The three of them froze simultaneously, speaking in unison:
"I didn’t touch you!"
After saying this, they glanced toward the door, relieved not to see Lu Jianwei’s figure.
At this critical juncture, they dared not act rashly, fearing their efforts would be wasted halfway.
According to the intelligence, the treasure map was hidden inside a book—a book Yue Shu had coincidentally taken away from the villa.
Their eyes locked onto *The Annotations of Construction*.
A'Nai raised his brows smugly and handed the book to Wen Zhuzhi.
"Young Master, take a look. See if there’s a treasure map inside."
Wen Zhuzhi accepted it, flipping open the first page as their gazes clung to it.
"It’s just an ordinary book. Doesn’t seem like there’s a treasure map stuffed inside," Jin Poxiao muttered, bending down for a closer look. "The book’s practically falling apart. If there was one, it would’ve been found by now."
The content was indeed about construction methods—dry, tedious, and utterly unreadable.
Not just him, but Lan Ling, Song Xian, and Chai Kun were also dizzy from skimming through it.
What kind of nonsense was this?!
After a few moments, Wen Zhuzhi turned to the second page.
Then the third, the fourth… all the way to the tenth.
"Half an incense stick’s worth of time is up. Everyone, please leave the room," Yue Shu reminded them from outside the door.
The three who hadn’t gotten their hands on the book: "…"
A hundred taels of silver wasted!
No wonder Yue Shu had mentioned they could only do this once a day—he’d known from the start that one attempt wouldn’t be enough for them to search thoroughly.
They couldn’t discern anything special about *The Annotations of Construction*, but they still needed to memorize it to report back.
Rumors claimed this book was the final masterpiece of a craftsman from the previous dynasty, the only one of its kind in existence.
If they couldn’t find a second copy or obtain the first, their only option was to commit it to memory, transcribe it later, and seek out experts to decipher any hidden codes.
If there truly was a cipher leading to a legendary treasure, their trip wouldn’t have been in vain.
With this resolve, the three left the room, each harboring their own thoughts.
A'Nai pushed Wen Zhuzhi’s wheelchair back to their shared quarters, whispering, "Young Master, did you figure it out?"
Wen Zhuzhi replied calmly, "I’ve only seen the first ten pages. I’ll need to read the entire book to know for sure."
The book had fifty sheets—a hundred pages in total. With only half an incense stick’s time each session, it would take several attempts to memorize it all.
"If only the treasure really had that miraculous medicine," A'Nai mumbled under his breath, fetching a warming pouch and pressing it into Wen Zhuzhi’s hands. "You got a little wet in the courtyard earlier, Young Master. Should I fetch you a change of clothes?"
Outside, the wind howled and rain pattered relentlessly. Moving from the main building to their quarters had inevitably left them damp. A'Nai didn’t mind for himself, but he worried Wen Zhuzhi might catch a chill.
"That would be best," Wen Zhuzhi agreed, maneuvering his wheelchair into the inner chamber.
A'Nai asked, "With no sun today, Young Master, would you prefer to read or rest?"
"Play chess."
"Right away!"
A'Nai retrieved the chessboard from a wooden chest, setting it on the table before opening the lacquered box to reveal the pieces.
The white stones, carved from flawless mutton-fat jade, were smooth and lustrous, while the black ones, made of deep onyx, were dense and ink-dark—both of the highest quality.
This chess set alone was worth a fortune.
Wen Zhuzhi changed his clothes and settled at the table, playing against himself.
A'Nai, accustomed to this sight, initially paid no mind—until he noticed something strange.
Normally, when the Young Master played left hand against right, the match would be fierce and fraught with peril. Yet now, the game seemed almost leisurely.
He blinked, on the verge of asking, when a pale, slender hand placed another piece.
The board’s formation shifted abruptly.
A'Nai’s eyes widened in shock, barely suppressing a gasp as amazement flickered in his gaze.
This wasn’t just chess—it was a directional formation!
