The antidote simmered for two hours, and Lu Jianwei remained in the room the entire time.
Only when the medicinal fragrance wafted through the air did she snap out of her enlightenment, reluctantly opening her eyes.
The internal energy within Xiao Xi’s body had been completely neutralized.
She opened her personal interface.
Level: 000 (Aside from Yue Shu and Xue Guanhe, you are the weakest in the inn.)
Ignoring the snide remark at the end, the preceding number filled her with immense joy.
Two hours ago, her progress bar had barely surpassed 30,000 points. Yet, the modest internal energy of a fifth-level martial artist proved unexpectedly nourishing, boosting it by a full 2,000 points.
Truly a cause for celebration!
She could already feel her own internal energy growing more abundant, but seeing the progress bar was far more visceral—more stimulating.
This method worked!
Lu Jianwei suppressed her excitement, maintaining her usual composed and indifferent demeanor as she stood and opened the door.
“The internal energy in his body has been purged. Administer the antidote as prescribed to fully detoxify him. However, his vitality has been severely depleted and will require careful recuperation. You may visit a medical clinic in the city to obtain a restorative prescription. With a few years of recovery, he should regain his strength.”
The Niu brothers were overjoyed, their throats clogged with gratitude, yet no words could adequately express it. They could only kowtow in reverence.
As for why she didn’t prescribe the restorative medicine herself and instead directed them to a city clinic, the brothers instinctively assumed such trivial matters were beneath the esteemed Innkeeper Lu.
Uncle Zhang and the others were utterly baffled.
The internal energy had been purged?
Since when was it so easy to expel another’s internal energy?
Such an endeavor was fraught with peril—a single misstep could lead to backlash or irreversible harm to the injured. Unless one’s own cultivation far surpassed that of the attacker, forcibly expelling the energy was nearly impossible.
Uncle Zhang, already at the peak of the fourth level and on the verge of a breakthrough after mastering a new palm technique, could tell that Xiao Xi had been struck by a fifth-level martial artist.
A'Nai, also a fourth-level practitioner, recognized it as well.
The two of them stared at Lu Jianwei with undisguised astonishment.
A'Nai couldn’t resist asking, “Innkeeper Lu, just what level of expert are you?”
Lu Jianwei chuckled. “I’m merely an innkeeper. Far from an expert.”
The crowd: Disbelief. Absolute disbelief!
Even the guests meditating in their rooms had come out to witness the commotion.
Hearing her words, they too found them impossible to accept.
Even if Lu Jianwei had a powerful backer, that didn’t mean she herself wasn’t formidable.
Whether it was writing the prescription or expelling the internal energy, she had done it all herself. How could she possibly be “just an innkeeper”?
The more she downplayed it, the more profound and enigmatic she seemed.
Niu Shan carefully fed the medicine, and within moments, the bowl was empty. Xiao Xi’s complexion shifted from ashen to pale, his lips losing their dark hue.
“This medicine must be taken continuously—three times a day for three days to fully eradicate the poison,” Lu Jianwei said. “Will you purchase the herbs to brew at home, or will you stay here?”
Niu Shan hesitated. “This… this…”
“May I ask, Innkeeper Lu, what’s the difference between leaving and staying?”
Lu Jianwei replied frankly, “Staying at the inn requires payment for three days’ lodging and meals.”
She spoke without the slightest hint of shame, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
The crowd: Innkeeper Lu is undoubtedly impressive, but her obsession with money has shattered much of their earlier awe.
Had they known the term “shattered illusions,” they might have muttered it under their breath.
Niu Shan, however, held Lu Jianwei in the highest esteem. “I’d like to stay! Paying is only right!”
“Brother, you stay and look after Xiao Xi. I’ll return tomorrow to fetch the money,” Niu Qiang suggested.
Niu Shan readily agreed.
As night deepened, the onlookers dispersed to their rooms.
Lan Ling walked alongside Lu Jianwei, her voice sweet and teasing. “Innkeeper Lu, you’re truly a marvel—not only peerless in cultivation but also skilled in medicine.”
“I’ve only scratched the surface,” Lu Jianwei said truthfully.
In her skills panel, the “Spring and Autumn Medicinal Canon” was still labeled as “rudimentary.”
