The acupuncture needles could no longer be used.
Lu Jianwei stored the human model back into her system inventory and pushed open the door, stepping outside to lean against the railing and look down.
Lan Ling clutched her right arm with her left hand, blood seeping relentlessly between her fingers. Her strikingly beautiful face was deathly pale, her usual glamour replaced by utter disarray.
Two others had chased her to the courtyard gates but hesitated to enter—Hei Hou and Hei Zhong, the brothers from Blackwind Fort.
This was quite the spectacle—Blackwind Fort and Thousand Miles Tower at each other’s throats.
Having suffered humiliating setbacks at the inn before, the Hei brothers carried deep psychological scars and dared not advance, choosing instead to shout from beyond the courtyard wall.
"Witch! You murdered Elder Chai! If you’ve got the guts, come out and face us! Hiding inside is cowardly!"
Lan Ling wiped the blood from her lips and sneered, "How many times must I say it? I didn’t kill Chai Kun! Chasing me all this way—you’re utterly brainless!"
She looked up at Lu Jianwei, her voice dripping with honeyed sweetness. "Madam Lu, these two idiots have wounded me, and they refuse to listen to reason. They’re hellbent on killing me. Won’t you save me?"
Lu Jianwei smiled. "As long as you can pay, everything can be arranged."
"This is a token from Thousand Miles Tower. With it, you can withdraw a hundred thousand taels from any bank." Struggling to her feet, Lan Ling pulled an exquisite jade pendant from her waist and tossed it to the third floor.
Lu Jianwei raised an eyebrow inwardly. *Are the elders of Thousand Miles Tower really this wealthy?*
She caught the pendant and called downstairs, "Guan He, help Miss Lan inside."
The other guests in the inn exchanged bewildered glances.
*Chai Kun is dead? Blackwind Fort blames Lan Ling? Where’s Ping Wu?*
"Madam Lu, don’t listen to that witch’s lies!" Hei Hou bellowed from outside the courtyard. "She killed Elder Chai—the news has spread across the jianghu! Blackwind Fort is in the right here. Even Thousand Miles Tower has abandoned her! That token is worthless now!"
Lu Jianwei paused, glancing down at Lan Ling. "Is that true?"
"Bullshit!" Lan Ling spat, her composure shattered. "I never even saw Chai Kun in Liangzhou! How could I have killed him? You’re so stupid, if Blackwind Fort ever falls into your hands, your ancestors’ legacy will be ruined!"
"Elder Chai was decapitated by an impossibly thin wire! In the entire jianghu, who else at his level specializes in wire-based assassinations besides you?!"
"Ridiculous! So if someone dies by a broadsword, it must be your doing?"
Hei Zhong interjected, "You ordered your male servant to get close to Elder Chai, then worked together to kill him! He showed no signs of struggle—he must have been hypnotized! Did you really think we wouldn’t figure it out?"
Lu Jianwei cut in, "Miss Lan, you and Ping Wu *did* collaborate on hypnosis here at the inn. Are you sure this wasn’t your doing?"
"No!" Lan Ling looked ready to vomit blood. "Ping Wu was someone Chai Kun sought out himself! He just wanted to pry secrets about Thousand Miles Tower from Ping Wu’s mouth—what a fool. I *knew* Ping Wu was trouble! I ditched him after Song Xian’s betrayal, but that idiot Chai Kun took him in anyway. Serves him right for playing with fire!"
"You dare?!" Hei Zhong roared. "You slander Elder Chai even after killing him? You deserve death!"
"One more question," Lu Jianwei said coolly. "Has Thousand Miles Tower truly disowned you?"
Lan Ling shook her head. "They’re lying to keep you from profiting off me. Someone as sharp as you wouldn’t believe such nonsense, Madam Lu. If the Tower abandoned its elders at the slightest trouble, who would ever risk their lives for them?"
"Fair point." Lu Jianwei summoned Yan Feicang and tossed him the token. "Go to Moonview City and exchange this for a hundred thousand taels."
Yan Feicang: "…"
*Fine. The boss gives the orders.*
"Madam Lu, she murdered Elder Chai! Blackwind Fort *must* avenge him!" Hei Hou protested bitterly.
