Lan Ling and Chai Kun dashed fifty zhang away. The spies outside the inn sensed the danger and also surged into motion, retreating several dozen zhang in haste.
Fifty zhang was the safety zone.
As sixth-rank martial masters, Lan Ling and Chai Kun could easily withstand the shockwaves from this distance. They stopped, standing in separate positions, waiting for the Eight Directions Inn to be reduced to nothing.
A sixth-rank martial master’s self-detonation was no joke—even an eighth-rank martial king might struggle to suppress it. With so many people inside the inn needing protection, no matter how formidable the mysterious expert was, what could they possibly do?
The destruction of the inn was inevitable. As for the people inside, even if they didn’t die, they’d be crippled.
Lan Ling sighed. “What a pity.”
It was a shame that the remarkable person she had finally encountered would die in the explosion, her body likely rendered unrecognizable.
Chai Kun didn’t dwell on it. The transcription of *The Artisan’s Annotations* was already complete—his mission was finished. Whether the Eight Directions Inn was destroyed or not had nothing to do with him.
In fact, it would be better if it were. At least the Black Wind Fort’s reputation would be somewhat salvaged.
The two of them, along with the spies, waited… and waited… until the sun began to set in the west, yet the inn remained intact.
Someone ventured forward to investigate, but before they could reach the courtyard wall, they were overwhelmed by the surging energy radiating from within and hastily retreated.
The sun hung low above the inn’s rooftops, the glazed tiles shimmering brilliantly, transforming the building into the most dazzling sight in the vast wilderness.
A radiant halo spilled from the upturned eaves, magnificent and profound, casting an air of mystique over the entire inn.
But this was supposed to be the self-detonation of a sixth-rank martial master!
Disbelief and astonishment churned in everyone’s hearts, yet the evidence was undeniable.
The inn had not been reduced to ashes. There were no casualties.
Only when night fell and lanterns flickered to life inside the inn did they finally snap out of their daze, overcome with indescribable awe.
Lan Ling frowned slightly, her gaze toward the inn deeply conflicted.
Every time she thought she had come to understand the Eight Directions Inn, it humbled her once more.
As the third-ranked elder of the Thousand Miles Tower, she had been thoroughly humbled.
Chai Kun’s expression was equally grave.
Within the fort, attitudes toward the Eight Directions Inn had always been ambiguous. Most wanted to avenge the two young lords, reclaim their dignity, and restore Black Wind Fort’s reputation.
But if they had witnessed this scene firsthand, they would never dare entertain such delusions again.
Inside the inn, Lu Jianwei reveled in the abundant energy coursing through her, her joy even eclipsing the grief of losing a fortune.
She could now be considered a second-tier expert in the martial world.
“It’s over. Everyone, come out.”
The hall doors swung open. Xue Guanhe rushed out first, his eyes locking onto Lu Jianwei standing gracefully in the courtyard. His admiration for her surged like an unstoppable tide.
He was no longer the ignorant novice he once was. Under Uncle Zhang’s seasoned tutelage, he had gained a deeper understanding of the martial world.
The destructive power of a sixth-rank martial master’s self-detonation was undeniable.
Yet look at his master!
His most kind, most beautiful, most noble master—what had she done?
She had suppressed the explosion effortlessly, emerging completely unscathed.
Her prowess was so overwhelming it made one want to prostrate in reverence.
“Master! You’re incredible!” In his excitement, the title he had long held in his heart slipped out.
Lu Jianwei calmly instructed, “It’s getting dark. Light the lanterns.”
“I’ll do it!” Yue Shu, seeing Song Xian’s pitiful state, felt a deep satisfaction—justice had been served.
Xue Guanhe added, “We haven’t eaten all day. I’ll go cook.”
Uncle Zhang chuckled. “I’ll tend to the fire.”
The three dispersed to their tasks, leaving the remaining guests gathered in the courtyard, too stunned to speak.
Han Xiaofeng had long heard of the Eight Directions Inn’s mysteries, which was why he had been so polite upon arrival.
As a Purple Robe Envoy of the Mystic Mirror Bureau, he was neither welcomed by martial artists nor inclined to treat them kindly. When investigating cases elsewhere, he often had to rely on intimidation rather than reason.
Thankfully, he had made the right choice—he hadn’t offended Innkeeper Lu.
“Innkeeper Lu, I will remember this kindness,” he said with a cupped fist salute. “I didn’t bring much silver with me on this trip. Would it be acceptable if I returned after concluding this case to properly express my gratitude?”
