The travel party was decided.
Uncle Zhang would be responsible for "clearing the snow," while Xue Guanhe volunteered to drive the carriage, wishing to return home for a visit.
"Manager Lu." Lan Ling called out to Lu Jianwei in a sweet, coquettish voice, her beautiful eyes fixed intently on her. "Once you leave, what shall I do?"
The men from Black Wind Fort were undeterred by the snowstorm and had been keeping watch outside. If Lu Jianwei left the inn, brothers Hei Hou and Hei Zhong would likely force their way in.
Lan Ling wasn’t afraid of a fight—she just didn’t want her new clothes ruined.
Lu Jianwei replied, "No need to worry. They won’t be able to enter."
The inn’s defensive mechanisms were bound to the establishment. No matter where she was, Xiao Ke could provide real-time updates. If anyone dared to attack the inn, she could activate the defenses at any moment.
A thoughtful gleam flickered in Lan Ling’s eyes before she smiled radiantly.
"Manager Lu, you truly are dependable. If not for these trivial matters keeping me occupied, I’d wish to stay by your side forever."
"Yue, Yan Feicang, keep watch over the inn." Lu Jianwei ignored her further and, after instructing the two, boarded the carriage without hesitation.
The exterior of the carriage was already striking enough, but the interior was even more extravagantly opulent.
The cushioned divan, the low table, the small heating stove—all were of exceptional quality. Even the snack box was engraved with golden patterns.
The bedding on the divan was covered with the finest silk, embroidered with cranes soaring amidst auspicious clouds. The sky-blue background was dotted with clouds, and the cranes appeared almost lifelike in their grace.
Wen Zhuzhi usually dressed plainly, but this carriage proved he was far more extravagant than he let on.
Lu Jianwei reclined against the divan and lifted the swaying curtain. Outside, the world was blanketed in white, an endless expanse of snow.
Her eight thousand acres of land were buried under thick snow, creating a majestic yet solemn sight.
"Uncle Zhang, what about the laborers plowing the fields?"
"Manager," Uncle Zhang replied, panting slightly as he cleared the path. "With the heavy snowfall, I allowed them to seek shelter in nearby houses. Once the snow melts, I’ll summon them back."
Lu Jianwei said coldly, "The sky has cleared. Have them come out and shovel the snow."
To expedite their journey, Uncle Zhang had only cleared a path wide enough for the carriage, leaving the sides piled high with snow and slush, making travel difficult.
The others: "..."
One couldn’t help but wonder if those martial artists who had raided the inn that night now regretted their actions day and night.
"Understood. Once we reach the city, I’ll inform the overseers." Uncle Zhang accepted the order.
Managing a group of over a hundred people was no easy task, so Uncle Zhang had selected a few sharp-witted individuals to oversee the rest.
Having served as a steward for half his life, such matters were second nature to him.
"Before I return to the inn, this road must be cleared of snow," Lu Jianwei declared, her tone unyielding. She hadn’t forgotten the clinking of coins lost that night.
These people had committed crimes but couldn’t even afford to pay restitution. It was only fair they tasted the bitter consequences.
"Yes." Uncle Zhang responded carefully, then ventured, "Manager, do you plan to keep them indefinitely?"
Lu Jianwei: "Why do you ask?"
"To be honest, they’re not as efficient as the village laborers. Niu Qiang and the others have tried teaching them repeatedly, but they never seem to learn. Aside from brute strength for plowing, they’ve little else to offer."
Lu Jianwei sighed lightly. "But they still owe me money. I can’t just let them go."
"What if someone were willing to pay their debts for them?"
"Really?" Lu Jianwei sat up at once. "Who would do that?"
Uncle Zhang chuckled. "Young Master Jin mentioned it to me privately. He said that while most of those martial artists are only third or fourth rank—not particularly high—they could still form several trade teams for the Golden Blade Trading Company, running errands for the business."
The Golden Blade Trading Company’s operations spanned the realm, but they were perpetually short on martial artists. Acquiring this group would bolster their forces significantly.
To the inn, they were a burden. To the trading company, they were assets.