Lu Jianwei chuckled. "I’m not stopping you. I simply dislike violence and bloodshed. There are still unanswered questions here. Instead of wasting time here, why not track down Ping Wu? At least he’s a witness."
"If these morons could find him, they wouldn’t be harassing *me*!" Lan Ling scoffed. "They’re not avenging Chai Kun—they just need a scapegoat to save face for Blackwind Fort."
The Hei brothers: "…"
Unwilling to provoke Lu Jianwei further, they reluctantly retreated, posting guards around the inn to prevent Lan Ling from escaping.
Seeing them stand down, Lan Ling breathed easier.
When Lu Jianwei descended the stairs, Lan Ling’s delicate brows furrowed, her expression pitiable.
"Madam Lu, I’m so fortunate to have your protection."
Lu Jianwei: "Our relationship is purely transactional. Sentimentality is bad for business. Spare me the act."
Lan Ling: "…"
She whimpered, "I’m injured… May I beg for some medicine?"
Lu Jianwei examined her wound—a deep gash on her right arm, but no other visible injuries. Internal damage would require a pulse diagnosis.
*Perfect case study.*
Sitting across from her, Lu Jianwei softened her tone. "If you trust me, let me check your pulse. Then I can prescribe the right treatment."
"Of course I trust you." Lan Ling extended her wrist. "You even cured ‘Jealousy of a Thousand Blossoms.’ My little injury hardly compares."
Ignoring the flattery, Lu Jianwei focused on the pulse. The Hei brothers were formidable; fighting two-on-one had left Lan Ling with internal injuries requiring days of rest and herbal remedies.
She withdrew her hand. "Take the medicine three times daily. The kitchen will prepare it—unless you’d rather do it yourself?"
"No, I trust you, Madam Lu."
Lan Ling had judged countless people in her life, and Lu Jianwei’s integrity was beyond reproach—aside from her greed.
Lu Jianwei considered summoning someone to fetch the herbs, then remembered Yue Shu and the others couldn’t identify them. She called for A'Nai instead.
"Madam Lu, it’s not that I won’t help," A'Nai huffed, "but the moment she entered, she accused Young Master of harming her. Why should I fetch medicine for an enemy?"
Lu Jianwei hadn’t forgotten—nor had Xue Guanhe and the others.
All eyes turned to Lan Ling, waiting for her explanation.
Lan Ling glared. "Your young master *did* ruin me! I paid a hundred thousand taels for the treasure map and trap schematics, only to find an empty tomb!"
Did they have any idea how infuriating it was to navigate deadly mechanisms just to discover bare stone?
And then being hunted by the Hei brothers the moment she emerged—
Yue Shu gasped. "There was really nothing inside?"
"Not *nothing*," Lan Ling seethed. "I was too late. The dust marks showed where chests had been, and there were signs they’d been hauled away. Someone looted it first!"
The group: *Okay, that* is *unfortunate.*
A'Nai sniffed. "What does that have to do with Young Master? He didn’t know someone would beat you to it. If you’d struck the deal sooner, the treasure might’ve been yours. You hesitated—your own fault."
"You—!"
"Count yourself lucky," A'Nai added mercilessly. "At least you’re alive. Elder Chai wasn’t so fortunate."
"…"
"The location and mechanism diagrams provided by my young master aren’t fake, are they? How can you accuse him of harming you? A fool like you, who can’t tell right from wrong—I won’t fetch your medicine!"
Lan Ling, already in a foul mood, felt a sharp pang in her chest at his words, and a surge of blood gushed from her mouth.
Before collapsing, she managed to roll her eyes with great effort.
A'Nai stumbled back in alarm. "This has nothing to do with me!"
"It absolutely does," Lu Jianwei said with a faint smile. "If you hadn’t provoked her, that stagnant blood wouldn’t have come out."
A'Nai patted his chest in relief. "Well, that’s good. I’d hate to be responsible for someone’s death."
"I know you’re sharp-tongued but soft-hearted. Why don’t you fetch the medicine for me and hand it to Guan He to brew?"
A'Nai scowled but agreed.