Still basking in her triumph, Lu Jianwei generously agreed. “Envoy Han, how do you plan to deal with Song Xian and Song Fu?”
“Naturally, I’ll take them back to the Mystic Mirror Bureau for interrogation.”
Though Song Xian’s meridians were shattered and he could no longer speak, with proper medicine and rest, he would eventually recover enough to answer questions.
And if he couldn’t, there was still Song Fu.
Hearing this, Tao Yang’s mind reeled in confusion.
His master had become a murderer, arrested by the Mystic Mirror Bureau. What would become of Leisurely Cloud Manor now?
And what about what Wei Liu had said about Senior Sister Lan and Senior Sister Mei? What had really happened?
His thoughts were a tangled mess, as though his entire world had collapsed.
Wei Liu, however, remained composed. Seeing the despicable villain captured, she felt a fierce satisfaction. “Envoy Han, you mentioned earlier that he led over a hundred men to raid White Crane Manor. But on the night of the incident, most of Leisurely Cloud Manor’s disciples were present at the manor. Even those traveling outside numbered no more than a dozen.”
Where had the remaining hundred come from?
Han Xiaofeng’s expression turned solemn. “Thank you for the lead, Miss Wei. I’ve already uncovered traces of this, but I don’t yet have a clear picture of who was involved.”
Leisurely Cloud Manor was far more complicated than it seemed.
Wei Liu’s face darkened with sorrow. “The other disciples in the manor didn’t know, but while preparing the deceased senior sisters for burial, I noticed something strange about their deaths. I looked through the manor’s records of those who had passed and realized that the sisters who died ‘accidentally’ were all third-rank or below, most around sixteen years old.”
“Monsters!” A’Nai spat in fury. “Miss Wei, you shouldn’t stay in such a place any longer. Who knows what filth you might be tainted with?”
Wei Liu hesitated, glancing at Lu Jianwei. “Though the manor lord is vile, most of my fellow disciples are kind and righteous. I don’t know what to do.”
Unlike Tao Yang, who seemed on the verge of collapse, she was simply lost.
Leisurely Cloud Manor itself was not at fault—it was the people within it.
Lu Jianwei understood her dilemma and, after a brief pause, chose to lay it bare.
“The manor is blameless, and so are its disciples. But sustaining a manor requires money. Where does that money come from? Could the deceased sisters you mentioned have been exploited as tools for profit? Can you still stay in such a place?”
Wei Liu’s face turned deathly pale. If the manor’s entire livelihood was built on the blood money earned from selling those sisters’ lives—
She gagged violently.
Tao Yang felt as though he had been struck by lightning. Trembling uncontrollably, his grip on his sword shook as his face alternated between ashen and sickly green. Unable to contain himself, he turned on Song Xian and demanded,
“Is what she said true? Is what Innkeeper Lu said true? Did you really do this? Then what about Xiao Zhu? Was her death not an accident either?”
But Song Xian couldn’t answer. He could only lie there, his eyes wide and unblinking, his breath ragged and weak.
“Who’s Xiao Zhu?” A’Nai voiced the question on everyone’s mind.
Wei Liu looked at the devastated Tao Yang, her expression complex.
“Senior Sister Zhu saved Tao Yang’s life when they were children. They grew up together.”
But while Senior Sister Zhu was beautiful, her martial talent was lacking. She had later died in an accident during a mission.
“Oh,” A’Nai pressed, “are all the disciples in your manor orphans?”
“Yes,” Wei Liu said quietly. “He picked us all up from the streets.”
A'Nai remarked casually, "Are you sure they were truly orphans picked up off the streets? Just randomly found, and you happened to stumble upon beauties like Miss Wei and Young Master Tao? Are all the other disciples of the manor this good-looking?"
"..."
The two paled further, their pupils contracting sharply, breaths growing heavy and ragged.
They hadn’t considered this before, but now that A'Nai pointed it out, the more they thought about it, the more horrified they became.
What if… they hadn’t been orphans at all?
The others wore similarly shaken expressions.
If this were true, then Song Xian deserved death by a thousand cuts—the sins he had committed were far too deep and grievous.
"Envoy Han, let the Mystic Mirror Bureau investigate Song Xian’s crimes and announce them to the world," Lu Jianwei’s gaze swept over the rest. "As for the earlier protection fee—aside from the inn staff, ten thousand taels per person."
She deliberately quoted a high price first; if anyone couldn’t pay, she’d adjust accordingly.
But no one objected.