Though no expert in the esoteric arts, years spent by Wen Zhuzhi’s side had given him enough insight to recognize the signs.
Had the Young Master deciphered *The Annotations of Construction*?
"A'Nai, ink and paper."
A'Nai hurried to prepare them, watching in awe as a series of mechanical annotations took shape on the page.
The Young Master was truly incredible!
From just ten pages, he’d uncovered so much!
Not daring to speak aloud—lest eavesdroppers overhear—he resorted to animated gestures instead.
Wen Zhuzhi chuckled softly and nodded.
*The Annotations of Construction* was no ordinary book. On the surface, it appeared to be a craftsman’s notes, but it concealed intricate mysteries only a master of esoteric arts could unravel.
The first ten pages detailed the treasure’s exact location and the first lethal trap awaiting intruders.
A'Nai was both thrilled and terrified.
The study of mystic formations was already a niche field, with few possessing the talent or dedication to master it. True experts were rare in the martial world.
Apart from the Young Master, no one in the inn understood formations—meaning they alone could decode the book’s secrets.
Their odds of success were high.
Meanwhile, Lan Ling, Chai Kun, and Song Xian returned to their rooms, deliberating before deciding to take turns visiting the study tomorrow.
Today’s scuffle had been fruitless—all their efforts thwarted by a cripple. Resentment simmered, but the inn’s rules forbade outright theft, leaving them no choice but to crane their necks for glimpses of the book.
Yet Wen Zhuzhi turned the pages too quickly. Before they could finish one, he’d moved to the next, leaving their memories frustratingly incomplete.
Competing among themselves only harmed their chances. They resolved to rely on their own skills to decode the book—whoever succeeded first would claim the treasure.
Downstairs in the main hall, Lu Jianwei finally finished poring over basic medical texts.
New insights stirred in her mind, itching for practical application—she longed to step out and test her skills on someone.
But she restrained herself.
Reason reminded her she still had much to learn; overconfidence would be her downfall.
As she opened the system shop to purchase advanced texts, a silver note appeared before her.
"Innkeeper, this hundred tael note is for you," Yue Shu said, eyes sparkling with sincerity.
Lu Jianwei was puzzled. "Why give it to me?"
"Earlier, Miss Lan, Elder Chai, Master Song, and Young Master Jin all paid up. I thought to split it—one for you, Uncle Zhang, Brother Xue, and myself."
It was, after all, pure profit—no reason to hold back.
Lu Jianwei understood his intent. This was his first earnings, and he wished to share the joy with those closest to him. She accepted it with a smile.
"Thank you, A'Yue."
Yue Shu beamed. "No need for thanks, Innkeeper."
Without her authority keeping the others in check, they’d never have parted with their silver so easily.
The rain persisted all day, but by dusk, the clouds dispersed, revealing a crystalline sky awash in twilight hues.
With newfound purpose, the guests ceased their mischief, each retreating to their rooms to meditate and train.
Peace returned to the Eight Directions Inn, inside and out.
Lu Jianwei carried a rattan chair to the third-floor balcony, savoring the breathtaking scenery.
Her system map showed dozens still lurking beyond the inn’s walls, while the martial artists camped five miles away had taken a rainy-day break, vanishing to who-knew-where.
Further out, twenty miles distant, Moonview City teemed with life, its countless green dots bustling in vibrant prosperity.
A twinge of longing struck her.
Months had passed since her arrival, yet she’d never once stepped beyond the inn’s courtyard.
At first, her low level and the desolate surroundings offered little incentive to venture out.
Now, despite her growth, the wolves at her door made the inn her unassailable fortress. She remained trapped within.
How she wished this ordeal would end—for the martial artists to vanish, leaving her free to roam the sprawling twenty miles beyond her doorstep.
Her mastery of Qinggong had progressed to the third form, but she hadn’t yet found the opportunity to practice properly—merely hopping around her room was hardly sufficient.
She also wanted to visit the market in Moonview City.
Lu Jianwei casually scrolled through the map when suddenly, three glowing dots caught her attention.