While Lu Jianwei could monitor every event within the inn, she couldn’t possibly dedicate her full attention to it at all times.
Moreover, she typically tuned out the daily chatter among the inn’s staff.
It wasn’t surprising she hadn’t heard this private exchange.
Lu Jianwei smiled. "Eleven hundred taels per person. Can Jin Poxiao afford that?"
A hundred and thirty-six people would amount to a staggering one hundred forty-nine thousand six hundred taels of silver.
If this deal went through, the inn’s coffers would swell, and she could finally upgrade her offensive tools.
Uncle Zhang replied cheerfully, "Young Master Jin was merely concerned you might have other plans for them."
In other words, the money meant nothing to him.
Lu Jianwei: "...We’ll discuss this after returning to the inn."
The world of the wealthy remained beyond her comprehension.
Moonview City wasn’t particularly prosperous, its city walls neither tall nor its gates grand.
After such heavy snowfall, travel was arduous, and few ventured in or out. The guards at the gate had grown lax, their numbers halved from the usual.
It couldn’t be helped—the cold was unbearable. Standing outside for too long would turn a man into an icicle, so shifts were rotated frequently.
Only two guards stood at the southern gate, clad in thin winter uniforms, their limbs stiff from the cold.
When they saw snow and mud spraying in the distance, their eyes widened.
"It’s—it’s martial artists!"
"To plow through snow this thick, what rank must they be?"
"Let’s be careful not to offend them."
"Understood."
The resplendent carriage halted at the city gate.
The guards performed a routine inspection. Han Xiaofeng presented his badge, and their expressions changed instantly as they waved the party through.
Lu Jianwei didn’t even need to show her face.
Having gazed at the snowy landscape the entire journey, her eyes were nearly fatigued. She now sat inside, meditating in quiet repose.
"Where was the crime scene last night?" Han Xiaofeng asked Feng Yan.
Feng Yan answered promptly, "Green Willow Lane, in the eastern quarter."
"I know the way!" Xue Guanhe steered the carriage toward the lane.
Inside the city, the snow had been cleared, allowing the carriage to speed unhindered. Slush flew in all directions, but the streets were empty, sparing the townsfolk any disturbance.
Green Willow Lane was under strict lockdown due to the murder.
Though the Mystic Mirror Bureau had taken over the case, they still required the local yamen’s cooperation. The constables stationed there were from the city’s police force.
"Damn, it’s freezing. If we keep standing here, we’ll turn into icicles."
"Ain’t that the truth? When will this case be solved?"
"It’s a martial artist’s doing. These things never get solved quickly."
"I heard the poison’s especially nasty."
A man with a broadsword approached, his voice gruff. "Enough chatter. The Purple Robe Envoy is coming."
"Boss Wang, do you think the envoy can crack the case?"
Wang Zhi rubbed his hands together and exhaled sharply before glaring at them. "You asking me? Who should I ask?"
"There’s that Azure-clothed Envoy inside, studying the poison. Why don’t you ask him when they’ll figure it out?"
Wang Zhi kicked him playfully. "Go to hell!"
That Azure-clothed Envoy was insufferably arrogant, always looking down his nose at people. He wouldn’t go begging for scraps.
The sound of the carriage wheels echoed conspicuously in the silent street. The constables stiffened at the noise, their expressions solemn as they stared toward the lane’s entrance.
An extraordinarily luxurious carriage came to a stop. The young driver hopped down and spoke respectfully to the occupant. "Manager, we’ve arrived at Green Willow Lane."
"Hey, isn’t that the Xue family’s young master?" one constable whispered in surprise.
"It is him."
"Why’s he working as a coachman? Who’s inside the carriage?"
"Didn’t you hear? He apprenticed under the manager of the Eight Directions Inn outside the city. Now he’s a martial artist too."
"I thought that was just a rumor. A proper martial artist running an inn here? Must be rolling in money."
Wang Zhi bellowed, "What do you know? Shut your mouths!"
He strode forward, recognizing the visitors by their robes, and clasped his hands in greeting. "This humble servant greets the Purple Robe Envoy and the Azure-clothed Envoy."