Not even beginner-level.
Yet others took it as modesty and dismissed it outright.
A'Nai returned to the shared quarters, still preoccupied with the prescription.
“What’s troubling you?” Wen Zhuzhi asked gently.
A'Nai shook his head. “I already knew Innkeeper Lu was extraordinary. The more impressive she is, the more I admire her.”
“Then why the long face?”
“Young Master, why would she possess a prescription from the Divine Physician Valley?” A'Nai couldn’t wrap his head around it.
The “Lovers’ Envy” incident had once caused an uproar. The philandering husband and his paramour had begged the poisoner for the antidote to no avail before turning to the Divine Physician Valley.
With their internal energy protecting them and the poison being slow-acting, they had time to wait for a cure.
But for ordinary people like Xiao Xi, it was often a death sentence.
The physicians of the Divine Physician Valley had labored tirelessly to develop an antidote, saving their lives.
The poisoner, resentful, then targeted unfaithful men across the land. The Divine Physician Valley distributed the antidote widely but never disclosed the prescription.
Aside from the Valley and the original poisoner, no one else could cure it.
“Could she have ties to the Divine Physician Valley?” A'Nai speculated.
Wen Zhuzhi smiled. “Why not consider that she might be connected to the original poisoner?”
“Innkeeper Lu doesn’t strike me as someone so wicked.”
“Wicked?”
“Yes! Poisoning so many people—isn’t that wicked?”
Wen Zhuzhi countered, “Did you know that before creating ‘Lovers’ Envy,’ she was a healer who saved lives?”
“What?!” A'Nai gasped. “Then why would she…”
Wen Zhuzhi closed his book. “Never judge by appearances alone. It’s late. Rest now.”
“Young Master,” A'Nai said, his logic delightfully skewed, “are you saying that while Innkeeper Lu seems good on the surface, she might actually be a villain?”
Wen Zhuzhi: “…”
The next morning, Niu Qiang took the ox cart back to the village to fetch money, while Niu Shan remained at the inn.
A farmer at heart, he couldn’t bear idleness and trailed after Uncle Zhang, offering help with chores as a gesture of gratitude.
“You’re a guest here. There’s no need for you to work,” Uncle Zhang insisted.
Niu Shan, no longer the despondent figure from the day before, grinned broadly. “I’m no guest! If not for Innkeeper Lu’s mercy, Xiao Xi would still be lying there, unresponsive. This morning, he woke up and called me ‘Father.’ I’ve never been happier.”
“If you truly wish to repay her, teach others how to farm in the coming days,” Uncle Zhang suggested. “Niu Qiang must’ve mentioned this.”
“He did, he did! We’ve already started composting. Once Xiao Xi is home, I’ll gather the whole village to farm for Innkeeper Lu!”
Uncle Zhang waved a hand. “No need for you to farm—just teach others how to do it.”
“Understood.” Niu Shan nodded, then added, “Innkeeper Lu is planting the wasteland outside the inn, right?”
“That’s correct.”
Niu Shan hesitated. “Does Innkeeper Lu own that land? If not, once crops are harvested, the authorities might reclaim it.”
Uncle Zhang froze. “Really?”
“I’m telling the truth,” Niu Shan insisted. “It’s wasteland now, so the officials don’t care. But if it yields anything, they might seize it—or at least demand land taxes. If things go wrong, there could be fines.”
Uncle Zhang: “…”
As a wandering martial artist, he’d never paid attention to land matters. Likely, neither had Innkeeper Lu.
“Thank you for the warning.”
Niu Shan scratched his head sheepishly.
“Heh, it’s nothing. Oh, right, if Shopkeeper Lu wants to buy land, she’d better hurry. Last time I went to the city for the market, I heard about some earthquake in Yongzhou—really big, killed a lot of people. Houses and food supplies were all destroyed. Folks say refugees might start pouring in, and the authorities might allocate wasteland to them.”
Uncle Zhang was surprised. “Isn’t the local government providing disaster relief?”
“They are, but I heard the money and food aren’t enough. The national treasury can’t cover it either. The people of Yongzhou can’t just wait to die, can they?”
The Qi Dynasty had only been established for a few decades. Before its founding, the world was in turmoil, wars raged endlessly, and resources were drained.