These dots had previously overlapped with the spies lurking in the shadows, making them difficult to notice. Now that they had moved beyond the spies' encirclement, they stood out starkly.
Anyone arriving from Moonview City at this hour likely wasn’t well-informed about the jianghu.
Within moments, the three dots halted outside the courtyard gate.
Due to special circumstances, the inn’s gate remained tightly shut, no longer open to guests as it once had been.
Someone outside knocked cautiously, their voice hoarse as they called, “Is anyone there?”
It was Niu Qiang, driving an ox cart with two others in tow.
Uncle Zhang went to open the gate and asked, “Young Niu, what brings you here at this hour?”
Niu Qiang looked disheveled and weary, his face etched with distress. Just as he was about to speak, another man—his cousin Niu Shan—hurriedly stumbled off the cart, nearly tripping into the mud. Instead of righting himself, he dropped to his knees before Uncle Zhang.
“Great Hero Zhang, I beg you—save my son!”
Uncle Zhang was taken aback. He sidestepped slightly and asked, “What’s happened?”
“Great Hero Zhang,” Niu Qiang quickly explained, “this is my cousin, Niu Shan. His son fell ill two days ago for no apparent reason. Yesterday, we took him to a physician in the city, but the old doctor said he’d been poisoned… and struck by some rogue martial artist. He couldn’t treat the boy. The only hope was to find a great hero who might be able to help, but…”
He trailed off, wiping away tears, while Niu Shan sobbed quietly.
For ordinary folk, where could they possibly find such a hero?
If not for Niu Qiang’s connection to the Eight Directions Inn, they would have been left with no choice but to wait for death. Even then, the presence of jianghu figures at the inn didn’t guarantee the boy’s survival.
Uncle Zhang glanced toward the ox cart.
Lying on the wooden plank was a child of seven or eight, his eyes shut, his face pale with a sickly green tint, lips tinged purple—clear signs of poisoning.
But the inn had no physician.
Martial artists weren’t omniscient; curing poison required expertise in medicine, something only specialists like the physicians of Divine Doctor Valley devoted themselves to.
With the inn currently teeming with factions of uncertain allegiance, allowing Niu Qiang and his companions inside might do more harm than good.
Yet, the child’s life hung in the balance.
With a quiet sigh, Uncle Zhang recalled the medicinal and toxic pills Lu Jianwei had once produced. “I’ll ask the innkeeper,” he said.
“Thank you, Great Hero Zhang!” Both Niu Qiang and Niu Shan kowtowed in gratitude.
Uncle Zhang closed the gate, then turned to see Lu Jianwei nodding at him.
Remembering how she had taken him and Yue Shu in without hesitation, he felt a surge of gratitude.
Hesitantly, he asked, “Innkeeper, how should we accommodate these three?”
“There’s an empty room in the servants’ quarters. Let them stay there.”
Lu Jianwei couldn’t bear to let a young life slip away and saw this as a chance to test her medical skills.
If the old physician claimed only a jianghu figure could save the boy, she might as well seize the opportunity—for both the child’s sake and her own. Even if she failed, the inn was full of seasoned martial artists who might know renowned physicians. There was still hope.
Uncle Zhang acknowledged her instructions and reopened the gate. Under the brothers’ tearful gazes, he led them inside, where they carried the child to the servants’ quarters.
The boy was laid on the bed, his breathing shallow and uneven, his condition dire.
Xue Guanhe and Yue Shu came to see for themselves, their faces twisted with sympathy.
What kind of heartless martial artist would harm a child like this?
“Leave for now,” Lu Jianwei instructed.
Only then did Niu Shan look up at her. Stunned by her youthful beauty, he froze in uncertainty.
“Brother, this is Innkeeper Lu,” Niu Qiang whispered, pulling him out of the room. “The same formidable Innkeeper Lu I told you about.”
Having ties to Yuelai Restaurant and being questioned by Xue Guanhe’s father about the inn, Niu Qiang had learned that the Xue heir had become Lu Jianwei’s disciple.
