◎Breaking the Formation, the Martial Alliance Ransoms Hostages, a Sudden Emergence◎
The hall was lit with lamps.
The faint candlelight should have cast a hazy orange glow over the front courtyard through the windows.
But under the illusion of the concealment formation, the courtyard remained shrouded in darkness.
Lu Jianwei's voice carried a chilling tone.
"Tiao, wake them up."
Tiao set down the fire starter and went to the servants' quarters to administer medicine to the unconscious.
Having been exposed to various poisons since childhood, she had developed resistance to drugs. The sedative hadn’t affected her, though the insect chirps had dulled her senses. Only after hearing Lu Jianwei's voice did she fully regain clarity.
Realizing something was amiss in the inn, she lit the lamps.
Soon, Uncle Zhang and the others awoke, learning that someone had sabotaged the inn. They were filled with remorse and self-reproach.
Uncle Zhang sighed. "I'm useless—unable to ease the manager’s burdens, only adding to her worries."
"Me too. I couldn’t help at all," Yue Shu muttered, hanging his head.
Xue Guanhe clenched his fists. "These people are despicable."
"I’ll go check." Yan Feicang gripped his blade and rushed toward the main hall’s door.
As the door swung open, he was about to step out when—
"Wait!" Yue Shu stopped him.
Yan Feicang turned with a frown.
"Something’s off." Yue Shu stared at the eerily quiet courtyard. "Why is there no one?"
The others also grew uneasy.
"It’s a formation." Yue Shu, having studied esoteric arts for months, recognized the trick. "They set up an illusion barrier."
Xue Guanhe urged, "How do we break it?"
Yue Shu fixed his gaze on the courtyard, rapidly calculating in his mind. His fingers unconsciously dug into his pants as he mentally pushed himself—faster, faster.
But the formation master’s skill clearly surpassed his. Having only studied for a few months, how could he match someone with over a decade of experience?
The more he rushed, the deeper he fell into the opponent’s trap.
Upstairs, Lu Jianwei remained completely unfazed.
The six from the stables and the four accomplices were already pinned down—she had all the time in the world to let Yue Shu practice his skills.
"Take your time. Don’t panic."
Her gentle voice instantly soothed Yue Shu’s agitation. He steadied himself and focused entirely on dismantling the courtyard’s formation.
Xue Guanhe leaned toward Tiao and whispered, "I can’t see anything."
Tiao glanced at him but said nothing.
"You know medicine, Yue Shu can break formations, but me? I’m useless," Xue Guanhe muttered, his heart sour and heavy with shame.
"You can cook," Tiao said.
Xue Guanhe drooped further. "Besides that, I can’t do anything."
And only end up being a burden.
"Train. Grow stronger," Yan Feicang said. "Starting tomorrow, practice blades with me on the river."
"Alright!"
"Gen Palace, Li Position… no, no—" Yue Shu frowned. "It’s Kan Position. It should be…"
"Ze Shui Kun, Di Shan Qian," a mild voice interjected. "Try this."
Yue Shu’s eyes brightened, his mind clearing instantly—he had found the thread!
Closing his eyes, the inn’s true layout materialized vividly in his mind.
He had overseen its construction himself—every detail of this courtyard was etched into his memory.
A copper coin shot toward the Zhen Lei position. With a soft puff, a tear ripped through the barrier, moonlight spilling through the crack like frost over the courtyard.
"No wonder something felt off. There’s clearly a moon tonight, yet the courtyard was pitch black," Xue Guanhe realized.
Yue Shu hesitated with another coin.
Wen Zhuzhi’s voice came again.
"Listen carefully."
Channeling inner energy to his ears, Yue Shu focused on the courtyard’s sounds.
The horses in the stable breathed heavily—he could almost feel their warm, damp breaths. But something was wrong—their sounds should come from the stable, so why did they echo from the left front?
The coin flew out, shattering the formation’s core. Cracks spiderwebbed across the illusion, needing just one final strike to collapse entirely.
"Trust your instincts," Wen Zhuzhi said, like a patient guide. "You’ve learned concealment well—you just lack experience."
No one had ever affirmed Yue Shu like this before.
As a child, he struggled to break through cultivation levels. Swordplay eluded him. When he secretly studied craftsmanship, his father forbade it.
He had long believed himself a failure.
Only after discovering esoteric formations did he realize—there was something fascinating in this world. He became obsessed, burying himself in books whenever possible.
But he’d never had a chance to test his skills.
Now, the manager gave him the opportunity, and Wen Zhuzhi guided him patiently.
He couldn’t let them down.
Yue Shu opened his eyes, resolve burning brighter than ever. The formation seemed like a fragile glass dome now—one tap would shatter it.