Life was always more precious than money. Given the perilous situation earlier, had it not been for Lu Jianwei—and the possible presence of other experts—most of them would have died on the spot.
Wen Zhuzhi was the first to speak. "Manager Lu, given the dire circumstances earlier, you turned the tide at great cost. Wen is willing to pay twenty thousand taels each for A'Nai, Brother Jin, and myself."
Lu Jianwei’s eyes lit up instantly. Such generosity from a wealthy man!
She smiled brightly. "You’ve already paid before—a month’s protection. It’s only right that I safeguard you."
"The previous agreement applied to ordinary circumstances. What happened just now was extraordinary. Wen is happy to pay separately as thanks for saving our lives. Please accept it. A'Nai, fetch the money box."
A'Nai hurried inside and returned moments later with a wooden case, presenting it to Lu Jianwei.
"Manager Lu, you were truly heroic earlier—a rare and righteous soul in this world. A'Nai admires you from the bottom of his heart!"
Lu Jianwei motioned for Uncle Zhang to take it.
No wonder he was the wealthiest man in the south—not only generous but also eloquent.
She loved doing business with people like him.
"Wait!" Jin Poxiao suddenly interjected. "Brother Wen, you covered for me earlier, and I already felt guilty. This time, I’ll pay for myself."
"Brother Jin, no need for formalities," Wen Zhuzhi said with a smile. "But if you insist, I do have a request."
"Speak freely!" Jin Poxiao replied readily.
"If the treasure map is deciphered, could I ask your merchant brothers to help me retrieve a certain medicinal herb? The rest of the treasure can be divided among them."
Jin Poxiao frowned. "That won’t do! The herb is yours, and so is the treasure. I’ll rally my brothers to help you recover it all!"
The others: The more they listened, the greener their envy grew.
Once the two reached an agreement, Lu Jianwei accepted sixty thousand taels in banknotes, her mood soaring as she stepped behind the counter. Hiding the money in the drawer, she transferred it into the system, watching the public account balance shoot up to sixty thousand.
If only there were more magnanimous tycoons like this!
"Sister Lu," Wei Liu wiped her tears and approached the counter, eyes red. "I don’t have that much on me, but once I return and gather the funds, I’ll bring them to you. Is that alright?"
Lu Jianwei asked kindly, "Will you be able to raise the money once you return?"
Wei Liu nodded. "Tao Yang and I discussed it earlier. Once his… once Song Xian’s crimes are publicly declared, we’ll disband Leisurely Cloud Manor. All its assets will be frozen at Tianqi Bank—forty thousand will go to you as thanks. Once the Mystic Mirror Bureau verifies the disciples’ origins, if they weren’t orphans, we’ll use the remaining funds to compensate their families. If they were, the money will be split evenly so they can start anew."
Lu Jianwei gave a slight nod but offered no further comment.
She didn’t ask about their future plans or whether the other disciples would comply.
Everyone had their own path—no need to interfere.
The four from the Mystic Mirror Bureau promised to deliver their payment once the case was closed.
Both the reward and the protection fee were secured.
Yue Shu suddenly spoke up. "Envoy Han, you’ve pursued the White Crane Manor case tirelessly, even risking your lives. You shouldn’t have to pay. Though White Crane Manor is gone, some relics and properties remain. Selling them off should cover the cost."
The boy’s sincerity was palpable. Even Han Xiaofeng, hardened by years of investigations, felt a rare flicker of warmth.
He replied gently, "We’ve been to White Crane Manor. Its treasures were all looted—likely by Song Xian and his men. You and Uncle Zhang can compile a list. If any items are recovered from Leisurely Cloud Manor’s vaults, you may take them back. As for our protection fees, the Mystic Mirror Bureau will handle them."
"Envoy Han…" Yue Shu looked anxious.
Lu Jianwei cut in smoothly. "Your impartiality is commendable, Envoy Han. But since you’ve worked day and night, risking your lives for the truth, I’ll offer a discount—five thousand taels per person, deducted from Yue Shu’s account. This way, you repay me, and Yue Shu repays you. Fair?"
Five thousand each for four people totaled twenty thousand. Added to the earlier sixty and forty thousand, that made one hundred twenty thousand.
Still a profit!
Han Xiaofeng’s stern features softened. He clasped his hands toward Lu Jianwei, then nodded at Yue Shu.
"Han thanks you both."
Not all martial artists were unreasonable.
Despite the dangers, the case had concluded smoothly.
Lu Jianwei added, "The protection fee can wait, but don’t forget the reward."
Han Xiaofeng chuckled. "Rest assured, Manager Lu."
