No Fighting Allowed in the Inn

Chapter 39

The gates of the Xue Family mansion were thrown wide open, with servants standing in neat rows.

Xue Pingshan and his wife stood at the entrance, eagerly looking down the street, while the steward lingered slightly behind, craning his neck in anticipation.

"It's been so long since we've seen Guanhe. I wonder if he’s grown thinner or taller, and how his martial arts training is coming along," Madame Xue murmured, clutching a handkerchief, her voice trembling with nervous excitement.

Xue Pingshan patted her hand reassuringly. "Didn’t he write in his letter? He said he was doing well—Manager Lu and the other seniors have treated him kindly. He’s already a second-rank martial artist now and has even mastered a formidable saber technique."

"I know, I just... can’t quite believe it," Madame Xue admitted, her lips curving into a relieved smile. After so many past hardships, her worries were hard to shake.

"The carriage is coming!" the steward suddenly exclaimed, his face lighting up. "Master, Madam, look—isn’t that the young master driving the carriage?"

"It’s him! No doubt about it!" Madame Xue hurried forward a few steps, squinting before breaking into a grin. "He does look a little leaner, but his spirit seems strong."

Xue Pingshan puffed out his chest with pride. "Martial artists are meant to be lean and tough. Our Guanhe has truly become a warrior now."

The carriage pulled up swiftly, stopping right before the gates of Xue Mansion.

Xue Guanhe leaped down and called out brightly, "Father! Mother! I’m home!"

"Welcome back, welcome back!" Madame Xue beamed, her heart swelling with gratitude toward Lu Jianwei as she took in her son’s vibrant energy.

He had truly found a great master.

"Guanhe, and who might this be?" Xue Pingshan turned respectfully toward the elderly man accompanying him.

The man stroked his beard with a smile. "This humble one is Zhang Gaozhu. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Master Xue."

"Senior Zhang! Your reputation precedes you—this is an honor!" Xue Pingshan replied, nearly flustered with reverence.

Xue Guanhe blinked in surprise. So Zhang Bo’s real name was *Gaozhu*? This was the first time he’d heard it.

The same realization seemed to dawn on Lu Jianwei inside the carriage, who remained silent for a moment.

At the inn, Zhang Bo was the eldest among them. Yue Shu had always addressed him as "Zhang Bo," and the others had naturally followed suit. No one would have been so impolite as to call him by his full name, so the opportunity to learn it had never arisen.

"Master, we’ve arrived," Xue Guanhe reminded her from outside.

Lu Jianwei gathered her thoughts and lifted the carriage curtain.

The entire Xue household watched with rapt curiosity—they had all been eager to see what the young master’s renowned master looked like.

Rumors said Manager Lu was extraordinarily skilled, a master among masters. Would she be as towering and imposing as the martial heroes described in Jianghu tales?

A slender, porcelain-white hand emerged from behind the curtain, its delicate fingers a striking contrast against the deep crimson sleeves—like flawless jade paired with winter plum blossoms.

Her winter robes were primarily white, but the collar and cuffs were elegantly trimmed in red, while the hem was embroidered with lifelike plum blossoms that mirrored the hairpin tucked into her coiled-up hair. Every detail was perfectly balanced.

The onlookers couldn’t help but stare in awe—she was nothing like what they had imagined.

Madame Xue was the first to recover. She stepped forward eagerly, adopting an unusually formal tone. "Manager Lu, your presence today brings boundless honor to our humble home."

"Madam Fan, Master Xue, pardon the intrusion. I appreciate your hospitality," Lu Jianwei replied with a warm smile as she alighted gracefully from the carriage.

Madame Xue’s eyes sparkled.

Her maiden name was Fan, and her given name, *Mian*, meaning "soft," belied her bold and generous nature.

She owned several shops and was a shrewd businesswoman, always preferring to be called "Madam Fan" rather than "Madame Xue."

Already deeply grateful to Lu Jianwei for mentoring her son, Fan Mian felt an instant kinship at the respectful address and broke into a delighted grin.

"Manager Lu, it’s no trouble at all! I’m overjoyed you could come. I asked Guanhe about your favorite dishes and had everything prepared in advance—just waiting for your arrival!"