Crash.
The illusion collapsed.
Moonlight flooded the courtyard in an instant.
Inside the walls, the six from the Martial Alliance and a lone rogue cultivator lay sprawled, blood staining the ground. Three other rogues remained trapped in their rooms.
Xue Guanhe cheered, "Yue Shu, you’re amazing!"
"It was Wen-gongzi’s help," Yue Shu said sheepishly, scratching his head. "Otherwise, I wouldn’t have cracked it so quickly."
"You’ve only studied for months!"
"Heh."
"Bring them all in," Lu Jianwei ordered from upstairs. "Tiao, dose them with Xunchangke again."
The group sprang into action—tying captives, administering medicine. Soon, the six stable intruders and four rogues were dumped unceremoniously in the main hall.
Apart from the soundly sleeping Earth-Diving Ghost, Starving Ghost, the black-clad female guest, the Red Cloud Peak disciples, and Yun Hui, everyone had gathered.
Liang Shangjun, the master thief, hadn’t succumbed to hypnosis or the drugs. He’d been watching, waiting for his chance.
If Lu Jianwei had fallen for the trap, he’d seize the moment to escape. If she dismantled their three-layered scheme, he’d lose nothing.
"Manager Lu, after tonight, no one would dare scheme against your inn again."
Lu Jianwei lifted a brow.
"Including you?"
Liang Shangjun feigned hurt. "I’ve never had ill intentions! Believe me!"
Lu Jianwei ignored him.
"Yue Shu did well earlier."
Yue Shu flushed at the praise. "Without Wen-gongzi’s guidance, I wouldn’t have pinpointed it."
Just then, A'Nai wheeled Wen Zhuzhi in.
"Of course! My lord can dismantle such crude tricks without even looking. What fools would dare challenge him?"
The formation master: "..."
A mouthful of blood choked in his chest, burning with humiliation.
"Thank you for breaking the formation, Wen-gongzi," Lu Jianwei said first, then asked, "How are you feeling?"
Wen Zhuzhi replied softly, "I was briefly affected but woke in time."
"The toxins in his body resist most drugs, though hypnosis nearly worked," A'Nai added.
Lu Jianwei nodded and turned to the ten captives on the floor. Her expression was cool, candlelight flickering in her eyes like hidden flames.
"I despise being disturbed at night."
The ten stiffened.
What was this demoness planning?
"Where did you get the antidote for Xunchangke?" Lu Jianwei tapped the armrest lightly. "Thousand Miles Pavilion? Black Wind Fort? Or some rogue cultivators who bought it?"
Previously at the inn outside Wangyue City, she had sold many antidotes. Perhaps some factions hadn’t administered them to their own people but kept them in reserve instead.
No one answered, but their expressions confirmed her guess.
The Martial Alliance’s influence was indeed formidable. Even after so much time had passed since the incident in Fengzhou, they had still managed to procure six antidotes.
Lu Jianwei couldn’t be bothered to dig deeper into the exact origins of the antidotes and continued, "You’re not members of the Martial Alliance. Why did you come to rescue their disciples?"
Still, no one responded.
It wasn’t that they didn’t want to answer—they simply didn’t dare.
The hall fell into silence.
An invisible pressure filled the room, and everyone could tell that Innkeeper Lu was in an extremely foul mood.
The air grew so thick it was hard to breathe.
"In that case, I’ll cripple your martial arts, sever your meridians, and shatter your dantians, ensuring you live the rest of your lives in wretched misery."
Lu Jianwei’s tone was soft, yet it sent chills down their spines.
"And it won’t just be the four of you. The Martial Alliance disciples will suffer the same fate."
She extended her fair, slender hand, revealing a pitch-black pill resting in her palm.
"Yu Jiansheng, out of respect for the Martial Alliance, I was initially inclined to let you off. But you’ve provoked me again and again. Did you truly think I was some pushover who wouldn’t dare retaliate?"
Without needing instruction, Tiao took the pill and forced it toward Yu Jiansheng’s mouth.
"Once this pill enters your stomach, within ten breaths, your dantian will shatter, your meridians will rupture, and Yu Jiansheng will cease to exist in the Martial Alliance. You’ll vanish from the martial world forever," Lu Jianwei murmured ominously.
Yu Jiansheng’s eyes widened in terror.
No!
He had worked so hard to reach his current level of cultivation and make a name for himself in the martial world. He didn’t want to become a cripple!
Tiao pried his mouth open.
The pill was mere inches from his teeth.
He gasped frantically, his eyes bloodshot, pupils dilating wildly as he stared at Lu Jianwei like she was some terrifying demon.