"Fine. Consider it repayment for angering her into fainting."
Meanwhile, the imperial court suddenly issued a proclamation, and the news spread like wildfire, sending shockwaves through the martial world.
When Lan Ling woke after taking the medicine and heard the news, her head spun again.
"What did you say? The treasure was taken by the Liangzhou army? The Mystic Mirror Bureau interrogated Song Xian for clues about the treasure map and deciphered the mechanism diagrams of the Liang King’s tomb? And the court plans to use the treasure to aid the disaster victims in Yongzhou?"
Lu Jianwei nodded. "The court took pity on the Yue family and even gave A'Yue a jade token. With it, he can withdraw funds from Tianqi Bank, up to a hundred thousand taels."
A hundred thousand was already a staggering sum—rebuilding Yongzhou and aiding its victims would require an immense fortune.
The treasure amassed by the Liang King through exploitation of the people had now returned to them. It was the best possible outcome.
Lan Ling: "..."
So all her scheming and frantic efforts these past days—what had they been for?
Truly, she had lost both the battle and the spoils.
"Who knew the Mystic Mirror Bureau had someone capable enough to crack the treasure map?" She laughed bitterly. "If I’d agreed to Wen Zhuzhi’s deal sooner, would the treasure never have been discovered by the court?"
Lu Jianwei: Not necessarily.
The mastermind behind it all remained at large, but the White Crane Manor case had reached its conclusion. With the treasure gone, the martial world settled back into peace.
Only the grudge between the Black Wind Fort and Lan Ling lingered.
After a few days of rest, Lan Ling’s internal injuries healed, and the scabs on her arm formed.
As someone who cherished beauty, the long scar on her arm deepened her resentment toward the Hei brothers.
Meanwhile, Lu Jianwei’s life was leisurely and comfortable.
Yan Feicang had indeed brought back the promised hundred thousand taels, which she deposited into the inn’s public account.
The balance now stood at two hundred and thirty thousand taels.
Lu Jianwei wasn’t in a hurry to upgrade her offensive tools.
With the unresolved conflict between Black Wind Fort and Lan Ling, she needed to keep some insurance.
Downstairs, a few were discussing the matter.
Yue Shu sighed regretfully. "It’s a shame the court didn’t mention any miraculous medicine. Otherwise, I’d have begged them to exchange the jade token for it and give it to Young Master Wen."
"Even if there were a panacea, the court wouldn’t hand it over," A'Nai said with a sigh. "Everyone values their life. A cure-all would mean a second chance at living."
Hearing this, Lu Jianwei’s suspicions grew clearer.
Coincidences happened, but too many pointed to deliberate manipulation.
The initial rumors had been spread by Lü Cao, but they had only overheard Song Xian discussing the treasure map during a night stroll at Cloud Roaming Manor.
What the treasure actually contained was unknown to them—no one could have known before seeing it.
Yet the rumors specifically mentioned a miraculous medicine.
On the surface, it seemed like an exaggeration to draw attention. But upon reflection, it felt more like an excuse.
Wen Zhuzhi’s reputation for seeking rare medicines was well-known. Hearing of a panacea, he would inevitably come.
From a motive standpoint, Wen Zhuzhi deliberately spreading the "miraculous medicine" rumor made more sense than Lü Cao doing so for attention.
Back when the system had hesitated in ranking him, Lu Jianwei had already taken note.
The court’s preemptive seizure of the treasure only strengthened her theory.
On the surface, Lan Ling and Chai Kun’s indecision had delayed the treasure hunt. But the Mystic Mirror Bureau just happened to extract a copy of the map and have someone decipher it—too convenient to be mere coincidence.
Before this, A'Nai had often gone to Moonview City to distribute porridge, giving him the perfect opportunity to relay messages.
So from start to finish, the "miraculous medicine" in the treasure had been a ruse.
It was merely an excuse for someone to intervene in the case.
Of course, this was all Lu Jianwei’s speculation. She didn’t care about Wen Zhuzhi’s true identity.
As long as he paid promptly, she had no reason to probe further.
As for why no one else suspected—perhaps the image of the Wen master and servant was too deeply ingrained.