Lu Jianwei chuckled. "Then I’ll be sure to eat heartily."

"Absolutely!" Fan Mian enthused. "It’s cold out—please, come inside. I’ve had hot tea prepared. Manager Lu, Senior Zhang, do make yourselves at home."

With that, she linked arms with Lu Jianwei as if they were old friends and led her inside.

In the Qi Dynasty, people married young. Fan Mian had wed at fifteen, given birth to Xue Guanhe at sixteen, and was now just in her early thirties—only five or six years older than Lu Jianwei.

Age-wise, they could easily have been sisters.

But Fan Mian had never trained in martial arts and had spent years laboring over household affairs. Despite proper care, she appeared a decade older than Lu Jianwei, whose refined features and martial arts practice had only enhanced her youthful, almost ethereal beauty.

The contrast made them seem like they belonged to different generations.

The Xue father and son: ???

They hadn’t expected them to hit it off so well.

Xue Pingshan quickly turned to Zhang Gaozhu with a welcoming smile, and the group made their way inside.

Outside, the ornate carriage was led away by the coachman.

Xue Guanhe retrieved a leather satchel from the vehicle, its straps slung diagonally across his body—an unusual sight.

"Young Master, what is that?" his attendant A'gui asked curiously.

Xue Guanhe grinned. "My master’s medicine bag."

It was essentially a physician’s kit, but Lu Jianwei had found traditional cases too cumbersome and instead bought a waterproof leather shoulder bag from the system shop.

The Qi Dynasty already had leather goods, so a simple medical satchel wasn’t particularly eye-catching.

"Oh!" A'gui marveled. "So Manager Lu knows medicine too?"

"Of course! My master is skilled in *many* things!" he boasted. Then, "Which room was prepared for her? Take me there."

A'gui quickly guided him down a side path. "Right next to your courtyard, Young Master—very close!"

"Good."

The Xue family was warm and perceptive. Xue Pingshan and Fan Mian’s hospitality struck the perfect balance—enthusiastic without being overbearing, making their guests feel entirely at ease.

After tea and a satisfying meal, Lu Jianwei rose. "Madam Fan, your forthright nature makes me regret not meeting you sooner. But I still have urgent matters to attend to, so I must excuse myself for now."

Fan Mian knew she was investigating the serial poisoning case and wouldn’t dream of delaying her. She stood to see her off.

The courtyard the Xue family had prepared was serene and tastefully arranged—just to Lu Jianwei’s liking.

Once in her room, she purchased a vial of colorless poison and several boxes of rouge from the system shop.

In the Qi Dynasty, rouge was typically made from crushed safflower petals mixed with oils and other ingredients. The poison, when combined with morning glow flowers, preserved petals from decay—but when exposed to safflower, it transformed into a lethal toxin.

Lu Jianwei fed the rouge to a human model, then administered a few drops of the poison, waiting for symptoms to manifest.

The poison was volatile, so she sealed the vial tightly and stored it in her system inventory to prevent its fumes from lingering in the air.

Inhaled toxins would take days to accumulate before triggering a fatal reaction, whereas ingesting the poison outright would swiftly ravage internal organs.

The model’s condition deteriorated horrifically.

Lu Jianwei meticulously recorded the symptoms in her notebook. When the "patient" began vomiting blood, she swiftly inserted silver needles into key acupoints on the chest.

The bleeding slowed, and the organ damage stabilized slightly—but the needles were only a temporary measure.

She collected a sample of the tainted blood into a white porcelain bowl, diluted it with water, and watched as the liquid darkened faintly.

According to *Toxicology*, a certain shrub in the Western Regions secreted a sap that, when mixed with nearby wildflowers, became a deadly poison.

Therefore, such shrubs are often surrounded by the corpses of insects and beasts, creating a veritable zone of death.

Whenever the wind rises, the thicket emits mournful wails, like the cries of tormented spirits.

The locals call them "Wailing Ghost Shrubs."

Yet the sap of these Wailing Ghost Shrubs happens to be the perfect match for Dawnbloom Flowers. Just a tiny amount is enough to preserve the flower's initial brilliance.