No one returned to their rooms. Instead, they gathered in the hall, waiting for Xue Guanhe to serve dinner.
Han Xiaofeng had administered medicine to keep Song Xian alive but left his shattered meridians untreated.
Few could endure the agony of broken meridians.
Let him suffer for his countless innocent victims.
Only Ping Wu remained standing.
He was the last to enter, approaching Lu Jianwei and saying, "Manager Lu, I possess nothing of value. I’ve no way to repay your lifesaving grace."
The crowd: Ho! Trying to skip out on the bill?
Lu Jianwei arched a brow. "You’re Lan Ling’s man. She’ll cover you."
"Who said I’d pay for him?" Lan Ling sauntered into the courtyard, her waist swaying, bells tinkling sweetly.
"He belongs to you," Lu Jianwei said coolly.
Lan Ling giggled. "He *was* mine, but not anymore. Manager Lu, if he truly can’t pay, why not take him in? He’s delicate, obedient, and skilled at… serving. You won’t regret it."
Lu Jianwei: "..."
She wanted money, not a freeloader.
Handsome men were a dime a dozen—was money?
Besides, she had no interest in secondhand goods!
"Shameless nonsense!" Xue Guanhe stormed out of the kitchen, fuming. "Our manager is pure as jade—how could she stoop to your level?"
Lan Ling: ?
The others stifled laughter.
Lu Jianwei’s expression turned icy. "You brought him here. Either pay or take him with you."
"I’m broke," Lan Ling spread her hands, feigning helplessness.
Lu Jianwei’s patience snapped.
Debt dodgers were the inn’s enemies.
Ping Wu stepped forward, head bowed. "Manager Lu, if you’ll have me, I’ll work as your servant for life."
"We don’t need more servants!" Xue Guanhe snapped. "Stop trying to seduce the manager!"
"Exactly! Being a shop assistant for life can waive ten thousand taels?" A'Nai chimed in, never one to miss out on stirring the pot. "What kind of assistant is worth that much?"
Jin Poxiao joined in: "Right, if that’s the case, I’d gladly be an assistant too—heck, I’d even pay for the privilege!"
The crowd: "……"
Yue Shu, ever the most proactive, wasted no time pulling out a silver note from his sleeve and handing it to Lu Jianwei.
"Boss, that one from Song Xian earlier was damaged and unusable. Here’s a genuine one to swap it out. And these—all the money I’ve earned these past ten days—I’m giving it all to you."
As he spoke, he produced dozens more silver notes, all contributions from Lan Ling, Chai Kun, and Song Xian.
Lan Ling pouted. "Manager Lu, see? All my money’s been spent on paying to read books."
Lu Jianwei shot her a sharp look. "Then can you even afford to stay at the inn tonight?"
"…I still have five taels left."
Lu Jianwei nodded. As long as the money was paid, all was well.
She pushed Yue Shu’s silver notes back to him. "Keep your money. You’ll need it for many things in the future."
Learning the esoteric arts of Qimen Dunjia wasn’t just about books—it required expensive tools for practice. The fortune left by White Crane Manor might not even cover it.
Seeing her firm expression, Yue Shu had no choice but to gather the notes back.
"Lord Ping Wu, since you can’t pay up and we’re not short on assistants, how about writing an IOU and earning the money elsewhere? Monthly installments sound fair?" Lu Jianwei offered him a way out.
With his skills as a fourth-rank martial artist, finding work wouldn’t be hard—he could easily join a security escort or take on commissions. Or, worst case, find another patron.
Ping Wu: "……"
"How about this—I’ll pay his ten thousand taels for him." Chai Kun strode in, his voice booming.
The crowd was stunned. Since when did Elder Chai of Blackwind Fort have such… tastes?!
Even Ping Wu took an involuntary step back.
Realizing the implication, Chai Kun quickly clarified: "Blackwind Fort is short on manpower. Lord Ping Wu is a fourth-rank martial artist—would he consider becoming a retainer for our fort?"
"Ping Wu thanks Elder Chai." He clasped his hands and bowed, making his choice.
Chai Kun handed over the ten thousand taels, his tone meaningful. "Manager Lu, you’re truly full of surprises. I’m impressed."
"You flatter me, Elder Chai." Lu Jianwei accepted the ten one-thousand-tael notes, then asked, "Will you be staying at the inn tonight?"
"Naturally."
"One room with Lord Ping Wu, or…?"
Chai Kun: "…Two rooms."
"That’ll be one thousand coins, plus a one-thousand-coin deposit."
