the books Wen Zhuzhi brought—most of them related to esoteric arts.

She had even spent a small fortune to have Xiao Ke analyze his wheelchair, discovering intricate mechanisms hidden within.

She had reason to suspect Wen Zhuzhi came prepared.

While others were obsessed with stealing the treasure map, he had thoroughly analyzed White Crane Manor and deduced Yue Shu’s passion for craftsmanship.

His wheelchair and books were bait.

And Yue Shu was the fish.

Lu Jianwei didn’t dislike this approach—at least Wen Zhuzhi had principles and sincerity, unlike those who resorted to outright theft.

But she hadn’t expected him to be so perceptive.

“Xiao Ke, what’s his actual level?”

Xiao Ke replied, “The system’s assessment isn’t wrong. Level three is indeed his current rank.”

Lu Jianwei fell into thought.

“Scan the poison in his body.”

“That’ll cost a hundred taels.”

Without hesitation, she said, “Deduct it.”

After the deduction, Xiao Ke took its time before slowly announcing, “He doesn’t have just one poison in his body—there are five. These five poisons counteract each other, maintaining an eerie equilibrium, all suppressed below the Yinlingquan acupoint on his calves. That’s why he can’t walk.”

A pang of sympathy flickered in Lu Jianwei’s heart.

“That’s tragic. What kind of poisons are they?”

“All five are rare, deadly poisons. Over time, they’ve fused into a new toxin. Honestly… I don’t even know what to call it.”

Lu Jianwei: “…”

If she didn’t even know what the poison was, how could she possibly find an antidote?

“So, he’s just waiting to die?”

“Mm. By all logic, he shouldn’t live much longer.”

Lu Jianwei sighed again. “Harsh.”

But that was all. She was just an ordinary innkeeper, after all.

——

Time flew, and soon it was dinnertime.

Apart from Wen Zhuzhi and A'Nai, everyone else gathered around the long table.

Feng Yan’s wallet ached, but he dared not trouble Xue Guanhe again or stand out in the inn.

If the disciples of Carefree Mountain Manor could eat together, why couldn’t the Mystic Mirror Bureau?

He paid for his meals, yet couldn’t enjoy them to the fullest.

The three of them spent the entire afternoon discussing but failed to come up with a way to send out the message.

Outside the inn, who knew how many pairs of eyes were watching? The moment they stepped out, they’d likely be ambushed by rogue martial artists.

The crucial clue couldn’t be delivered—it was utterly maddening.

After dinner, Lu Jianwei strolled in the courtyard to aid digestion.

Feng Yan paced under the corridor for a long while before finally mustering his resolve as she turned to return to her room.

“Innkeeper Lu, Feng has a request. If successful, the reward will not disappoint.”

Lu Jianwei loved nothing more than people handing her money, but this time, she couldn’t guarantee she’d earn it.

Pretending ignorance, she asked, “What is it?”

“May we speak privately?”

“No need. Speak freely.”

Feng Yan had no choice but to explain, “I need to send a letter, but with so many eyes watching outside the inn, it’s unlikely to reach its destination. Might Innkeeper Lu be willing to assist?”

For the sake of money, Lu Jianwei naturally didn’t want to refuse, but she couldn’t offer any guarantees either.

Feng Yan, believing her to have extensive backing that would increase the chances of the letter’s safe delivery, had come to strike a deal with her.

She replied coolly, “I only handle matters pertaining to the inn.”

Feng Yan was disappointed but hid it well, merely clasping his hands. “My apologies for disturbing you.”

“Officer Feng,” Lu Jianwei said casually, “surely the Mystic Mirror Bureau has coded language for communication?”

They couldn’t possibly rely solely on carrier pigeons, could they?

Feng Yan smiled bitterly. “We do, but the coded messages still need to be seen by the right people.”

“Have you even tried?”

“Even if there are Bureau agents nearby, writing in code requires a special ink. The writing appears ordinary until treated with a unique powder only the Bureau possesses.”

Feng Yan frowned. “I’ve nearly run out of the ink. Even if I could write the message, there’s no guarantee my colleagues would receive it.”

“So only Mystic Mirror agents can recognize this special ink?”

“Not exactly,” Feng Yan shook his head. “Martial artists despise the Bureau and love causing trouble for us. They often intercept our letters, so some among them must recognize the ink.”

At the very least, the major sects were familiar with it.

Lu Jianwei understood. “And the special powder?”

“Only the Bureau has it.”