A frail, wheelchair-bound man with a short lifespan, and a sharp-tongued, bothersome servant—who would take them seriously?
Besides, others weren’t aware of Wen Zhuzhi’s fluctuating rank, so they lacked the context to connect the dots.
She descended the stairs and walked to the corridor outside the main hall.
The sky was leaden, heavy clouds pressing low as if crushing the horizon.
A bitter wind whipped sand against the courtyard walls, howling furiously.
"Xiao Ke, is it going to snow?"
"I’m not a weather forecast."
"Oh, so I overestimated you." Lu Jianwei tightened her crane-feather cloak, securing the collar, and remarked idly.
Xiao Ke: Infuriating.
"Manager Lu." Lan Ling, still clad in a flimsy gauze dress, swayed toward her with graceful steps. She extended her fair, delicate arm and pouted. "I’ve got this scar now. Do you have any medicine to remove it?"
Lu Jianwei raised an eyebrow. "Such medicine is expensive. Do you still have money?"
Lan Ling: "I gave you a hundred thousand. Just deduct it from that. Young Master Wen pays ten thousand a month—my hundred thousand should cover ten months, right?"
"Fair enough." Lu Jianwei nodded.
This was a good opportunity to test whether she could concoct a scar-removing ointment.
Lan Ling giggled and clung to her arm. "Manager Lu is so good to me. Not like those foul men—either scheming or outright fools."
"Not really," Lu Jianwei said, extracting her arm and stepping back. "I just like your money."
Lan Ling burst into laughter.
"Manager Lu is refreshingly honest, unlike those hypocrites outside."
Lu Jianwei: "..."
"You have inner strength to protect against the cold. Why still bundle up so much?" Lan Ling tugged at her cloak curiously. "Isn’t it cumbersome?"
Lu Jianwei smiled. "Each season has its own attire, and each season’s wardrobe can feature different styles. That way, I can wear something new every day. When it snows, a cloak like this pairs perfectly with the scenery."
In truth, it was also a reminder to herself—no matter how formidable her martial skills became, she shouldn’t forget the ordinary life she once knew in another world.
She mustn’t lose herself here and forget the way home.
Lan Ling fell silent, thoughtful.
The image of snow and a beautiful woman surfaced in her mind. She turned to study Lu Jianwei.
The white cloak was embroidered with crimson wintersweet blossoms at the sleeves, its collar lined with pristine fur that framed the woman’s striking features—elegant and poised.
Truly breathtaking.
Lan Ling couldn’t help but smile.
It had been so long since she’d felt such tranquility.
From the moment she embarked on the martial path, her life had been a relentless cycle of life-or-death struggles and intricate schemes.
Just then, a snowflake drifted down and landed on Lu Jianwei’s outstretched palm, melting instantly.
Lan Ling laughed and nestled closer to her.
"It's snowing, so cold! Manager Lu, could you lend me a winter coat to keep warm?"
Lu Jianwei extended her hand.
"Fine, fine, I'll buy it. Deduct it from the hundred thousand taels," Lan Ling deliberately rubbed her arms, pretending to shiver.
She was shorter than Lu Jianwei, with a voluptuous and graceful figure. Lu Jianwei estimated her size and purchased a red winter outfit from the system, placing it in the third-floor wardrobe.
The dress was exquisitely crafted, adorned with intricate embroidery, its fiery scarlet hue dazzling like flames.
Lan Ling was delighted at the sight and hurriedly changed into it.
Her fair complexion had always suited red, but her usual attire was light and thin, unlike this winter garment, which wrapped her entire body in its heavy fabric, leaving only her radiant, enchanting face exposed. Against such a vibrant color, she outshone even the most beautiful flower.
"It's so gorgeous!" Lan Ling had discovered a whole new world, posing endlessly in front of the mirror.
Lu Jianwei: "..."
The bronze mirror couldn’t reflect even a fraction of her beauty, yet somehow, Lan Ling still saw herself as stunning.
Lan Ling flaunted her new clothes downstairs, but alas, the men in the inn were either too old, too young, or painfully dull—none paid her any attention.
"What a bunch of blockheads!" She rolled her eyes and plopped onto a bench, watching Jin Poxiao and Yan Feicang practice their blade forms in the courtyard.