Even a seasoned warrior like Uncle Zhang deferred to her—proof of her prestige and skill.
Appearances meant nothing.
Niu Shan gaped. “But you never mentioned Innkeeper Lu was a young woman.”
“Does it matter if she’s a man or a woman?” Niu Qiang retorted.
Niu Shan paused, then shook his head vehemently. “No, it doesn’t.”
Nothing mattered except saving his son.
The servants’ quarters were cramped—just a bed, a small chest, and no table to speak of.
The brothers had braved the rain to get here. Though the ox cart had no cover, the child’s clothes were completely dry, a testament to how fiercely Niu Shan had shielded him.
Lu Jianwei sat at the bedside and took the boy’s pulse.
She had never diagnosed anyone before, but the human anatomical model provided by her system could simulate various ailments—including pulse patterns. So far, her diagnostic accuracy exceeded ninety percent.
That was why she had agreed to help. A life wasn’t something to gamble with.
The child’s pulse was faint, as if he might stop breathing at any moment. A slice of ginseng tucked under his tongue barely sustained him.
Yet even ginseng could only slow the fading of life. To save him, the poison had to be neutralized.
Beyond the toxin, the boy had been struck by a martial artist’s internal energy. His young, untrained meridians couldn’t withstand it.
Even if the poison were cured, the lingering energy would torment him until his meridians ruptured.
After examining the boy’s eyes, nose, and lips, Lu Jianwei reached her conclusion.
“He’s been poisoned with ‘Beauty’s Envy.’ The primary toxin is extracted from ironheart vine leaves. Legend says it was created by a poison master to punish her unfaithful husband and his lover. The Divine Doctor Valley later devised an antidote. Right, Xiao Ke?”
The medical texts she studied often cited origins for techniques, prescriptions, and poisons.
Xiao Ke: “…Correct.”
When it had first “encouraged” Lu Jianwei to study medicine, it never expected her to learn this swiftly.
“That’s all you have to say?” Lu Jianwei teased. “Feeling overshadowed by my brilliance? Understandable. I am, after all, both a savvy entrepreneur and a healer.”
If it had a physical form, Xiao Ke would have rolled its eyes skyward.
It sniffed. “Since you can identify the poison, you can make the antidote yourself.”
“Don’t you want to profit from me anymore?” Lu Jianwei feigned surprise.
Xiao Ke: “You’ll have to buy the ingredients regardless.”
“The finished antidote costs far more than raw herbs.” As she spoke, Lu Jianwei purchased the necessary ingredients from the system shop without blinking—ten taels spent in an instant.
With thirty thousand taels to her name, ten was a trivial expense.
Xiao Ke ignored her jest and instead asked, “If you’re such a quick learner, why couldn’t you even afford a house before I bound to you?”
Lu Jianwei: “…”
A direct hit to the sore spot.
Brushing off the jab, she opened the door. The brothers surged forward like anxious relatives outside an operating room.
“Innkeeper Lu, how is Xiao Xi?”
Lu Jianwei summoned Uncle Zhang. “Bring me paper and ink. I’ll write a prescription.”
Uncle Zhang hurried to comply.
To better adapt to ancient times, Lu Jianwei had practiced calligraphy after her transmigration. While the elegance of her brushstrokes might still be debatable, at least her handwriting was neat and presentable.
She swiftly wrote out the prescription and handed it to Uncle Zhang.
"Retrieve the herbs from the storeroom according to this prescription and brew the medicine for him."
She had purchased detoxifying herbs from the system’s shop, along with some common medicinal ingredients, and mixed them into the storeroom’s inventory to avoid arousing suspicion.
The Niu brothers were overjoyed and immediately knelt, kowtowing in gratitude.
However, Uncle Zhang looked embarrassed. "Manager, I don’t recognize these herbs."
Lu Jianwei: "..."
She had forgotten about that.
Yue Shu, standing nearby, spoke up. "Manager, perhaps I can ask A'Nai for help? He often prepares medicinal meals for Young Master Wen and knows a bit about herbs."