His gaze then shifted to Xue Guanhe and Uncle Zhang.
"And these two…"
The lockdown meant no unauthorized personnel were allowed entry. He wasn’t sure about Uncle Zhang’s identity and was also suspicious of Xue Guanhe’s presence.
"Officer Wang, I came with the innkeeper to assist with the case," Xue Guanhe explained. "Uncle Zhang is here for the same reason."
Wang Zhi thought: *So where’s the innkeeper?*
Lu Jianwei lifted the carriage curtain and stepped down gracefully, standing beside Han Xiaofeng. "May we proceed inside?"
Han Xiaofeng gestured with an outstretched hand. "Innkeeper Lu, after you."
The two walked side by side, though a keen observer might notice Han Xiaofeng lagging half a step behind.
Wang Zhi: "…"
He reflexively blocked Xue Guanhe and asked blankly, "Young Master Xue, was that… your master just now?"
Xue Guanhe puffed up with pride. "Yes. My master is incredible!"
Wang Zhi thought: *What kind of luck does this kid have to become the disciple of someone so skilled and beautiful?*
He wasn’t blind—he could see the Purple Robe Envoy’s deference toward her.
Who was the Purple Robe Envoy? A top-tier expert in the Mystic Mirror Bureau, feared even in the martial world. Aside from the Chief Commander and two Deputy Commanders, the Purple Robe Envoys held the highest authority.
For someone like that to treat the innkeeper of the Eight Directions Inn with such care—how could Lu Jianwei be ordinary?
*Young Master Xue is ridiculously lucky!*
Even as Lu Jianwei walked ahead, Wang Zhi remained rooted in place, his expression mirroring the stunned faces of his subordinates.
"Oh, right," Xue Guanhe suddenly turned back and asked politely, "Officer Wang, could you spare someone to run an errand to my house? Let my father know that my master, Uncle Zhang, and I will be staying overnight, so the steward should prepare guest rooms."
He produced ten copper coins. "For your trouble."
Wang Zhi would’ve liked the extra coin, but as the officer in charge, he had to stay at his post. He pointed to one of the quicker subordinates.
"Not a problem at all."
"Thank you." Xue Guanhe cupped his hands and hurried to catch up with the group.
Lu Jianwei stepped into a small courtyard.
The layout was simple: the main house stood directly ahead, flanked by east and west wings—nothing elaborate.
Strings of garlic hung from the eaves alongside cured meat, giving the place a lived-in feel.
The victim lay sprawled across the threshold, half his body inside, legs out, eyes wide with terror, his face contorted in agony. His cheek pressed into a pool of blood, which seemed to contain flecks of shredded flesh.
In the past, such a gruesome sight might have shaken Lu Jianwei, but after studying countless anatomical models of horrific ailments, she was no longer the same person.
Just as she crouched to examine the body, a sharp voice barked from inside the house.
"Who told you to touch that? Get away from there!"
Lu Jianwei arched a brow and turned to Han Xiaofeng.
"My apologies, Innkeeper Lu," Han Xiaofeng said before glaring toward the interior. "Zhu Qiao, Innkeeper Lu was invited here to assist with the toxin analysis. Mind your manners."
"How impressive, Envoy Han," a lanky man sauntered out, his high cheekbones and narrow eyes dripping with disdain. "If you don’t trust this humble official, why summon me to this backwater in the first place?"
He held his chin high, not even sparing Lu Jianwei a glance.
Lu Jianwei: ?
*What gives a fourth-rank Azure-clothed Envoy such audacity?*
Han Xiaofeng, long accustomed to this behavior, remained stoic. "Have you discovered anything?"
Zhu Qiao scoffed, refusing to answer.
Despite his slender frame, his skin was fair and delicate, more befitting a pampered young master than someone exposed to the elements. His hairpiece and belt ornaments appeared plain at first glance but were in fact exquisitely valuable—even his boots exuded opulence.
No doubt this was his cheapest set of clothes, worn only to avoid soiling his finer attire during fieldwork.
Given his demeanor, he clearly came from privilege—hence his disregard for Han Xiaofeng.
Lu Jianwei wasn’t one to stand around and take insults.