Conventionally, poison and antidote often coexist, but the cure for Wailing Ghost Shrubs isn’t found among the surrounding flora or fauna.

Ironically, it’s the leaves of the Dawnbloom Flower that neutralize its venom.

Inside the vase, there was only a single Dawnbloom bloom—its leaves had all been plucked away.

Lu Jianwei had no choice but to purchase them from the system’s marketplace.

She searched for "Dawnbloom leaves" in the medicinal herbs section, and sure enough, the system had them in stock. But then she saw the price…

"Highway robbery!"

Little Ke: "Takes one to know one."

"Fifty taels for a single leaf? Isn’t that a bit excessive?"

"Dawnblooms have a short blooming period and are already rare. Securing these was no easy feat—consider the challenges of harvesting and transporting them all the way from the Western Regions," Little Ke sighed.

Lu Jianwei: "…Does the system even need to harvest and transport?"

Did he take her for a fool?

"You said it yourself—scarcity drives value," Little Ke retorted. "Even if you offered five hundred or five thousand taels, you wouldn’t find a single leaf on the open market."

Lu Jianwei understood the logic. She just wanted an excuse to vent.

She spent a hundred taels on two leaves.

But the leaves alone weren’t enough. The lethal toxin was formed by a chemical reaction between the sap of the Wailing Ghost Shrubs and that of Safflower plants, altering their original properties. Additional antidotal ingredients were required.

Lu Jianwei mentally sifted through her knowledge of detoxifying herbs, combining her expertise with the intuition of a seasoned healer. She selected three ingredients: the stamens of the Demonbloom Flower, the stems and leaves of Shadowgrass, and an entire Frost Lotus plant.

None of these came cheap. A single Frost Lotus alone cost five hundred taels. According to Little Ke, harvesting Frost Lotuses was far more difficult than gathering Dawnblooms. Moreover, Frost Lotuses bloomed only once every five years, making them even rarer.

The "patient’s" condition was worsening.

Lu Jianwei estimated the dosage, pinching off a fingernail-sized piece of Dawnbloom leaf, plucking ten delicate stamens from the Demonbloom, and mixing them with a whole stalk of Shadowgrass and half a Frost Lotus. She channeled her inner energy to grind them into powder, dissolving it in a bowl of water before administering it to the "patient."

Within ten breaths, the symptoms began to ease. By the time a cup of tea could be steeped, the patient’s furrowed brow relaxed, and they drifted into unconsciousness.

The medicine had taken effect, but the damaged organs would still need time to recover.

Lu Jianwei preferred to prepare for the worst. If a real patient needed treatment later, she couldn’t just hand them a pile of powder to swallow with water.

That would be far too inelegant.

She retrieved flour from her personal storage, mixed it with water in a bowl, and added an equivalent dose of the medicinal powder. Kneading it into three small white pills, she stored them in an exquisitely crafted porcelain vial.

As she put away the anatomical model and tidied her workspace, footsteps suddenly echoed outside her courtyard.

"Manager Lu, someone in the western district has been poisoned. The situation is urgent—could you spare the time to assist?" Han Xiaofeng stood beyond the gate, urgency lacing his words.

Without hesitation, Lu Jianwei agreed.

Stepping outside, she found Zhang Gaozhu and Xue Guanhe already waiting at the entrance, clearly intending to accompany her.

Xue Pingshan and Fan Mian hurried over as well, their faces tight with worry upon hearing of another poisoning.

What in the world was happening?

"Manager Lu, our family has horses. Riding will be faster."

A carriage would only slow them down now.

Lu Jianwei didn’t refuse.

She had learned horseback riding as a child and was quite skilled, though her family’s later financial ruin and mounting debts had robbed her of opportunities to visit equestrian grounds.

The Xue Family’s horses were well-bred, their coats glossy and sleek. The most imposing among them snorted irritably at the disturbance, clearly displeased with the late-night summons.

Lu Jianwei took an instant liking to it. Without a word, she mounted.

The horse, shrewd enough to recognize her competence, abandoned its tantrum and obediently carried her westward.

Along the way, Han Xiaofeng briefed her on the situation.