The pill touched his lips.
No—
"Innkeeper Lu, please show mercy."
A sigh echoed from just beyond the courtyard, carried by threads of internal energy that reached everyone’s ears without disturbing the slumbering residents outside.
A master!
To control internal energy with such precision—even if his level wasn’t exceptionally high—his comprehension of techniques and martial skills far surpassed that of ordinary warriors.
Everyone tensed in caution.
Lu Jianwei reclined lazily in her chair, gazing toward the courtyard with mild amusement.
She had sensed him long ago.
Ever since the scent of the knockout drug had roused her, she’d noticed someone concealing their presence in the shadows near the inn—a sixth-level martial master.
And now, at last, he had revealed himself.
The newcomer stood outside the courtyard, his voice piercing through the gate.
"I am Chu Yutai of the Martial Alliance’s Literary Brilliance Hall. Might I request an audience inside?"
The six Martial Alliance disciples looked toward the voice as if seeing a savior.
Family!
Who cared if he was from the Literary Brilliance Hall? Out here, they were all kin!
Lu Jianwei replied coldly, "The inn is fully booked. We cannot accommodate you."
"I don’t need a room. Just a small corner of the hallway will suffice," Chu Yutai said, flicking a pouch of silver into the hall.
Yan Feicang caught it and counted the contents.
"One hundred taels."
"Consider it a deposit," Chu Yutai said. "Would Innkeeper Lu be willing to do business?"
Only then did Lu Jianwei allow a faint smile.
"Come in."
The courtyard gate slowly swung open, revealing no one behind it.
Chu Yutai was equally astonished.
Lower-level martial artists might assume that reaching the sixth level allowed one to manifest internal energy and manipulate objects from a distance.
But those who actually reached that level knew how far they still were from such mastery.
At the very least, neither Yan Feicang nor Chu Yutai could do it.
Nor could the Martial Alliance disciples.
Given that the inn was fully occupied and no other martial artists were present—who, then, had opened the gate?
Could it truly be this young female innkeeper?
Chu Yutai was grateful he hadn’t underestimated her.
Suppressing his shock, he stepped into the hall.
A man in his early thirties, refined in appearance and tall in stature, dressed in a dark blue robe with wide sleeves. In his hand was a brush—its shaft forged from steel, its bristles fine and dense, made of some unknown material.
At first glance, he looked like a frail scholar.
"Innkeeper Lu, my apologies for the intrusion," Chu Yutai said with a cupped-fist salute.
Lu Jianwei wasted no time.
"Here to rescue them or ransom them?"
Chu Yutai smiled wryly. "I arrived in Jiangzhou City at dusk, intending to negotiate their release tomorrow. I never expected someone to act first, attempting to smuggle them out tonight. This was not my doing—I hope you’ll forgive the offense."
"Then who was it?"
Chu Yutai shook his head helplessly. "I received no word of this."
The four freelancers knelt with their heads bowed, not daring to look up.
Liang Shangjun suddenly spoke up. "Innkeeper Lu, have you heard of the martial world’s bounty notices?"
"No."
"Bounties come in two forms—public and secret. The issuer posts tasks for martial artists to complete in exchange for rewards. Many freelancers make a living this way."
Lu Jianwei arched a brow. "Are you saying these four took a secret bounty from the Martial Alliance to rescue their disciples?"
"Very likely," Liang Shangjun mused, eyeing the four. "Each of them specializes in something—hypnosis, knockout drugs, formations… and you, what’s your skill again?"
"...I don’t have any. I’m just brave." If not for his courage, he wouldn’t have taken this job.
The Eight Directions Inn was terrifying.
The others exchanged exasperated glances.
Compared to the blood-soaked martial world, their innkeeper was practically gentle and merciful.
Lu Jianwei asked, "What’s the difference between public and secret?"
"If the issuer’s identity is known and the notice is open to all, it’s public. If the issuer is anonymous and the notice is distributed covertly, it’s secret."
"What does ‘covertly’ mean?" Yue Shu asked, confused.
Liang Shangjun lounged in his chair and scoffed. "Almost every sect has freelancers they regularly work with. In a way, these people act as the sect’s retainers, taking on tasks to further the sect’s interests."
Freelancers without sect affiliations either disliked the constraints of sect rules or lacked the qualifications to join one. To earn rewards, they partnered with sects, making a living this way.
Many shady dealings were carried out by sects through these proxies.
And if things went south, these freelancers made perfect scapegoats.
Yue Shu rubbed his arms. "That’s horrifying."
"What’s so horrifying?" Liang Shangjun poured himself tea. "It’s all driven by profit. Strip away the mystique, and it’s just rotten greed underneath."