Even after decades of recovery, the dynasty still lacked the capacity to withstand natural disasters.
The inn was filled with martial artists. Though the two men’s conversation wasn’t hidden from the others, no one cared about earthquakes, refugees, or whether the court had enough relief supplies—none of it was their problem.
A'Nai overheard and fell into thought.
Once Xue Guanhe finished using the kitchen, he planned to prepare breakfast for his master.
Unexpectedly, Xue Guanhe stopped him.
“Wait a moment. The shopkeeper said that starting today, the rental fee for the kitchen has doubled.”
A'Nai was shocked. “Why?”
Xue Guanhe shrugged. “No idea, but those were the shopkeeper’s explicit orders.”
He couldn’t do anything about it.
With no choice, A'Nai handed over two hundred coins.
After finishing breakfast, he carried the tray to the room with a puffed-up face, still stewing in frustration.
“Did you argue with someone?” Wen Zhuzhi washed his hands and took the spoon, already accustomed to A'Nai’s temper.
A'Nai grumbled, “Master, Shopkeeper Lu suddenly doubled the kitchen rental fee without any warning. I don’t even know what I did to upset her.”
Wen Zhuzhi seemed unsurprised and chuckled. “Think back. What did you say last night?”
He had warned A'Nai before—every move inside the inn was under Shopkeeper Lu’s watch. Nothing they said could escape her ears.
Too bad A'Nai had been careless with his words the previous night.
“I didn’t say anything…” A'Nai’s temple twitched. “Oh, I remember now!”
His face fell. “But I only said it because of what you told me! It just slipped out! I didn’t really mean that Shopkeeper Lu is a bad person, ugh!”
It was all his fault for not watching his mouth—now he’d lost double the money.
“It’s just a bit of silver,” Wen Zhuzhi said. “Think of the refugees from Yongzhou—they lost everything overnight.”
A'Nai nodded. “True, they’re worse off than me. Master, is it really true that the court can’t provide relief funds?”
“Hard to say.” Wen Zhuzhi paused. “If refugees come to the outskirts of Moonview City, buy some grain and set up a porridge kitchen for them.”
“Understood, Master.”
After finishing breakfast, Wen Zhuzhi went to Yue Shu’s door.
Two men were already standing guard—Chai Kun and Song Xian, positioned on either side, keeping watch over Lan Ling inside.
They glanced at Wen Zhuzhi but paid him no mind.
Half an incense stick’s time passed quickly. When Lan Ling emerged, Chai Kun entered.
Then it was Song Xian’s turn, and finally Wen Zhuzhi’s.
A hundred-page book, read for half an incense stick each day, would take at least ten days to memorize word for word. Of course, the actual time depended on one’s memory.
Three days later, Xiao Xi was fully detoxified and returned to the village with the Niu brothers. Before leaving, everyone asked him how he’d gotten injured, but the boy was too young to explain clearly.
The villagers of Linyue Village, now aware that the inn’s shopkeeper had saved him, became even more enthusiastic about teaching the wandering martial artists farming techniques.
Meanwhile, Niu Qiang accepted Lu Jianwei’s commission to handle the land purchase with the local authorities.
After overhearing Niu Shan and Uncle Zhang’s conversation, Lu Jianwei had done some research. For uncultivated wasteland like this, one acre cost at most one tael of silver. Buying a few thousand acres would only set her back a few thousand taels.
Once the land was hers, she could do whatever she pleased with it.
To avoid being brushed off by the officials, Niu Qiang—a commoner—brought along the manager of Yuelai Restaurant to assist with the paperwork.
With the Xue family’s reputation behind them, the bureaucratic process went smoothly. The officials immediately sent men to survey the land.
When they heard Lu Jianwei intended to buy several thousand acres—effectively encircling the area within a five-mile radius—the clerks became even more motivated.
The spies lurking nearby were baffled.
With so many people in the inn scrambling for the treasure map, shouldn’t Shopkeeper Lu be overwhelmed? Why did she have the leisure to buy land?
Xiao Ke couldn’t make sense of it either.
“Why are you spending so much money on barren land? Even if it becomes arable later, what are you going to do with thousands of acres?”