Ignoring Zhu Qiao, she asked Han Xiaofeng, "How long have you been here?"
Han Xiaofeng: "We arrived the evening before last."
"Did you examine the previous five victims?"
"Of course."
"And from then until now, you still haven’t identified the toxin?"
"Correct."
"I see." She smiled faintly, her tone laced with implication. "Envoy Han, you’ve gone to great lengths to bring me here."
Han Xiaofeng stifled a chuckle. "No need to mock me, Innkeeper Lu."
"What are you implying?" Zhu Qiao caught the sarcasm and bristled. "Han Xiaofeng, you brought a woman here to humiliate me?!"
"What’s wrong with being a woman?" Lu Jianwei’s gaze sharpened like a blade, each word a measured strike. "Unless your father was the one who carried you for nine months and birthed you?"
Zhu Qiao: "…"
His face flushed crimson. After sputtering for a moment, he finally spat out, "Shameless harlot!"
"I’m sure your mother would be so proud to hear that. What a filial son you are!"
Everyone: "…"
The courtyard fell dead silent, as if even the air had frozen.
*Innkeeper Lu is truly peerless.*
Zhu Qiao’s blood rushed to his head, throbbing with fury. "Women are only good for petty squabbles!"
"Don’t berate yourself. If your speech is unclear, it’s not your fault—perhaps you sinned grievously in a past life and had your tongue ripped out in the eighteenth level of hell before reincarnation. Tsk tsk, such a pitiful, dutiful son."
*"Pfft."* Xue Guanhe couldn’t help but burst out laughing before clapping a hand over his mouth.
Zhu Qiao, now beyond reason, shrieked incoherently, flecks of spittle flying.
"Han Xiaofeng, if you don’t throw her out right now, I quit!"
Han Xiaofeng’s expression shifted.
Despite Zhu Qiao’s insufferable personality, his expertise in pharmacology was genuine. The Bureau had no one else skilled in this field—his family had opposed his career choice, but his passion for the subject had driven him to join the Mystic Mirror Bureau regardless.
If he resigned, they’d have to rely on expensive freelancers for future poisoning cases, damaging their reputation.
Lu Jianwei read Han Xiaofeng’s hesitation and deduced Zhu Qiao’s importance.
She’d dealt with many arrogant specialists and knew how to handle them.
"If you still haven’t found the toxin after all this time, your pharmacology skills must be lacking. Maybe you’ve been planning to quit anyway—spare yourself the embarrassment."
Zhu Qiao snapped. "You’re spouting nonsense! Twisting facts! Slandering me!"
*At least he didn’t curse or resort to violence. One tiny redeeming point.*
*Only one.*
Lu Jianwei tilted her head. "Am I wrong? Then enlighten us—what *have* you discovered?"
"What would you know? This is a new toxin—it takes time to analyze! You… never mind, explaining would be wasted on you." Zhu Qiao sneered.
He suddenly felt foolish for arguing with a woman who probably couldn’t even read.
Lu Jianwei smirked. "Then tell me, Envoy Zhu, how many medicinal herbs and toxic substances exist in the world?"
"Hmph! Four thousand three hundred twenty-five herbs and two thousand eight hundred seventy-three poisons!"
He cast a smug glance at Lu Jianwei—asking him such a basic question was downright laughable.
Lu Jianwei continued, “Do you know about the banded-tail venomous scorpion in the Tashi Desert?”
Zhu Qiao: ?
“Have you seen the snow lotus on the Kunlun glaciers?”
Zhu Qiao: “……”
“Heard of the golden-winged venomous locusts in the Seven-Step Marsh?”
Zhu Qiao’s face paled.
Lu Jianwei scoffed lightly. “You don’t know a single one, yet you dare boast as if you’ve mastered all the medicinal herbs and poisons in the world. Little do you realize, there are countless unknown substances out there—your ignorance is simply due to your narrow-mindedness and isolation.”
“I’m familiar with over eight thousand seven hundred medicinal herbs and more than four thousand two hundred poisons, and even I wouldn’t dare claim these are all that exist. Han Xiaofeng said you excelled in this field, but to me, there are only two words for your so-called expertise.”