Lu Jianwei thought: This young man’s worldview is a bit bleak.
"Surely sects keep records of such people?" she pressed. "Martial Master Chu, are you truly unaware?"
Chu Yutai answered plainly, "To be frank, the Literary Brilliance Hall does collaborate with freelancers, but these four are not on our roster."
"So you have no proof they aren’t the Martial Alliance’s proxies?"
"None."
Lu Jianwei smiled. "Since they’re so devoted to rescuing Martial Alliance disciples, I’ll consider them as such. Any objections?"
"None," Chu Yutai conceded readily. "My apologies for the embarrassment."
"Why should I laugh at you?" Lu Jianwei raised an eyebrow. "You've traveled a thousand miles just to deliver yourselves to me. I couldn't be happier."
Chu Yutai shook his head with a sigh. "Manager Lu, spare me your sarcasm. Name your price."
"Two hundred thousand taels per person," Lu Jianwei declared. "The Martial Alliance must publicly clarify the cause of this incident. Whoever threw the mud must clean it up. I still have a business to run—I won’t tolerate slander."
Chu Yutai hesitated. "Isn’t that... a bit steep?"
"Yu Jiansheng slandered me, and the other five tried to kill me. With just six pills, I could turn them all into cripples. Keep arguing, and you’ll be dragging six useless men back. Then, whether the Celestial Vanguard Hall resents me for drugging them or blames you for deliberately undermining them... well, that’s anyone’s guess."
Chu Yutai: "..."
Those fools from the Celestial Vanguard Hall had the audacity to let the Literary Brilliance Hall handle the negotiations while scheming behind their backs—utterly disrespectful.
If not for the bigger picture, he’d have gladly left them all as cripples.
"Fine. Two million taels it is." He produced a seal. "This will grant you access to the funds at any bank."
Lu Jianwei: "No seals. Too troublesome."
"Then I’ll return tomorrow." Without so much as a glance at Yu Jiansheng and the others, Chu Yutai clasped his fists and left.
Lu Jianwei ordered, "Tie them up in the stables."
The ten men were on the verge of tears.
For Yu Jiansheng and his five companions, things weren’t so dire—they were disciples of the Celestial Vanguard Hall. At worst, they’d face some punishment but could still rely on the Martial Alliance for survival.
The freelancers, however, had it worse. Failing this mission meant losing the Alliance’s backing and struggling to secure future bounty jobs.
By mid-morning the next day, Chu Yutai arrived with the payment.
The Earth-Diving Ghost leapt down from the third floor, circling Chu Yutai with a grin. "So it’s Elder Chu of the Martial Alliance! Starving Ghost, we really came at the right time!"
"Rare to see the Martial Alliance in such a fix," the Starving Ghost floated down like a sheet of paper. "I want a front-row seat."
Everyone: "..."
The taunt cut deep.
Chu Yutai clasped his hands. "Spare me the mockery, brothers."
Just then, Yu Jiansheng and the others were dragged out of the stables.
"Ugh, they reek!" The Earth-Diving Ghost pinched his nose but couldn’t look away.
What a spectacle—Martial Alliance disciples reduced to such a pitiful state.
Chu Yutai had prepared for this.
He handed over the two million taels as compensation, then loaded Yu Jiansheng and the five into carriages. Three carriages in total—at least the enclosed compartments spared them further humiliation.
As for the four freelancers, they were no concern of the Literary Brilliance Hall. Paying their ransom was charity enough.
He said, "Manager Lu, name your price for the antidote for the freelancers."
Lu Jianwei: "The Martial Alliance has its own antidotes. Why buy mine?"
"One thousand taels per pill," Chu Yutai stated flatly.
He didn’t want to spend the money, but with six useless men in tow, he couldn’t guarantee their safety on the road to Luozhou. Antidotes would speed up their return.
Big factions had deep pockets.
Lu Jianwei had no reason to refuse.
"How many?"
"Six," Chu Yutai said coldly.
After collecting six thousand taels, Lu Jianwei handed over the antidotes and watched her wealthy client speed away.
The four freelancers remained, kneeling and begging for the antidote.
"One thousand taels per pill."
They emptied their pockets, scraping together the money. If they hadn’t been desperate, they wouldn’t have taken this job in the first place. Now, they’d lost everything.
From now on, they’d steer clear of the Eight Directions Inn.
"Finally, they’re gone," Yue Shu muttered. "The horses barely had room to rest."
"Right? And we had to feed them too," Xue Guanhe added.
Lu Jianwei returned to her room.
The two million taels went straight into the inn’s account, instantly replenishing last night’s expenses and multiplying the balance tenfold.