No one expected Lu Jianwei to fetch the herbs herself—that would be beneath her status as a revered senior. If even such trivial tasks had to be handled by the innkeeper, what was the point of having staff?
Lu Jianwei could only nod in agreement.
It seemed that when hiring new staff in the future, she would need someone knowledgeable in medicine—otherwise, when the time came to delegate tasks, there’d be no one capable.
But then again, those truly proficient in medicine wouldn’t work as inn staff.
A'Nai didn’t refuse. When he arrived, he took the prescription and paused briefly, his expression shifting to surprise. "This... is a remedy for *Qunfang Du* poison?"
"You’ve seen it before?" Lu Jianwei asked with a faint smile.
A'Nai nodded. "I once accompanied my master to gather herbs and encountered someone poisoned by *Qunfang Du*. I also saw the antidote prescription, but..."
But this prescription was considered a closely guarded secret of the Divine Physician Valley. Apart from the poison’s creator, only the Valley possessed the antidote.
His chance glimpse of it had been pure coincidence.
The prescription in his hand, its ink still fresh, had clearly been written just moments ago—not an old formula.
Just who was Manager Lu?
The familiar confusion resurfaced in his mind.
Still, a life was at stake. He didn’t dwell on it and followed Yue Shu to the underground storeroom.
"Manager Lu, will Xiao Xi survive if he takes the medicine?" Niu Qiang summoned his courage to ask. "I heard from the old physician that Xiao Xi wasn’t just poisoned—he was also struck by a martial artist’s internal force. The doctor said he couldn’t treat it."
Lu Jianwei nodded. "There’s a destructive internal force wreaking havoc in his body. Let’s not rush—first, neutralize the poison."
"Thank you, Manager Lu!" Niu Shan’s tears wouldn’t stop. "You’re our family’s great benefactor! I don’t know how to repay you. If you don’t mind, I’ll work as a servant here, without pay—"
Lu Jianwei’s voice boomed: "Absolutely not!"
She had no intention of feeding an extra mouth for free.
Everyone: ???
"There’s no need for that," Lu Jianwei coughed lightly, adopting a righteous tone. "Even if Xiao Xi wakes up, his body will need years of recovery. If you don’t work, how will you raise him?"
Niu Shan was deeply moved and prostrated himself again.
The martial artists he knew all acted high and mighty, treating commoners like ants.
Yet Manager Lu not only saved Xiao Xi but even considered their livelihood—such kindness was rare.
Lu Jianwei frowned. *Would they skip out on paying for the medicine?*
Fortunately, Niu Qiang was more tactful. "Manager Lu, how much does the antidote cost?"
Seeing their ragged state, Lu Jianwei’s rare compassion surfaced, and she quoted the base price: "Ten taels."
She wouldn’t profit, but gaining practical experience wasn’t a loss.
Niu Shan hastily said, "I don’t have that much on me. May I return home to fetch it?"
Even if he had to sell his land, he would gather the lifesaving sum.
"It’s late. Go back tomorrow." With those words, Lu Jianwei turned and returned to her room.
The medicine still needed brewing, and Xiao Xi’s internal injuries couldn’t be ignored.
A martial artist’s internal force was inherently destructive. Xiao Xi’s organs had already suffered damage from the poison, leaving them fragile. Worse, the lingering internal force remained in his meridians, unexpelled.
If a martial artist were struck by internal force, an equal-level force could barely resist it. If their cultivation surpassed the attacker’s, they could expel it themselves.
But if their internal force was weaker, the injury would worsen. Unless neutralized, the foreign force would linger, damaging meridians and even the dantian.
Either suppress it with medicine or become a cripple.
For Xiao Xi—a child without martial arts—death was the only outcome.
Lu Jianwei frowned in thought. "Xiao Ke, you mentioned before that my technique can absorb others’ internal force. Can I use it to dissolve the force in Xiao Xi’s meridians?"