The victim was the young master of a soy sauce workshop in the western district. He had been indulging in the pleasure quarters when the poison struck, surrounded by witnesses, which allowed the authorities to respond swiftly.

By the time they arrived, the brothel was already cordoned off by constables. Zhu Qiao and Feng Yan stood beside the afflicted man, fists clenched helplessly.

Physicians from the city’s clinics could only shake their heads in resignation.

The young master’s parents and wife had arrived to find him contorted in agony, eyes bloodshot, barely able to whimper between bouts of bloody retching. Overwhelmed, they collapsed into desperate sobs.

Lu Jianwei strode into the building, the stench of poisoned blood assaulting her senses.

"Envoy Han, Manager Lu," Feng Yan greeted them. "It’s been nearly half an hour since the poisoning. Without an antidote, he’ll die."

Master Fan, the soy sauce workshop owner, dropped to his knees at the sight of the newcomers.

"Esteemed one, I beg you—save my son!" he pleaded, knocking his forehead against the ground. "This humble one will kowtow to you!"

His wife and daughter-in-law joined in the desperate supplication.

Han Xiaofeng exchanged a glance with Zhu Qiao, who gave a grim shake of his head.

"Envoy Han," Lu Jianwei said calmly, "I may be able to try."

Han Xiaofeng’s eyes lit up. "Manager Lu, please—proceed." Then, to the family: "Silence."

The wailing ceased instantly. They remained on their knees, hope burning in their eyes as they watched Lu Jianwei.

Zhu Qiao frowned. "You’ll try? How? Even if you know the source of the toxin, can you possibly procure an antidote in such little time?"

After Lu Jianwei’s earlier warning, he had realized the poison’s complexity. The source was rare enough—the antidote’s ingredients would be even harder to obtain.

He didn’t believe she could truly cure this.

With lives at stake, Lu Jianwei ignored him. She approached the young master and retrieved the porcelain vial from her sleeve, extracting one of the white pills.

"Bring me a bowl of water."

Xue Guanhan swiftly complied.

Lu Jianwei handed him the pill. "Feed this to him with water."

"Yes."

Xue Guanhan took the pill, crouching to place it in the young master’s mouth. Though racked with pain, the man’s mind was clear enough to recognize potential salvation. He eagerly accepted it.

Yet the flour-based pill stuck in his throat, clogged by congealed blood.

Xue Guanhan helped him wash it down.

The moment it took effect was almost miraculous. Within ten breaths, the searing agony dulled, replaced by a cooling relief that spread through his body. With a long exhale, his eyes fluttered shut.

"It worked!" Xue Guanhan marveled. "The medicine actually worked!"

The others stared in shock at the speed of the recovery.

The elderly physicians bowed deeply, reverence in their eyes.

They knew all too well that only a master of rare alchemical arts could counter such a toxin. They had resigned themselves to the man’s fate—yet here was a miracle.

"Greetings, Elder."

In their world, mastery commanded respect. That she was a young woman mattered not at all.

The family members knelt and kowtowed in gratitude, their thanks endless.

Lu Jianwei responded with graceful composure, "This poison is quite peculiar, and the ingredients I used were exceedingly rare."

Having spent several hundred taels of silver, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of regret.

The owner of the soy sauce workshop, ever the shrewd businessman, quickly caught her drift and eagerly offered his own proposal.

"Esteemed benefactor, your kindness is beyond repayment. Though my family possesses only crude worldly treasures, if you do not disdain them, I shall personally visit tomorrow to express our gratitude."

Lu Jianwei smiled amiably. "That will do."

She didn’t provide her address—Xue Guanhe would handle such trivial matters for her.

"May I ask, benefactor, though my son has taken the antidote and survived the poisoning, he has suffered greatly. What should be done now?"

Lu Jianwei replied, "Simply have a physician tend to him and restore his health."

"This humble one kowtows in thanks once more."

Zhu Qiao stood nearby, dumbstruck, unable to process what had just happened.

How was this possible?

How could she have concocted the antidote so swiftly? Had she even tested it? And where had she obtained those ingredients?

His mind was a tangled mess, utterly incapable of rational thought.

"Esteemed one, might we examine Young Master Fan?" one of the elder physicians cautiously inquired.