“Boss, what two words?” Xue Guanhe immediately asked.
Lu Jianwei replied airily, “That’s it?”
The others: ……
To murder a man’s pride was worse than killing him outright.
Zhu Qiao’s tongue curled with bitterness as he ground his teeth. “You’re spouting nonsense. I don’t believe you.”
He had studied medicine since childhood, pored over countless texts, and prided himself on knowing every herb and poison under heaven.
But what was this woman saying?
She claimed the number of herbs and poisons she knew doubled his own!
Impossible! Absolutely impossible!
Lu Jianwei ignored the arrogant fool and bent down to examine the victim’s poisoning symptoms.
Purple lips, bloodshot eyes—common signs of poisoning.
The victim had struggled desperately, his clothes disheveled and loosely draped over his body.
She examined the back of his neck, then looked deeper—sure enough, she found a reddish-brown blood spot.
“Envoy Han, please remove the victim’s clothing.”
Han Xiaofeng complied.
As the collar was pulled aside, revealing the corpse’s pallid shoulders and back, Xue Guanhe gasped.
“So many red spots!”
Patches of blood mottled the victim’s skin, likely caused by ruptured blood vessels from the toxin.
One could only imagine the agony he had endured before death.
“Were the other five victims the same?” she asked.
“Yes,” Han Xiaofeng nodded, then frowned. “But strangely, despite their suffering and desperate attempts to crawl out, none of the neighbors heard any cries for help.”
Lu Jianwei explained, “When blood vessels and organs rupture, the vocal cords are affected. He couldn’t make a sound. That it took him two hours to crawl from the bed to the threshold means the poison had already sapped his strength by the time it took effect.”
“How horrifying.” Xue Guanhe shuddered at the thought.
Lu Jianwei straightened. “Do the six victims share any common traits?”
“An innkeeper, a cloth merchant’s accountant, a restaurant chef, a wealthy family’s live-in son-in-law, and a scholar.” Feng Yan pointed at the corpse on the floor. “This one was a carpenter who ran a workshop in town.”
Whether in appearance, build, or background, the six victims had no obvious connections.
Lu Jianwei wasn’t a professional investigator—even the experts of the Mystic Mirror Bureau couldn’t crack this case, so she couldn’t unravel the killer’s motive at a glance.
But she did have some leads on the poison’s origin.
As she stood, her gaze caught a flash of red in the bedroom, and a faint floral scent teased her nose.
Earlier, the stench of blood had masked the fragrance.
She stepped inside. A vase sat on the bedside table, holding a single crimson flower—radiant and striking.
Its petals were broad and luxurious, the golden stamens gleaming against the vibrant red.
Strangely, the room also held an ornate bronze mirror and a cosmetics box.
“Was this man married?” she asked.
Han Xiaofeng looked to Feng Yan, who quickly answered, “Our investigation confirmed he had a wife, but this wasn’t their shared residence. It was… his mistress’s home.”
“A mistress?” Han Xiaofeng’s heart skipped a beat. “Check if the other victims also kept mistresses.”
Of the six cases, only this one had died in his mistress’s quarters, so he hadn’t considered the possibility before.
“Understood!” Feng Yan left to question the constables.
Lu Jianwei asked, “Where is the mistress?”
The local constables had discovered the body first. The constable captain, Wang Zhi, stepped forward.
“A neighbor reported it to the yamen. When we arrived, the house was empty. She must have fled.”
“If the mistress was here when he was poisoned, why didn’t she cry out for help?” Lu Jianwei pressed.
Wang Zhi faltered, shamefaced.
Han Xiaofeng ordered, “Investigate.”
“Yes, sir!”
Lu Jianwei approached the vase, studying the dazzling petals for a moment. Just as she leaned in for a closer look, Zhu Qiao’s sullen voice cut in.
“I already checked. The flower isn’t poisonous.”
Lu Jianwei turned. “Oh?”
“I tested it! It’s not toxic!” Zhu Qiao snapped, eager to prove himself. “If you don’t believe me, test it yourself!”