Snowflakes swirled as the cold gleam of their swords sliced through the air.
Suddenly, A'Nai rushed in and asked, "Manager Lu, could we add a charcoal brazier to my master’s room?"
"Has Young Master Wen caught a chill?" Ever since gaining the ability to diagnose ailments, Lu Jianwei had grown fond of taking pulses and couldn’t resist the opportunity.
A'Nai: "...Not yet, but he’s been coughing lightly. If this keeps up, he might fall ill."
"Alright." Lu Jianwei called for Yue Shu. "Go to the storeroom and fetch a brazier for Young Master Wen. Oh, what kind of charcoal does he prefer?"
"Silver-thread charcoal, of course."
"A'Yue, the braziers should be in the southeast corner of the storeroom, toward the back. Look for them there. The charcoal is stored together."
Yue Shu nodded and dashed off to the underground storage.
"Manager Lu, your storeroom is like a treasure trove. How do you have everything?" Lan Ling teased casually.
Lu Jianwei remained unfazed. "Running an inn means preparing for all possibilities, anticipating guests’ needs before they arise. Satisfy them promptly, or how else would we make money?"
Everyone: "..."
How much more money do you even need? Tens of thousands of taels a month isn’t enough?
Before long, Yue Shu returned with the brazier and charcoal, helping A'Nai carry them to the shared lodging.
"Young Master, the sudden snow means we’ll be delayed for a few more days," A'Nai muttered as he lit the brazier.
With the roads buried under snow, travel was impossible.
Yue Shu blinked in surprise. "You’re leaving?"
"Of course," A'Nai set down the fire tongs. "The treasure’s already been taken—why stay? Fengzhou is bitterly cold in winter. We were planning to return to Yongzhou, but now we’re snowed in. Who knows when we’ll be able to leave?"
Yue Shu felt a pang of reluctance. "I think it’s nice here. The snow is much heavier than in the south. I grew up in Jiangzhou and have never seen snowfall like this. Once it piles up, we can build snow lions together."
"Well, since we’re stuck here for now, let’s do that." A'Nai grinned in agreement.
As noon approached, Xue Guanhe finished his training and asked Lu Jianwei, "Manager, what would you like for lunch today?"
Lu Jianwei pondered. Hot pot on a snowy day—a perfect match.
"How about 'antique stew'?"
The Qi Dynasty had its own version of hot pot, called "antique stew" (gudong geng), named for the "gudong" sound ingredients made when dropped into boiling water.
The ingredients here were plentiful. Foods that had taken centuries to spread in her original world—like potatoes, sweet potatoes, chili peppers, and tomatoes—were already staples here.
The cooking methods, however, were still somewhat limited.
But under her guidance, Xue Guanhe had refined and innovated many dishes, his culinary skills growing ever more impressive.
"Hot stew on a snowy day—perfect!" Xue Guanhe eagerly agreed. "I’ll start prepping right away."
Uncle Zhang chimed in, "I’ll help."
"Me too!" Yue Shu wasn’t about to be left out.
A'Nai lifted his chin haughtily. "I’ll lend a hand, too. Wouldn’t want you slowpokes delaying my master’s meal."
"A'Nai, I’ll make a mild broth with medicinal herbs. Why not invite Young Master Wen to join us? Hot pot is always livelier with more people!" Xue Guanhe suggested.
Yue Shu nodded vigorously. "Yeah! A'Nai, doesn’t Young Master Wen eat alone every day? It must be lonely."
"True, making a separate medicinal broth isn’t hard," Uncle Zhang kneaded dough with practiced ease. "It’s rare for people from all over to gather like this. Fate brought us together."
A'Nai was tempted. He lowered his head, but the corners of his lips betrayed a faint smile.
"I can’t decide for my master. I’ll have to ask him."
The other three exchanged knowing glances, grinning but keeping quiet.
Everyone knew Young Master Wen was never picky—it was just A'Nai being overly cautious.
As expected, Wen Zhuzhi didn’t refuse.
Xue Guanhe and A'Nai prepared four broth bases: mild, spicy, tomato, and medicinal.