Lu Jianwei raised an eyebrow. “Who said I’m planting crops?”
“Didn’t you?”
“Did I say I’d farm thousands of acres?”
Xiao Ke was speechless. “Then why buy it?”
With that kind of money, she might as well buy skills from the system shop.
Lu Jianwei sighed. “Now I finally understand why you systems insist on binding with humans instead of running inns yourselves.”
“Why?”
“Because you lack brains.”
Xiao Ke: “…You’re insulting me!”
“Just stating facts,” Lu Jianwei said, spreading her hands. “Do you have a brain?”
“…What exactly are you planning?”
Lu Jianwei: “It’s a long-term strategy. You wouldn’t get it even if I explained.”
Xiao Ke didn’t reply again, retreating into silence.
A few days later, the land survey was complete. Lu Jianwei paid up and officially owned eight thousand acres—spanning five miles outward from the inn, forming a vast territory.
Thanks to the bulk purchase, the government gave her a discount: eight thousand acres for seven thousand taels. Her personal ledger now showed a balance of twenty-six thousand.
Money really didn’t last long.
Unable to decipher her motives, the various factions gave up and refocused on the treasure map.
*The Annotations of Artisans* was finally fully transcribed.
The inn’s quiet was shattered as one piece of intel after another leaked out, sparking fierce competition among the spies.
Feng Yan stood on the second floor, sighing in amazement.
“Back when we released five hundred pages, it was just like this.”
“Envoy, we sent the message out long ago, but there’s still no response from above,” Wang Xiaoshun fretted. “Could it have gotten lost?”
“Patience,” Feng Yan said calmly. “Just wait.”
Zheng Dalu asked, “Envoy, now that they’ve got the clues, why aren’t they leaving the inn?”
Feng Yan replied, “The clues haven’t been deciphered yet. They’re probably staying to keep an eye on each other—or to dig up more leads.”
“Could there really be a treasure? Wouldn’t that just hand it to them?” Wang Xiaoshun seethed.
In his view, any treasure should be handed over to the imperial treasury. But since this was discovered by martial artists and involved multiple factions, the court couldn’t intervene.
Feng Yan patted his shoulder and sighed. Just as he was about to return to his room, his gaze caught something outside the inn—and he froze.
Beside him, Wang Xiaoshun stammered, “E-Envoy, is that—is that the P-Purple Robe Envoy?!”
Not far from the inn, a figure clad in purple robes galloped forward on horseback, sleeves billowing, radiating an intimidating aura.
Feng Yan’s eyes widened slightly before he leapt down from the second floor.
“Follow me to greet the envoy!”
At last, the three of them had backup!
Since arriving at the inn, they—the lowest-ranking envoys—had been at a disadvantage, forced to tiptoe around.
Now that the Purple Robe Envoy had arrived, they no longer had to keep their heads down.
Of course, whether the envoy could enter the inn still depended on Shopkeeper Lu’s approval.
Lu Jianwei was already aware.
She didn’t care about the identity of her guests—as long as they paid, they were welcome. Besides, Feng Yan and his two companions had been remarkably well-behaved in the inn, so she had no objections to one more.
The Purple Robe Envoy was the most formidable fighter beneath the Commander and Deputy Commander of the Mystic Mirror Bureau, possessing sixth-level cultivation. His presence maintained a delicate balance among the forces of the Thousand Miles Tower, Black Wind Fort, and Leisurely Cloud Manor.
Xue Guanhe stepped forward to open the gate.
The newcomer wore an ornate purple robe embroidered with intricate patterns, exuding an air of extravagance. A curved saber hung at his waist as he sat astride a towering horse, his posture rigidly upright. His sharp gaze swept down like a blade slicing through skin.
Only then did Xue Guanhe notice the figure slumped across the horse’s back.
The man was bound tightly with ropes, his abdomen pressed against the horse, hands tied behind his back, head hanging limply.
Xue Guanhe, now seasoned in courage, remained composed as he asked, “Will the guest be dining or staying?”
“Neither.” The Purple Robe Envoy dismounted and yanked the bound man down with him. “This envoy has come to apprehend a murderer. I trust your establishment will cooperate.”
Xue Guanhe: “…”
A murderer? Could it be the culprit behind the massacre of White Crane Manor?