Lu Jianwei nodded. “I have a solution, if you’re willing.”

After all, making deals with people still fell under “inn matters.”

Feng Yan brightened. “I’m all ears.”

Lu Jianwei said, “There are about seventy or eighty spies lurking outside the inn, gathering intelligence and blocking other factions from entering. That’s your concern, isn’t it?”

“Exactly.”

Lu Jianwei smiled. “Then it’s simple. Write five hundred identical coded messages and scatter them outside. In the chaos of everyone scrambling for them, at least one will reach the Mystic Mirror Bureau.”

Feng Yan’s eyes lit up—it was indeed a feasible plan. But he didn’t have enough ink for five hundred messages.

“If you trust me, you can provide a sample of the ink. I might be able to help,” Lu Jianwei offered with a smile. “Of course, the price won’t be cheap. When you write the messages, make sure your colleagues bring payment.”

Feng Yan: “…”

Truthfully, he was skeptical.

The ink was a Bureau specialty. Even the major sects could only identify it, not replicate it. The Eight Directions Inn was indeed mysterious, but could it truly produce the ink?

If so, wouldn’t the Bureau’s communications lose all secrecy?

Lu Jianwei didn’t press him. “The solution is yours to take or leave.”

What ulterior motives could she possibly have?

She just wanted to make a little profit.

Feng Yan snapped out of his thoughts. “Innkeeper Lu, if I provide a sample, can you really procure the ink?”

Lu Jianwei raised a brow. “I can try.”

Feng Yan: “Then we have a deal.”

He’d been overthinking it.

The Bureau’s ink was no secret—the major sects had long sought to crack it. Providing a sample wouldn’t harm the Bureau.

If Lu Jianwei failed to replicate it, the ink remained secure. If she succeeded but lacked the powder, the messages would still be unreadable, giving the Bureau a new lead instead.

Who, after all, could easily replicate such ink?

He produced a small vial.

Lu Jianwei took it and headed straight to the third floor.

In this era, people typically used inksticks, grinding them into liquid for writing. The Bureau, however, issued pre-made ink to its agents—clearly a security measure.

Carrying ink was inconvenient, so agents only brought small amounts for urgent, brief messages.

Five hundred messages would be a massive undertaking.

The system’s marketplace sold high-quality inksticks, but this special ink wasn’t in its database—it needed a sample to scan.

“Xiao Ke, what exactly is this ink?”

“Ordinary ink mixed with a special plant extract. It looks normal on paper but changes color when exposed to another substance.”

Lu Jianwei asked, “Is it really that hard to crack?”

“That, I don’t know.” Xiao Ke countered, “Why are you helping him?”

Lu Jianwei: “For money, and to see the truth come out. Of all these factions, the Mystic Mirror Bureau is the only one dedicated to uncovering the truth.”

If she could earn money while doing a good deed, why not?

Xiao Ke: “Aren’t you afraid of making enemies?”

Lu Jianwei chuckled. “If I feared offending people, would I have hung those two from the eaves? Just tell me—can the marketplace sell this?”

“See for yourself.”

Lu Jianwei browsed the listings and found “Confidential Ink” priced at… ten taels per bottle.

“Highway robbery!”

Xiao Ke sniffed. “Takes one to know one. The plant extract is rare and costly.”

Lu Jianwei: “I’ve always wondered—what exactly are you? How are the marketplace’s products made?”

“Don’t be sad,” Xiao Ke sighed. “It’s normal for lower-dimensional beings to struggle with higher-dimensional concepts.”

Lu Jianwei nodded. “I’m not sad. I just don’t get why a ‘higher-dimensional world’ lacking management talent would force a ‘lower-dimensional being’ like me to run an inn.”

Xiao Ke: “…”

“You dragged me into this world without warning, and now you’re draining my funds. Does your higher-dimensional world not have laws?”

“…”

Lu Jianwei spread her hands. “So, lower the price.”

She still needed to save up for a way home!

Xiao Ke reluctantly conceded, “Eight taels. Not a coin less. I need energy too, or I won’t be able to send you back.”

“Fine,” Lu Jianwei relented. “Eight it is. May we both prosper.”

Under the cover of night, Lu Jianwei prepared the special ink, regular ink, paper, and brushes, intending to deliver them to Feng Yan for an all-night writing session.

“A level-six martial artist is approaching,” Xiao Ke warned.

Lu Jianwei checked the map—two green dots had appeared just beyond the courtyard.