Lu Jianwei brushed a finger over the petal—soft and delicate.
“In the Western Regions, there’s a flower whose color rivals the dawn. Its blooming period is brief, but when preserved in a special solution, it never withers. Even in winter, it remains as vibrant as the day it bloomed.”
Zhu Qiao scowled. “What nonsense are you spinning now?”
“Have you ever seen a flower that blooms in winter? Do you know its nature? You dismissed a crucial clue just because you deemed it ‘non-toxic.’ You’d be better off inheriting your family business than making a fool of yourself here.”
Zhu Qiao was growing immune to her sharp tongue.
Instead of flying into a rage, he countered, “Then enlighten us. What is this flower? What are its properties? What clues can you even gather from it?”
Han Xiaofeng cut in, “Boss Lu, do you really have a lead?”
“Yes.” Lu Jianwei pushed open the window, letting sunlight and snow glare into the room. “This flower is called ‘Morning Glory.’ It’s harmless on its own, but the solution preserving it is toxic.”
She turned back to Zhu Qiao. “You tested the flower. Did you test the water in the vase?”
Zhu Qiao: “……”
Han Xiaofeng signaled Wang Zhi, who promptly tipped the vase, catching a small amount of liquid in a clean cup.
The water was clear, indistinguishable from ordinary water.
Zhu Qiao sniffed it, then tested it with a silver needle. After a moment, he frowned. “Still no poison.”
The others: ???
Just then, Feng Yan returned. “Envoy, I’ve confirmed—all five victims had mistresses.”
“A mistress would naturally adorn herself, using cosmetics and perfumes,” Lu Jianwei explained. “The liquid in the vase evaporates. In winter, with windows shut tight, intimate contact—lipstick kissed, powder transferred—combines with the fumes to create a new poison.”
Zhu Qiao protested, “But the other five didn’t die in their mistresses’ homes!”
“Poison takes time to act,” Lu Jianwei said. “Envoy Han, how did you initially deduce that the victims died two hours after ingesting the toxin?”
Han Xiaofeng glanced at Zhu Qiao.
“Based on accounts from relatives and neighbors, the victims showed no symptoms before poisoning—they appeared perfectly healthy. We worked backward from the time of death,” Zhu Qiao said stiffly. “Most poisons ravage the body swiftly after entering, so…”
Lu Jianwei cut him off. “‘Jealous Beauty’ is different. Its victims don’t die immediately.”
“But they still suffer terribly, showing other symptoms,” Zhu Qiao muttered. “Besides, the victims were all ordinary people. Who’d use such an exotic poison to murder them?”
"The Envy of Blossoms" was a poison specifically targeting martial artists of the jianghu.
If this toxin truly worked as the woman described—showing no symptoms after being administered, only to claim the victim’s life at a predetermined time—it was utterly bizarre.
Why go to such lengths?
“Shopkeeper Lu, is there an antidote for this poison?” Han Xiaofeng asked gravely.
Lu Jianwei replied, “I’ll do my best. But right now, our priority is catching the culprit.”
“Agreed.” Han Xiaofeng issued orders, “Investigate the residences of the other victims for traces of Morning Glory flowers. Find out where these flowers came from—and besides this mistress, check if any other concubines have gone missing.”
Feng Yan acknowledged the command.
“Shopkeeper, it’s getting late. Why not come to my home first for a meal before working on the antidote?” Xue Guanhe suggested.
Lu Jianwei nodded. “Alright.”
The three boarded an extravagantly ornate carriage and set off toward the Xue residence in the northern district of Moonview City.
This was Lu Jianwei’s first time entering the city. Earlier, she had rushed straight to the crime scene, with no chance to take in the sights. Now, she finally had a moment to observe.
She lifted the carriage curtain, admiring the quaint houses lining the streets. A person sweeping snow outside one home glanced up at the sound of hooves, then gaped at the sight of such a luxurious carriage pulled by majestic steeds.
Lu Jianwei stifled a laugh. The carriage of the Wen family’s wealthiest truly lived up to the phrase “flaunting extravagance in public.”
But as they turned a corner, a sudden chill crept down her spine.
Someone was watching.