A shiver ran down his spine. He didn’t dare respond immediately and was about to retreat to seek guidance when a gentle voice called from behind.
“Guanhe, invite the guest inside.”
“Yes!”
The other lodgers in the inn, hearing the commotion, gradually gathered in the front courtyard.
They were all aware that the White Crane Manor case had been assigned to the Mystic Mirror Bureau, but none had paid it much mind.
No one cared about the murderer’s identity—what truly concerned them was the treasure map.
Still, a spectacle was worth watching.
The Purple Robe Envoy strode forward and tossed the captive onto the ground. His eyes swept over the crowd before settling on Lu Jianwei’s face. He cupped his hands in greeting.
“I am Han Xiaofeng, Purple Robe Envoy of the Mystic Mirror Bureau. I’ve long heard of Innkeeper Lu’s reputation. It’s an honor.”
“Envoy Han, the honor is mine.” Lu Jianwei returned the gesture with a smile. “You mentioned apprehending a murderer. May I ask who it is?”
Han Xiaofeng nudged the man at his feet with his boot. The man groaned awake from the pain, but with his mouth gagged, he could only whimper and writhe helplessly on the ground.
“Song Xian of Leisurely Cloud Manor is the mastermind behind the slaughter of White Crane Manor. This man is his trusted subordinate, and he has already confessed.”
The crowd turned as one to look at Song Xian, who stood tall and unyielding.
A flicker of surprise crossed his brow, his eyes simmering with suppressed fury.
“Envoy Han, you jest. Yue and I were sworn brothers—how could I possibly be his killer? You produce a so-called ‘witness’ out of nowhere and expect to pin this crime on me?”
Tao Yang and Wei Liu stood silently behind him, having long faded into the background of the inn’s daily affairs.
Feng Yan stepped forward with two Gray Robe Envoys and saluted Han Xiaofeng. “Greetings, Envoy Han.”
“Hmm.” Han Xiaofeng gave a slight nod. “You’ve done well.”
The three struggled to contain their excitement, their faces barely masking their delight as they swiftly took their positions behind Han Xiaofeng, standing at attention.
Beneath the eaves of the communal quarters, A’Nai set up a small tea table laden with pastries. A clay stove simmered with tea, its fragrance wafting through the courtyard.
“Young Master, the view here is excellent,” he remarked, munching on melon seeds from his low stool.
The crowd turned to stare, disbelief written across their faces.
“Why are you all looking at me? Carry on with your business,” A’Nai said, spitting out a seed husk. “Don’t mind us.”
Han Xiaofeng’s sharp gaze shifted to Wen Zhuzhi and A’Nai—a cripple and a lowly servant, neither worth his attention. He dismissed them just as quickly.
“On the fifteenth of July, you led your servant Song Fu and a group of one hundred twenty-seven disciples to White Crane Manor, slaughtering its master and over eighty disciples and servants in cold blood.”
Before Song Xian could protest, Han Xiaofeng continued, “According to the testimony of Yue Shu, a survivor of White Crane Manor, he witnessed one of the killers that night—a man with a mole in the white of his right eye. This is that man.”
Han Xiaofeng yanked Song Fu’s head up by his hair, forcing him to lift his face. Yet the man kept his eyes tightly shut, refusing to meet anyone’s gaze.
“Preposterous!” Song Xian scoffed, his composure unshaken. “You claim some mole-eyed man was involved in the massacre and expect me to take the blame? Furthermore—” He turned to Yue Shu, his smile thin and insincere. “If Nephew Yue truly saw the killer, why wait until now to speak? Had he come forward earlier, he wouldn’t have suffered so much hardship.”
Han Xiaofeng knew Song Xian would never admit guilt. He produced a scroll tube from his sleeve and unfurled a letter.
“This was found in your study. It discusses the treasure map and orders you to retrieve it from White Crane Manor.”
Chai Kun suddenly interjected, “So it really was you? Manor Lord Song, a life for a life—what else do you have to say for yourself?”
The crowd: ?
Lan Ling reacted swiftly, chiming in with feigned shock, “Who would have thought? Manor Lord Song, you’re quite the hypocrite. You’ve frightened this poor maiden.” She turned to Yue Shu. “Young Manor Lord, if you seek vengeance, the Thousand Miles Tower would gladly lend you its strength.”