That sum could upgrade both props to level eight—but without funds to sustain their use, it wasn’t worth it yet.
The antidote sales added ten thousand taels to her personal account.
At this rate, going home didn’t seem impossible.
She could only hope more reckless fools would come along to pad her savings.
Three days later, the Martial Alliance issued a public statement, declaring the conflict between its disciples and Manager Lu of the Eight Directions Inn a "misunderstanding" that had been resolved.
A face-saving gesture for their members.
The inn’s staff scoffed at the announcement, but most in the martial world were stunned.
The Martial Alliance and a mere inn mentioned in the same breath?
The former was a sacred institution—the latter, what? An inn!
How could an inn possibly warrant the Alliance’s public clarification?
Not everyone had followed the Zhou family massacre case. Most had never even heard of the clash between the Alliance’s disciples and Lu Jianwei.
Now, the "Eight Directions Inn" was thrust into the spotlight—by the Martial Alliance itself.
Overnight, martial artists everywhere were asking about the inn and Lu Jianwei.
The dark histories of the Thousand Miles Tower and Black Wind Fort were dredged up, and Yu Jiansheng’s misdeeds became fodder for gossip.
The Alliance lost some face, but what sect’s young disciples hadn’t erred before?
By issuing the statement, they’d actually bolstered their image—showing accountability and magnanimity.
As for the Eight Directions Inn?
They’d just been lucky to encounter the Alliance’s generosity. Had it been any other sect, the inn would’ve been wiped off the map.
This narrative quickly gained traction.
Xue Guanhe, returning from a market trip, fumed after overhearing the talk.
"Who got under your skin?" A'Nai leaned against a pillar, arms crossed. "You’re pouting hard enough to hang a oil jug."
Xue Guanhe vented about the rumors, his anger cooling slightly as he spoke. "They’re going too far! The Martial Alliance started this, but now everyone’s saying we went too far and the Alliance was gracious to let it slide."
A'Nai sighed.
Xue Guanhe: "What’s that supposed to mean?"
"You need to get out more. Rumors like these are nothing."
"But it’s slander!"
"A little mudslinging? Try entire families slaughtered without justice."
"...True," Xue Guanhe conceded. "The Zhou case still hasn’t been solved."
"The Alliance just paid the ransom—they wouldn’t act so blatantly now," A'Nai muttered, then added, "But your Manager Lu didn’t lose out. She’s famous now."
"Not for good reasons."
"Not everyone’s blind or deaf."
"Really?"
"Really," A'Nai smirked. "Though few are as gullible as you."
"Get lost!"
Elder Ge of Red Cloud Peak had also been gathering intel. The Alliance’s announcement eased his mind—while not entirely honorable, it signaled they wouldn’t target the Eight Directions Inn for now.
Seeking treatment from Manager Lu wouldn’t draw the Alliance’s wrath.
After the internal energy purge, Luo Sheng recovered swiftly. Within days, he could walk again.
Upon learning Lu Jianwei had saved him, he struggled up and bowed deeply in gratitude.
During his coma, Luo Sheng was not entirely unaware of the outside world.
The constant pain in his dantian and meridians, coupled with the endless suffering and hopeless treatments, nearly crushed his will to live.
If the end result was to become a cripple, he would rather end this torment early.
They sought help from the physicians of Red Cloud Peak, but the physicians were powerless. They then turned to the high-ranking elders of their sect, but the elders refused to take the risk. Desperate, they pleaded with the Divine Physician Valley, only to be politely declined.
It wasn’t until Lian Huan made up her mind to travel to Jiangzhou that hope flickered once more for Luo Sheng.
For him, this was the last glimmer of salvation.
And he was saved.
A life-saving favor—how could he ever repay it?
The afternoon sunlight spilled into the courtyard.
With the support of his junior brother, Luo Sheng took slow, unsteady steps through the front yard.
Suddenly, a woman dressed in black blocked his path.
She was a guest staying at the Eight Directions Inn.
Her face was gaunt, her eyes sunken and sharp, giving her a harsh, unapproachable demeanor.
She scrutinized Luo Sheng from head to toe, yet remained silent for a long while.
"Esteemed senior, is there something you require?" Luo Sheng asked politely.
The woman replied coldly, "Stretch out your hand."
"What for?"
Impatient, she grabbed his wrist without warning, sending a surge of internal energy probing through his meridians.
Luo Sheng stiffened in shock, ready to resist—but just as quickly, the energy vanished, and she released him.
"So it’s truly healed."
At first, she frowned—then a trace of delight flickered in her expression.
Without another word, she turned and strode toward the main hall.