Only then did Lu Jianwei learn the victim’s surname was Fan.

She nodded indifferently. "By all means."

The physicians took turns checking Young Master Fan’s pulse, inspecting his eyes, and examining his mouth and nose. Finally, under Master Fan’s hopeful gaze, they confirmed, "Your son’s organs have suffered some damage, but fortunately, the treatment was timely. With proper rest and care, he will gradually recover."

The three members of the Fan family were greatly relieved.

Madame Fan burst into tears. "No matter how we warned him, he refused to listen—he insisted on visiting those pleasure quarters! Now look at the suffering he’s brought upon himself. Let’s see if he dares go again!"

She then turned to Young Madame Fan with remorse. "I failed in raising him properly. You’ve endured too much."

Young Madame Fan wiped her tears and whispered, "As long as my husband recovers, let us leave this matter in the past."

With the victim revived, Lu Jianwei decided it was time to rest.

Han Xiaofeng, still needed to wrap up the investigation, escorted her outside and spoke with heartfelt admiration, "Manager Lu, your skill is unparalleled."

No further praise was necessary—his respect was evident in his bearing.

Lu Jianwei turned to him. "The culprit remains at large. What are your plans?"

Han Xiaofeng understood her implication. "Do you have any suggestions?"

"The poisoner has claimed six lives so far, and the Mystic Mirror Bureau has yet to uncover any leads. He must be gloating in the shadows. But now that one victim has survived, his perfect scheme has a flaw. Do you think he’ll resist the urge to investigate for himself?"

Han Xiaofeng grasped her meaning.

The same thought had already crossed his mind, though he hadn’t fully committed to the idea. Lu Jianwei’s words solidified his resolve.

"My thanks for your guidance, Manager Lu."

She smiled lightly. "As long as you don’t consider me meddlesome."

"You jest, Manager Lu." Han Xiaofeng bowed solemnly. "During the White Crane Manor case, you protected the survivors and gave the Mystic Mirror Bureau a chance to solve it. Now, you’ve saved another life. The Bureau owes you a debt."

Lu Jianwei mounted her horse without ceremony.

"Officer Han, may you crack the case swiftly."

"Manager Lu." Han Xiaofeng bowed once more. "Earlier, Zhu Qiao spoke to you disrespectfully. That was my oversight—I failed to discipline him properly. I offer my sincerest apologies."

Lu Jianwei chuckled. "Officer Han, do remember—Lu Jianwei never works for free."

With a flick of her whip, she galloped away, disappearing into the night-shrouded streets.

Han Xiaofeng remained standing there, unable to suppress a wry smile.

Just how much of a bonus should he request from the Bureau this time?

The serial poisonings had thrown Moonview City into turmoil. Six deaths with no leads had eroded the people’s trust in the authorities. If this continued, the consequences would be dire.

Fortunately, Young Master Fan had survived.

News of his recovery spread quickly, lifting spirits across the city. If one victim could be saved, perhaps the poison wasn’t invariably fatal.

The constables had already discovered a pattern—all seven victims had purchased Dawnbloom flowers, and all had gifted them to their mistresses.

Young Master Fan, however, had given his to the top courtesan of a brothel.

The flower remained in her bedchamber, but the courtesan herself had vanished.

In fact, not just her—every single mistress linked to the victims had disappeared.

"The missing mistresses" became the talk of the town.

Some claimed they were already dead. Others insisted they had fled to avoid implication. A few wilder theories suggested this was a conspiracy by the wives—a joint effort to eliminate their husbands and mistresses, with the latter now enduring unspeakable torment.

Utter nonsense.

After a good night’s rest, Lu Jianwei awoke to find the Xue Family had prepared a lavish breakfast in her honor.

At the table, Fan Mian showered her with praise, her flattering words so extravagant they bordered on deification.

Even Lu Jianwei, thick-skinned as she was, found it slightly overwhelming.

Before long, Master Fan and Madame Fan arrived in person, presenting eight thousand taels in silver notes along with exquisite porcelain, fine silks, and other gifts as tokens of their gratitude.