Hot pot was popular in the Qi Dynasty, so specialized tools were readily available.
Uncle Zhang brought out a table with a circular hole cut in the center, beneath which a stove was placed. A wide, deep copper pot sat atop the stove, divided into four compartments.
The four distinct broths remained separate, yet their aromas mingled into an irresistibly rich fragrance.
The scent drifted through the slightly open window, carried by the wind beyond the courtyard walls. Outside, disciples of the Black Wind Fort sniffed the air, their stomachs growling in protest.
"So fragrant!"
"It’s antique stew! They must be eating antique stew!"
"I want some too..."
Alas, they were under orders to monitor Lan Ling and couldn’t leave their posts. They could only gnaw on cold, hard flatbreads, washed down with snowmelt, as the tantalizing aroma tormented them.
Woe is them.
Inside the inn, the main hall’s doors were shut tight, the heat from the hot pot filling the room and driving away the cold.
Nine people crowded around the table, squeezing in comfortably enough.
Candles lit the hall brightly.
Lan Ling wasted no time plopping down beside Lu Jianwei, pressing close. "I refuse to sit next to stinky men."
The stinky men: "..."
We’re not exactly thrilled to sit with you either.
As the broths bubbled merrily, Lu Jianwei picked up the communal chopsticks and said cheerfully, "Don’t hold back. Dig in—eat whatever you like!"
The group eagerly followed suit, reaching for ingredients with their chopsticks.
*Bang! Bang! Bang!*
A sudden knock at the gate interrupted the lively feast.
"Yan Feicang, you go," Lu Jianwei instructed.
Reluctantly, Yan Feicang set down his half-formed meatball and strode out to answer the door.
Outside stood an old acquaintance—Han Xiaofeng of the Mystic Mirror Bureau, clad in purple robes with a curved saber at his waist.
Yue Shu jumped up in delight. "Officer Han! What brings you here?"
Han Xiaofeng’s hair and beard were dusted with snow. He shook out his cloak, sending flakes scattering to blend with the courtyard’s white blanket.
"I promised to personally thank Manager Lu once the case was resolved. Today’s blizzard made for an abrupt visit—my apologies."
Yue Shu glanced back at Lu Jianwei.
Facing the entrance, Lu Jianwei smiled. "All guests are welcome. Officer Han, please come in. Guanhe, fetch another set of utensils."
"Got it!"
Han Xiaofeng led his horse inside, personally tied it up, shook off the snow clinging to his coat, and only then stepped into the hall.
The hearth in the main room blazed warmly, the broth bubbling in the pot, its rich aroma instantly dispelling the chill of the journey.
At the far end of the table sat Uncle Zhang, Yue Shu, and Xue Guanhe. The right side was occupied by Yan Feicang and Jin Poxiao, while the left was taken by Wen Zhuzhi and A'Nai.
Han Xiaofeng wasn’t about to fight for space with someone in a wheelchair, so he squeezed onto the bench with Yan and Jin.
The three of them—all tall, burly men—looked rather comical crammed onto a single wide bench, yet there was an oddly heartwarming atmosphere to it.
It had been a long time since they’d last experienced such lively, everyday warmth.
"Manager Lu, this is my token of gratitude. Please accept it." Han Xiaofeng disliked owing favors. While Yue Shu had indeed repaid his debt on his behalf, to him, that was merely a gesture toward the Mystic Mirror Bureau.
On a personal level, he still owed his own thanks.
Given that Lu Jianwei’s love for money was common knowledge, gifting her cash was a safe bet.
Lu Jianwei took the envelope—likely containing several banknotes—and without hesitation, tucked it into her sleeve.
"There’s one more thing." Han Xiaofeng retrieved another envelope from his robes and handed it to Yue Shu. "Your uncle is currently stationed in Liangzhou. When he learned about the incident with the Liang Prince’s tomb, he wrote this letter and asked me to deliver it to you."
So his uncle had gone to Liangzhou.
Yue Shu accepted the letter and, unable to curb his curiosity, opened it right away. The letter was hastily written—just a single thin sheet.
His eyes skimmed over the contents, and he froze slightly.
