No Fighting Allowed in the Inn

◎Grand Competition, Heart-to-Heart, Issuing a Challenge◎

The weapon customization slot was desirable, and the prize "White Hair" was also coveted—this grand competition couldn’t be abandoned halfway.

However, the collusion between the Carefree Sect’s leader and the master of the Thousand Miles Tower was now the more pressing matter.

"Shopkeeper Lu, these two matters don’t conflict," Zhao Xian said. "The competition can continue. First, we announce the news to the martial world, then gather experts from the major sects and head to Cangzhou together to demand an explanation from Helian Zheng."

Lu Jianwei smiled faintly. "Elder Zhao speaks wisely."

"Shopkeeper Lu, we still haven’t interrogated the man on the stage," Zhao Xian narrowed his eyes. "Helian Zheng sent him to steal the letters—he must be Helian Zheng’s trusted subordinate. We should dig out more information."

Xie Tongshu’s voice was icy. "Shopkeeper Lu, this matter concerns our sect’s reputation. A single person and a few letters aren’t enough to prove that our sect colluded with the Thousand Miles Tower. You’ve always been fair—surely you won’t jump to conclusions so easily."

This man might not have the best character, but his loyalty to his sect was commendable.

If Lu Jianwei hadn’t known about Xie Tongshu’s strained relationship with Helian Zheng, she might have thought he was defending Helian Zheng.

But in truth, Xie Tongshu didn’t mention Helian Zheng at all—he only wanted to distance the Carefree Sect from the scandal.

"Elder Xie also makes a valid point," she said casually. "Yan Feicang, interrogate him first."

Yan Feicang gave a slight nod and forced the letter thief to swallow a "Heart-Opening Pill."

"Who are you?"

"I am—" The thief paused, his face twisting briefly in pain before stiffly continuing, "I am Wu Ping of the Carefree Sect."

The others didn’t understand why, but Lu Jianwei knew.

Near Wu Ping’s heart was a puppet Gu parasite—a subordinate of the Gu Emperor.

Just like the gray-clothed assassin outside Dongliu City, he would suffer backlash from the Gu if he triggered certain keywords.

But with Little Wu by her side, Lu Jianwei could suppress the parasite, forcing it to defy its instincts.

Wu Ping survived—for now.

Raising Little Wu was expensive, but the results were worth it.

"What is Helian Zheng to you?"

"He saved my life."

"Why did you go to the Thousand Miles Tower?"

"To find and destroy the letters."

"Does Helian Zheng excel in Gu techniques?"

"I don’t know."

"Where did Zhuang Wenqing get the Gu Emperor?"

"I don’t know."

Yan Feicang asked a few more questions, but Wu Ping repeatedly claimed ignorance. The crowd soon realized he was just a disposable pawn.

Pawns weren’t allowed to know their master’s secrets.

Still, with the six letters and Wu Ping’s confession, the martial world’s factions now had enough reason to demand an explanation from Helian Zheng of the Carefree Sect.

"Xie Tongshu, what else do you have to say?" Zhao Xian scoffed. "Helian Zheng sent someone to destroy evidence—that alone proves his guilt. His conspiracy with Zhuang Wenqing threatens the martial world, and I won’t stand for it!"

Ying Chen also voiced his stance. "Brother Xie, this matter is too grave. Without a clear explanation, the martial world’s anger won’t be quelled."

"Our sect strictly forbids Gu techniques—this is common knowledge," Xie Tongshu said coldly. "If you want to smear us, bring irrefutable proof. A few ambiguous letters and a forced confession aren’t enough to condemn a sect leader."

Zhao Xian fumed. "Xie Tongshu, you’re still making excuses!"

"Brother Xie, this concerns the survival of the martial world, but we also can’t slander Sect Leader Helian without cause," Ying Chen suggested. "Why don’t we all go to the Carefree Sect and ask Helian Zheng directly?"

"I ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍agree!" Zhao Xian was the first to speak up.

The others nodded in agreement.

Xie Tongshu’s expression remained unchanged as he flicked his horsetail whisk.

"Then let’s get to the truth."

But they needed a plan—someone had to take the lead. They also had to announce the news to the martial world first, lest outsiders think they were ganging up on the Carefree Sect.

Zhao Xian was the most proactive, immediately sending disciples to spread the word in Moonview City.

The other sects followed suit.

"Shopkeeper Lu, you’re the 'Heroine of Justice' trusted by all in the martial world, and this massacre happened on your territory. After the competition, why don’t you lead us to the Carefree Sect?" