◎Manager Lu Is Truly Formidable◎
"Jiangzhou?" Yue Shu's voice tightened. "Manager, you're really planning to open a shop in Jiangzhou?"
"It's under consideration," Lu Jianwei said frankly. "I'm not familiar with Jiangzhou, so I called you and Uncle Zhang here to ask. If I do go, I might send you two as the advance team. Are you willing?"
Willing? Of course he was willing!
Yue Shu's face flushed with excitement, his heart pounding wildly.
He had been away from home for so long, dreaming of returning to pay respects to his deceased parents and the innocent victims of the manor massacre.
But he had vowed to work as a servant in the inn for life and couldn't break his promise, so he had never shown his longing.
Uncle Zhang understood him best.
"We'd be overjoyed if you opened a shop in Jiangzhou, Manager. Just give us your orders. Though the manor lord is gone, White Crane Manor still has some connections. Opening a shop won't be difficult."
Back when the massacre happened, no one had stepped forward to help—but that was because the situation was too horrific, and people naturally didn’t want to get involved.
Now, if the descendants of White Crane Manor returned merely to open an inn, their old acquaintances surely wouldn’t refuse to lend a hand.
Lu Jianwei asked, "Are there any powerful sects in Jiangzhou?"
"Jiangzhou is prosperous and densely populated, but there are hardly any truly formidable sects. Most major sects are semi-reclusive, preferring remote mountain areas. The sects in Jiangzhou pose no real threat."
White Crane Manor had been one of the larger forces in Jiangzhou, on par with Leisurely Cloud Manor on the surface. The remaining minor factions wouldn’t be able to compete with the inn’s strength.
Lu Jianwei now had a clear picture.
Jiangzhou it was!
"Jiangzhou borders Nanzhou. Tomorrow, the Golden Blade Trading Company and Young Master Wen will be returning to Nanzhou, so you’ll be traveling the same route. Pack your things and set off with them tomorrow."
A larger group meant safety, and few would dare provoke the Golden Blade Trading Company given its reputation.
Yue Shu felt like he’d been handed a gift from heaven.
He hadn’t expected to return home so soon!
"Manager, I’ll secure a prime location with excellent feng shui and bustling energy!" He clenched his fists in determination. "I’ll make sure the shop is an exact replica of this one!"
Lu Jianwei appreciated his enthusiasm and nodded with a smile.
"In that case, go pack your belongings. I’ll arrange the funds for the inn’s construction later."
The two left for their rooms.
Suddenly, the courtyard gate was knocked upon, followed by a deep voice: "Manager Lu, Han Xiaofeng presumes to disturb you."
Xue Guanhe was in low spirits but dared not show it. He hurried to open the door.
"Envoy Han, please come in."
Han Xiaofeng strode inside and presented a small box to Lu Jianwei.
"Manager Lu, Hu Jiumiang has been executed. The money she stored in the bank has been confiscated by the treasury. Without your invaluable assistance in this case, it might have... This is a token of gratitude from the Mystic Mirror Bureau. Please accept it."
Lu Jianwei took it. "You’re too kind."
"Han must return to the capital to report. Farewell." Han Xiaofeng clasped his hands. "Manager Lu, I hope we meet again someday."
Lu Jianwei smiled. "If fate allows."
Han Xiaofeng came and went like the wind, leaving behind only the lightweight box.
Inside were three thousand taels, likely a portion of Hu Jiumiang’s confiscated assets.
A pleasant surprise, indeed.
As Lu Jianwei turned, she saw Yue Shu approaching with a longsword in hand.
"Manager, this is the sword you lent me earlier. My swordsmanship is too poor to do it justice. Now that I’m heading to Jiangzhou, I’m returning it to you."
"What a fine blade!"
Jin Poxiao, as the young master of the trading company, had seen countless rare treasures, including many famous swords, yet this one still took his breath away.
Though sheathed, the sword exuded an unmistakable sharpness—like frost biting the skin, like endless snow.
"Manager Lu, may I take a closer look?"
Lu Jianwei nodded. "Be my guest."
Items from the system’s marketplace existed in this world, and since this sword was sold there, it meant its craftsmanship didn’t exceed the era’s forging capabilities.
Yet this was merely a five-tael sword.
Had blacksmithing skills declined, or was the weapon monopoly too severe?
Jin Poxiao unsheathed the sword in the courtyard. With a crisp ring, the gleaming blade reflected blinding sunlight—hard, resilient, nearly flawless.
The rest of the trading company’s entourage was equally astonished.
Zhao Jiang remarked, "This sword is no ordinary weapon. Which master crafted it?"
"I brought it from my sect." Lu Jianwei was deliberately vague, letting them speculate.
"Your sect has such skilled artisans?" Zhao Jiang’s eyes shone with admiration, his merchant instincts kicking in. "If sold through our company, it would fetch at least ten thousand taels."
Lu Jianwei smiled without comment.
Selling weapons wasn’t out of the question, but she aimed for sustainable growth. Now wasn’t the right time.
She had to take things step by step. One day, she’d save enough to buy the dimensional travel item that could take her home.
Jin Poxiao swung the sword a few times, thoroughly impressed. Spotting a familiar figure, he paused and grinned. "Brother Wen, you’ve finally emerged! Care to test this blade?"
"Mn." Wen Zhuzhi’s gaze shifted from the sword to Lu Jianwei. "Manager Lu, may I?"
Lu Jianwei nodded. "Go ahead, Young Master Wen."
"Manager Lu might not know this, but Brother Wen is a connoisseur of weapons, especially swords and sabers," Jin Poxiao said, handing the sword over. "Here you go."
Lu Jianwei raised a brow. First, the art of formations, now weapon appraisal—Young Master Wen had quite the repertoire.
But it wasn’t surprising. The wealthy had access to endless luxuries, and with such exposure, becoming an expert was only natural.
Unlike the poor, who struggled daily for survival—who had the means to dabble in connoisseurship?
Wen Zhuzhi cradled the sword, running his fingers along the blade.
"The pattern-welding technique is exquisite—folded steel core-wrapped construction."
"Truly?" Jin Poxiao marveled. "I heard this method rarely produces double-edged blades. The craftsmanship demands are extreme."
Wen Zhuzhi smiled. "I’m certain."
"What’s pattern-welding? And what’s folded steel core-wrapping?" Yue Shu asked curiously.
"Pattern-welding involves repeatedly forging different steels together, creating feather-like grain," Jin Poxiao explained. "As the saying goes, 'good steel for the blade’s edge.' Wrapping hard steel around softer steel to form a sharp edge is called core-wrapping. If the steel is folded before wrapping, it’s folded core-wrapping."
"Is it difficult?"
"Incredibly so!" Jin Poxiao grew animated. "This method is usually reserved for single-edged sabers, not double-edged swords. The latter’s complexity means even the finest smiths can’t guarantee success."
Yue Shu, encountering this knowledge for the first time, was enthralled.
"Then how are ordinary swords made?"
"Edge-steel inlaying—multiple blades can be forged at once, keeping costs low. Or sandwich steel, simpler in technique but pricier in materials."
"Are they inferior to folded core-wrapping?"
"Naturally. A blade’s elasticity and resilience are crucial, and the latter two can’t compare. The first is a rarity—its craft nearly lost to time."
Yue Shu exclaimed in awe, “This is truly remarkable!”
He had initially thought the sword looked extraordinary, but he hadn’t realized just how extraordinary it was.
Lu Jianwei mused to herself: *Another door to a new world has opened.*
She didn’t understand the principles behind it—she had simply bought the sword on a whim. Yet, by chance, she had encountered an expert who immediately recognized its uniqueness.
Jin Poxiao casually praised, “The sect behind Innkeeper Lu must be truly exceptional.”
It stood to reason—how could an ordinary place produce such a young, top-tier master?
Not to mention, Lu Jianwei was also skilled in curing rare poisons.
Mastering even one skill was no small feat, but for someone to excel in multiple disciplines like her? Only a family or sect with profound heritage could nurture such talent.
Lu Jianwei: “……”
*The more they talk, the harder it is to explain.*
Even Jin Poxiao didn’t dare handle such a precious sword carelessly. He returned it to Lu Jianwei with great care.
She took it back and retreated to the third floor.
*Should I study the art of sword-making too?*
*No, better focus on mastering medicine first.*
*Too much at once will only lead to half-baked results.*
As noon approached, Xue Guanhe was busy cooking in the kitchen, with Yue Shu assisting him.
Though young, Yue Shu had experienced much in recent times, witnessing the fickleness of human nature. His sensitivity allowed him to immediately notice Xue Guanhe’s distraction.
“Brother Xue, are you upset?”
Xue Guanhe blinked, then shook his head with a forced smile. “No, why would I be?”
“But you’re holding vinegar, not soy sauce,” Yue Shu pointed out.
Having spent enough time in the kitchen, he knew every step of the recipes by heart.
Xue Guanhe’s hand jerked, nearly pouring vinegar into the pan. He hastily set the bottle down, but his clumsy movements knocked over the soy sauce instead—*CRASH!* The bottle shattered on the floor.
“Brother Xue, are you alright?” Yue Shu quickly set down the firewood and rushed over in concern.
Xue Guanhe suddenly punched his own head in frustration, his voice hoarse. “Look at these clumsy hands of mine!”
“Brother Xue, if something’s bothering you, you can talk about it. Don’t keep it bottled up.”
“I’m fine. Just grab me another bottle of soy sauce.”
“Oh, right away.”
Once Yue Shu left, Xue Guanhe took a deep breath, rubbing his cheeks to steel himself.
The commotion in the kitchen was loud enough for the martial artists in the inn to hear. A'Nai, ever curious, went to investigate.
“Why are you so distracted? Is it because I’m leaving soon, and you’ll miss me?”
Xue Guanhe rolled his eyes. “...Miss your sharp tongue?”
“I was trying to be nice, and this is how you repay me?” A'Nai fumed. “Seems like you’re destined to be nothing but a cook—utterly hopeless!”
Provoked, Xue Guanhe snapped, “*You’re* the hopeless one! What’s wrong with being a cook? I *like* cooking—what’s it to you? Why aren’t you leaving *today*? Spare me the sight of you!”
“You’re blind as it is! Can’t even tell when someone’s trying to help! Fine, if you’re going to be this petty, I’ll never bother with you again!”
“You just love stirring up drama—don’t act like you care! And I don’t *need* your concern. If you want to play the fool, go ahead!”
“Xue Guanhe!” A'Nai rolled up his sleeves. “After all the times I treated you like a friend, even discussing recipes with you—this is how you repay me? I ought to beat some sense into you!”
“Oh, so *you’re* the one I owe my conscience to?” Xue Guanhe’s temper flared beyond control. “Bring it on! Who’s afraid of who?”
Neither paid attention to the simmering pot as they brawled from the stove to the doorway—thankfully without using martial arts, just plain fists and kicks.
Yue Shu returned with the soy sauce and froze in shock.
Others, drawn by the noise, gathered to watch the two young men tussling.
“Brother Xue! A'Nai! Stop fighting!” Yue Shu set the soy sauce down and moved to intervene, but Jin Poxiao held him back.
“Let them. A little scuffle between lads never hurt anyone.”
Yue Shu fretted, “But fighting isn’t allowed in the inn!”
That snapped the combatants back to reality.
Xue Guanhe and A'Nai abruptly stopped mid-swing, scrambling to their feet and dusting off their clothes like nothing had happened.
“Haha, we were just messing around.”
“Yeah, just testing each other’s strength.”
Everyone: “……”
*Clearly, they’re terrified of Innkeeper Lu.*
“Do you smell something burning?” Yue Shu asked.
Xue Guanhe jolted. “My dish—!”
Lifting the lid revealed a charred mess.
Lu Jianwei had heard every bit of the kitchen drama but pretended otherwise, even delaying lunch without comment.
Xue Guanhe, however, grew increasingly uneasy.
He knew full well that nothing in the inn escaped the innkeeper’s notice. If she wasn’t reprimanding him for his mistakes… did that mean she’d given up on him?
*Why waste words on someone you’ve decided to abandon?*
The thought weighed heavily on him. While washing dishes, he dropped and shattered a plate. As he picked up the shards, one sliced his finger—blood welled up instantly.
The bright red droplets stung his eyes, making them burn.
*Is she really going to leave me behind?*
Uncle Zhang and Yue Shu were heading to Jiangzhou to scout for a new shop location. Once it was secured, Lu Jianwei would leave for Jiangzhou too.
*What about me?*
*Will she make me stay here to mind the inn?*
It wasn’t that he minded—he just felt… lost. Scared.
The techniques she’d taught him were more than enough to last a lifetime. He *should* be grateful. But he couldn’t help it—his frustration had spilled over, and he’d taken it out on A'Nai.
In the past, he’d never have dared act out like this under his “master’s” roof.
*Maybe she’s been too kind, and I’ve grown spoiled.*
As Xue Guanhe wallowed in self-reproach, A'Nai returned to his room with a bowl of medicinal soup, grumbling to Wen Zhuzhi.
“I tried to cheer him up, and he threw it back in my face! Some gratitude!”
Wen Zhuzhi countered, “That’s exactly how people feel when *you* get sarcastic.”
A'Nai: “...Whose side are you on?”
“You were the one who provoked the fight,” Wen Zhuzhi said mildly, sipping his soup. “I know you wanted him to vent. Xiao Xue is good-natured—he’ll realize your intentions later. But if you’d picked a fight with someone less perceptive, you’d have regretted it.”
A'Nai brightened. “You always understand me. I’m not stupid—I know exactly what kind of person Xue Guanhe is.”
“Yet you nearly broke Innkeeper Lu’s rules,” Wen Zhuzhi pointed out. “Aren’t you afraid of punishment?”
“If she punishes me, she’d have to punish her own disciple too. I’m not worried.”
Wen Zhuzhi set down his bowl, rinsed his mouth, washed his face, and dried his hands before speaking again. “Come. Let’s explain ourselves to Innkeeper Lu.”
“She already knows everything,” A'Nai muttered, reluctant.
“When you break someone’s rules, you apologize.” Wen Zhuzhi’s tone was gentle but firm. “Now.”
A'Nai mumbled, “Sounds like an excuse to me.”
“What was that?”
“Nothing!”
Lu Jianwei, having finished her meal, sat on the porch basking in the winter sun. The afternoon light was warm but not harsh, wrapping around her like a cozy blanket.
The Golden Blade Trading Company’s members bustled about, packing goods and preparing for departure, filling the air with lively chatter.
After tomorrow, the inn would be nearly empty.
"Manager Lu." Wen Zhuzhi wheeled his chair to a stop beside her. "Earlier, A'Nai got into a scuffle with Young Brother Xue, breaking the inn's rules. My apologies."
A'Nai lowered his head and muttered, "Manager Lu, I shouldn't have thrown the first punch. I'm sorry. But Xue Guanhe was acting really strange today—maybe you should ask him about it."
He had always been blunt, and Wen Zhuzhi was used to it, but even he couldn't help rubbing his forehead at this remark.
Lu Jianwei replied lazily, "Kids sparring is no big deal. Neither of you used internal energy, so no rules were broken. But I appreciate your concern."
"Manager Lu, he's young and speaks without thinking. Please don’t take it to heart," Wen Zhuzhi said earnestly.
Lu Jianwei suddenly asked, "How old are you, Young Master Wen?"
"Twenty-seven."
"You don’t look it." Her gaze swept over his face, and she teased, "Got any skincare secrets to share?"
Wen Zhuzhi: "..."
As everyone knew, the higher a martial artist's rank, the slower their body aged. Those who reached higher ranks at a younger age tended to look more youthful.
Take Lan Ling, for example—a sixth-rank martial artist nearing forty but appearing no older than thirty.
Wen Zhuzhi was a third-rank martial artist. By conventional wisdom, third-rank and below didn’t have any noticeable anti-aging effects, yet he looked barely past twenty.
So Lu Jianwei’s jab about his "youth-preserving secrets" wasn’t entirely unfounded.
To her surprise, Wen Zhuzhi actually pondered for a moment before answering seriously, "Early to bed, early to rise, a balanced diet, reading often, and a peaceful mind—that’s all it takes."
"..." Lu Jianwei was speechless.
A'Nai couldn’t resist asking, "Manager Lu, how old are *you*?"
Everyone had speculated about Lu Jianwei’s high rank, but no one had guessed she might be older because of an inexplicable intuition.
While high-level martial artists could maintain youthful appearances, fellow practitioners could usually sense each other’s approximate age.
Thus, Lu Jianwei’s enigmatic rank and seemingly young age left many in the martial world baffled.
Their guesses about her age never exceeded thirty.
No one dared ask for specifics—until now.
Lu Jianwei answered frankly, "Twenty-five."
"You’re really that young?!" A'Nai blurted out, drawing stares from the others.
With their keen hearing, everyone caught it clearly.
Manager Lu was only twenty-five!
Lan Ling abandoned her training mid-session, leaping down from the second floor to scrutinize Lu Jianwei in astonishment. "I thought you were at least twenty-seven or twenty-eight, even if not past thirty."
"Why?"
"Yan Feicang couldn’t beat you," Lan Ling said. "Don’t let his current sixth rank fool you—he only reached fifth rank at twenty-five, and even *that* was considered rare genius in the martial world."
Yan Feicang: "..."
Must he be dragged into this? The embarrassment was unbearable.
Lan Ling voiced what everyone was thinking: "You’re terrifying."
Lu Jianwei: "..."
Truthfully, she had also only reached fifth rank at twenty-five.
But that was a truth she couldn’t share.
The awe and admiration around her didn’t inflate her ego—instead, it weighed on her like an immense pressure.
She felt as though she were walking a razor-thin tightrope. One misstep, one exposed weakness, and she’d plunge into an abyss.
So, maintaining the façade was essential.
Since everyone already suspected she came from a powerful, mysterious sect, she might as well let them believe it. It might make potential enemies think twice.
Until she had absolute strength, she had to remain an enigma.
"I’m just an innkeeper," she said with a faint smile. "What’s so terrifying about that?"
Lan Ling pouted. "Manager Lu, do you really think those two idiots from Black Wind Fort are staying outside because they’re shy?"
Black Wind Fort had never been one to back down from trouble—usually, they were the ones stirring it up. As for Hei Hou and Hei Zhong, with their family’s influence and sixth-rank strength, they’d bullied plenty without hesitation.
Yet after all the humiliation they’d suffered at Eight Directions Inn, they hadn’t even dared to grumble. Wasn’t *that* proof of Lu Jianwei’s intimidation?
Lu Jianwei thought to herself: *If they knew I was only fifth-rank, they’d charge in here for revenge without a second thought.*
"You might want to focus on how you’ll escape Black Wind Fort’s encirclement instead," she said.
Lan Ling batted her lashes. "Isn’t that what you’re here for?"
Lu Jianwei raised a brow. "What if I leave?"
"Then I’ll follow you," Lan Ling declared. "Manager Lu, you wouldn’t abandon poor little me, would you?"
"..."
The others collectively rolled their eyes. A woman pushing forty begging a twenty-five-year-old for protection—where was the shame?
Just as Lu Jianwei was about to respond, her gaze abruptly sharpened, locking onto the left side of the courtyard.
Someone was coming.
As she turned, her peripheral vision caught Wen Zhuzhi also tilting his head slightly in the same direction—a subconscious reaction to sensing movement.
The newcomer was still far off. Aside from her, only Wen Zhuzhi had noticed.
She relied on her system. What was *his* secret?
Surely not third-rank perception.
About the time it took to drink a cup of tea later, hoofbeats echoed outside the courtyard. Everyone turned to look.
Experience had taught them that new guests often brought drama.
And who didn’t love gossip?
The rider halted outside the gate—a man in his thirties with a prominent hooked nose. His eyes swept the courtyard before settling on Lan Ling.
"Lan Ling, you’ve delayed long enough. The Tower Master has ordered your immediate return."
"..."
Silence. The group exchanged glances.
A'Nai, ever the one to break tension, asked, "Who’s this guy?"
Jin Poxiao cleared his throat. "That would likely be Elder Xia Huaigu of Thousand Miles Tower."
"Oh." A'Nai nodded, then smirked at Lan Ling. "He’s here for *you*. Aren’t you going to answer?"
Lan Ling shot him a glare. *Little brat, stirring the pot like it’s nothing.*
"Old Donkey Xia," she sneered, "what are *you* doing here?"
Xia Huaigu’s face darkened. "Lan Ling, you killed Chai Kun. This time, you’ve crossed a line. If not for the Tower Master’s orders, I wouldn’t bother with you. Do you dare defy him?"
"*I* killed Chai Kun? Ridiculous!" Lan Ling’s voice turned icy. "Old Donkey Xia, when I was serving as a Tower elder, you were still hiding in some backwater. Who are *you* to accuse me?!"
Xia Huaigu scoffed. "How would *I* dare falsely accuse Elder Lan? See for yourself!"
He produced a token and held it aloft.
"By the Tower Master’s decree, will you disobey?"
Lan Ling’s pupils constricted. "I don’t believe it. Did the Tower even investigate?"
"Of course," Xia Huaigu retorted smugly. "But with no evidence proving your innocence, stop lying. Out of respect for your years of service, the Tower Master is willing to plead for leniency from Black Wind Fort on your behalf."
Lan Ling stared at him, chest heaving.
"What does that mean?"
Xia Huaigu smirked. "It means the Tower Master will offer Black Wind Fort generous compensation to spare your life. You should be grateful."
Everyone: ???
*This* was their idea of justice?