The soy sauce trade was a low-margin business, and the Fan family’s workshop was modest—comfortable but not exceedingly wealthy. The near-ten-thousand-tael offering was the absolute limit of what they could afford.

Lu Jianwei accepted it without hesitation.

Her personal coffers were once again flush with over thirty thousand taels.

With the day free, Lu Jianwei decided to explore Moonview City, eager to unwind after months cooped up in the inn.

Zhang Gaozhu and Xue Guanhe accompanied her.

"Manager, the West Market has all sorts of interesting sights. Shall we head there?" Xue Guanhe, eager to play the gracious host, was determined to ensure his master’s satisfaction.

Lu Jianwei had no particular destination in mind—she simply wanted to clear her head.

They strolled leisurely through the streets, occasionally pausing to admire the curios on display at roadside stalls.

Upon reaching the West Market, the bustle grew livelier.

Xue Guanhe was well-known here, greeted by vendors at every turn, though none dared to stare too long at Lu Jianwei.

Word had spread—this was the formidable physician whom the Xue Family’s young master had apprenticed under. Last night, when every other doctor had been helpless against the poison, she had saved Young Master Fan with a single pill.

A miracle worker!

With such a master, Xue Guanhe’s future was assured, and the Xue Family would bask in the reflected glory.

The common folk kept their distance, stealing glances from the corners of their eyes, wary of offending the formidable trio.

An invisible barrier formed around them.

Lu Jianwei appreciated the space—it spared her the jostling crowds.

Amidst the cautious avoidance, a young girl carrying a flower basket approached Lu Jianwei, her presence starkly out of place.

She appeared around fifteen or sixteen, her hair braided into countless thin plaits. Her features were delicate, her skin unnaturally pale, her lips tinged faintly purple.

Her attire suggested foreign origins, but her face was unmistakably Central Plains.

Gaunt, with hollow cheeks and eyes that should have sparkled with youthful innocence but instead lay barren—lifeless as a desolate wasteland.

She extended the flower basket, her voice low and rasping, her tone detached yet delivering words that seemed incongruously playful.

"Miss, would you like to buy a flower for the sweetheart you admire?"

The basket held only a single bloom, its petals broad and vibrant, glowing like the colors of dawn.

Xue Guanhe and Zhang Gaozhu's pupils contracted sharply.

It was the Dawnbloom flower!

The two stepped forward warily, intending to block the young girl’s flower basket.

Yet Lu Jianwei merely smiled and said, "How curious to see such a radiant flower in winter. A pity I have no sweetheart to give it to."

The flower seller was momentarily taken aback before replying stiffly, "That’s alright. A flower this beautiful would look lovely by your bedside."

"But when it withers, wouldn’t that be heartbreaking?"

The girl stared at her deeply before finally speaking after a long pause. "No matter. I can give you a special water to keep the petals from decaying."

"Where is this water?"

"It’s in a bottle, but I forgot to bring it." Her excuse was flimsy, but her expression remained wooden. "You’ll need to come with me—it’s just in an alley nearby."

The words were clearly meant to lure someone into a secluded lane, but paired with her demeanor, the whole exchange felt awkwardly forced.

Had the previous victims not noticed anything amiss when buying flowers from her? Or perhaps, even if they had, they dismissed a young girl as harmless.

Only those blinded by lust or arrogance would purchase both the flower and its poison, sealing their own fates.

Lu Jianwei curved her lips.

"Alright."

Xue Guanhe and Zhang Gaozhu spoke in unison, "Manager Lu!"

"Wait here," Lu Jianwei said, as if entranced. "I’ll go with her."

The flower seller’s brow furrowed almost imperceptibly before her cold mask slipped back into place.

Lu Jianwei caught that fleeting reaction, piecing together a theory.

The girl’s odd behavior almost seemed like a warning.

A trap lay ahead—one that might very well be an open scheme.

The missing women had vanished without a trace, and the authorities were scrambling for leads. Now, with such a glaring clue before her, she couldn’t turn away.

Whoever was behind this had sent the flower seller out so brazenly—they must have something to rely on.

And that reliance was the hostages.

Lu Jianwei was no lone hero, but she was curious. From the moment she entered the city, someone had been watching her.

What were they planning?