The onlookers understood immediately—Thousand Miles Tower and Black Wind Fort were seizing the chance to eliminate a rival.
“Tsk tsk. Virtue finds its allies, vice finds its accomplices,” A’Nai mused, shaking his head. “He who kills shall be killed in turn.”
“You insolent brat!”
Song Xian’s roar was accompanied by the flash of his drawn sword, its razor-sharp aura hurtling toward A’Nai.
He could tolerate Lan Ling and Chai Kun’s provocations, but a mere fourth-level servant daring to humiliate him? Unforgivable!
Han Xiaofeng moved to intervene, but it was too late. He could only watch as the sixth-level sword energy surged toward the two beneath the eaves.
A cripple and a servant—neither stood a chance.
Yet neither so much as flinched. They remained seated, sipping tea and nibbling melon seeds, their nonchalance stunning the crowd.
The sword energy struck an invisible barrier inches from their bodies, dissipating harmlessly into the air.
Only then did the onlookers remember—these two were under the protection of the inn’s hidden expert!
Han Xiaofeng had heard rumors, but witnessing it firsthand sent a tremor through his eyes.
No sound when the strike was blocked, no trace when the defense was withdrawn—just what kind of master was this?
“Innkeeper Lu, our thanks!” A’Nai clasped his hands in salute.
Lu Jianwei smiled on the outside while inwardly weeping.
Her money!
The defensive artifact had taken damage, and the cost of repairs could buy her countless dresses and jewelry boxes!
Wen Zhuzhi had paid the protection fee, so she had no issue safeguarding them. A’Nai had merely voiced what others were thinking—he’d done nothing wrong. The fault lay with Song Xian.
Too cowardly to confront Lan Ling and Chai Kun, yet bold enough to attack the weak right under her nose, wasting her hard-earned coins.
“A’Nai spoke out of turn. My apologies for the trouble, Innkeeper Lu,” Wen Zhuzhi said with a deferential bow.
“No need. His words held truth,” Lu Jianwei replied coolly. “Manor Lord Song, losing your temper and striking in my presence, disregarding the rules of this inn—do you take me for a fool?”
Without the defensive artifact, Wen Zhuzhi and A’Nai would have been severely injured, if not killed, by that strike. Given Wen Zhuzhi’s frail health, survival would have been uncertain.
Jin Poxiao’s expression darkened. “Manor Lord Song, your guilty conscience speaks volumes. Could it be Envoy Han’s accusations are true?”
“Exactly!” Xue Guanhe glared. “You’re clearly panicking!”
Song Xian: “…”
One after another, they were all convinced of his guilt?
“I will not tolerate false accusations for crimes I did not commit,” he retorted, turning to Lan Ling and Chai Kun. “The Mystic Mirror Bureau seeks to divide us. Don’t fall for their schemes.”
The crowd was speechless. To twist black into white—such silver-tongued deceit knew no bounds.
"Let's set that matter aside for now," Lu Jianwei extended her palm. "Manor Lord Song, you've just violated the inn's rules—a fine of five hundred taels."
Song Xian nearly choked on his own rage. This was truly a bloodsucking establishment! First, he'd spent ten thousand taels to ransom someone, then another thousand to have *The Annotated Art of Construction* copied, and now this fine!
He wanted to refuse, but the inn's expert had just demonstrated an unsettling level of skill. For now, he wasn't keen on making an enemy of Lu Jianwei. Reluctantly, he pulled four silver notes from his purse.
It wasn’t enough.
He turned to Wei Liu and Tao Yang, but both shook their heads.
Left with no choice, Song Xian dug out another note from his purse—creased and clearly tucked away earlier to save face. He handed it to Lu Jianwei, then glared at Han Xiaofeng.
"Since you can't produce solid evidence, you resort to slapping together forged letters to slander people. Don’t waste everyone’s time."
Han Xiaofeng, unfazed, had expected this and was about to present another piece of evidence when—
"Wait!" Yue Shu suddenly cut in, his eyes locked onto the silver note in Lu Jianwei’s palm.
"Manager, may I take a look?"