"I never said that," Xiao Ke refused responsibility. "It was all your own speculation."
Lu Jianwei chuckled. *Not denying it is as good as admitting.*
"Don’t blame me if I didn’t warn you—reckless action invites backlash," Xiao Ke added, a hint of concern in its tone.
Lu Jianwei: "I won’t abandon eating for fear of choking."
She needed to level up quickly. Relying solely on conventional training, even with top-tier talent, would take years to reach first-rate mastery.
Take Yan Feicang—though only thirty, he was already a sixth-rank expert. Yet even he had trained diligently for over two decades to reach that level.
With his exceptional talent and privileged background, lacking no resources, it still took him that long.
Lu Jianwei didn’t have that kind of time.
She had to find another path—one that would grant her the strength to stand firm in the shortest time, ensuring her future money-making ventures could proceed unhindered.
Running an inn and serving guests alone would never earn her enough to buy a transmigration ticket back to the modern world.
If her nameless technique functioned like *Absorbing Stars Great Skill*, why not test it?
In many wuxia novels, protagonists either lucked into receiving transmitted power or passively absorbed others’ cultivation, catapulting them to the peak.
She might not have such fortune, but she wasn’t without options.
Xiao Xi’s situation had opened a new avenue for her.
Martial artists ran rampant, and countless others suffered like Xiao Xi. If she could convert their internal force into her own, wouldn’t that accelerate her growth?
Action followed thought.
Lu Jianwei sat beside Xiao Xi again, placing a hand on his wrist.
Threads of internal force slipped into Xiao Xi’s meridians. Under the nameless technique’s guidance, the invasive force was laid bare—violent, unruly, fiercely resisting her approach.
*This is fifth-rank internal force!*
She was startled. How had an ordinary child like Xiao Xi encountered a fifth-rank martial artist, let alone provoked an attack?
The two forces clashed. Even unconscious, Xiao Xi whimpered in pain.
From outside, a voice called anxiously, "What’s wrong with Xiao Xi?"
Lu Jianwei replied calmly, "Nothing serious."
The door fell silent, though heavy breathing lingered.
Lu Jianwei focused.
Having practiced the technique for months, she was still self-taught, her understanding perhaps incomplete—but that also meant she wasn’t bound by convention.
The martial world had a well-established system. Unless one specialized in unorthodox methods, no one would consider absorbing others’ internal force.
The backlash was no joke.
But Lu Jianwei was unconstrained, her imagination boundless.
She wasn’t one to cling to tradition. If a method brought benefits without harming others, she’d explore it thoroughly.
To subdue foreign internal force, there were only two ways: suppression or negotiation.
Her earlier attempt at a gentle approach had been rejected. Since diplomacy failed, suppression remained.
But the opponent was at the fifth level, while she was only at the third—how could she possibly overpower them?
She pondered for a few breaths before quickly making up her mind.
As the saying goes, even ants can bring down an elephant. The gap between an elephant and an ant is undeniably vast, but thousands of ants working together can still force the mighty beast to its knees.
Though her cultivation level was low, her internal energy was abundant. Why worry about suppressing that meager trickle of power?
A surge of immense internal energy flooded into Xiao Xi’s body, surrounding the unruly force like an unstoppable army.
The opponent struggled to break free, rampaging wildly through the meridians, relentlessly draining Lu Jianwei’s energy. Yet, an endless stream of replenishing power filled every gap, ensnaring the rebellious force completely.
The true nature of the nameless technique gradually revealed itself.
Gentle and unassuming on the surface, its fangs were hidden beneath the calm expanse of an endless sea.
Suppress. Neutralize. Devour.
Lu Jianwei had only unleashed a fraction of its power, yet the fifth-level warrior’s energy submitted involuntarily.
An indescribably profound sensation welled up within her.
Lu Jianwei closed her eyes in delight.
It was as if she had touched a barrier—just one gentle push, and she would step into an entirely new realm.
Xiao Ke: "…"
Did she max out her comprehension stats or what?!