Chai Kun had no choice but to keep paying—once you entered Eight Directions Inn, emptying your pockets was your fate.
The others watched the spectacle from the table.
Lan Ling’s former servant had now become a retainer of Blackwind Fort—what a twist.
No one could figure out what Chai Kun was thinking.
Lu Jianwei suddenly remembered something and turned to Feng Yan. "If I recall, you still owe me money."
The special ink and paper she’d provided had been bought from the system’s shop, and she’d nearly forgotten.
"Don’t worry, Manager Lu. It’ll be repaid along with the reward," Han Xiaofeng said. "These things have to go through official channels at the Mystic Mirror Bureau. Approval takes time, so please bear with the delay."
Lu Jianwei: "No problem."
As long as they paid eventually.
After dinner, Lu Jianwei returned to her third-floor room.
The day’s profits had left her invigorated, too energized to rest. She sat cross-legged on the bed.
She’d absorbed too much internal energy and needed time to fully refine it, stabilizing her cultivation.
Outside, a bright moon hung in the night sky, its glow bathing the wilderness. The inn’s lanterns flickered in harmony with the moonlight.
The plain wooden plaque above the gate—Eight Directions Inn—was unassuming, yet it inexplicably inspired awe.
The inn’s suppression of a self-destructing sixth-rank warrior had sent shockwaves through the surrounding spies. They wanted to report the truth, but feared their superiors wouldn’t believe them.
Who would, without seeing it firsthand?
If the inn had once been shrouded in mystery, it now carried another label—untouchable by anyone below the eighth rank.
In the eyes of those who’d witnessed its power, the inn stood above all, beyond provocation.
But how many eighth-rank Martial Kings even existed? Most were ancient recluses, unlikely to meddle with an unfathomable place like this.
The next morning, Han Xiaofeng and his three companions finished breakfast and left with Song Xian and Song Fu in custody.
Wei Liu and Tao Yang also bid farewell to Lu Jianwei, returning to Leisurely Cloud Manor to handle loose ends.
Peace returned to the inn.
With one less competitor, Lan Ling and Chai Kun were in high spirits.
Until the treasure map was deciphered, they remained cordial. But once it was, the martial world would drown in blood.
Ten days later, the Mystic Mirror Bureau delivered five hundred taels as a reward and three hundred to settle the debt.
The five hundred went to the inn’s public account, the three hundred to Lu Jianwei’s private funds.
Leisurely Cloud Manor sent a seal, redeemable for forty thousand taels at Moonview City’s Tianqi Bank.
Tianqi Bank, the official bank of the Qi Dynasty, was reliable and widespread.
The Mystic Mirror Bureau also uncovered a trove of White Crane Manor’s wealth in Song Xian’s private vault, all deposited under Yue Shu’s name. He could claim it with proof of identity—once he could leave the inn.
For now, repaying Lu Jianwei’s twenty-thousand-tael "life-saving fee" to the bureau would have to wait.
Lu Jianwei tallied the inn’s accounts. After the nine thousand taels spent during the self-destruction incident, another hundred thousand had come in.
Upgrading the attack tools would have to wait.
Making money was hard—windfalls like this didn’t come often.
Now that the inn’s reputation had soared, there wouldn’t be easy targets like the Thousand Miles Tower or Blackwind Fort anymore.
Bored, she examined the map.
Five square miles of private land—eight thousand acres waiting to be utilized.
She dragged the map north to Moonview City, its usual swarm of dots unchanged.
Further north, beyond the city’s borders, a slow-moving cluster of a hundred dots approached the northern gate.
Refugees.
From Yongzhou.
Suddenly, an overwhelming surge of internal energy shot into the sky before vanishing just as quickly.
A sixth-rank mid-tier aura!
"Brother Yan’s out of seclusion!" Jin Poxiao’s laughter echoed up to the third floor. "You look radiant, your blade skills sharper than ever—congratulations on the breakthrough!"
Yan Feicang, having secluded himself, was brimming with newfound insights. Rarely one to smile, he did so now.
"Thank you, Brother Jin."
Then he turned toward the main building, lifted his gaze, and bowed deeply.
"Thank you, Manager Lu, for your guidance."
Lu Jianwei stepped out onto the balcony, looking down at the scruffy Yan Feicang in the courtyard. Her voice was gentle.
"While you were away, Xue Guanhe struggled with cooking. No one else splits firewood as neatly or burns as long as yours. Go clean up, then head to the back and sharpen your blade."
Yan Feicang: "……"
The others: "……"
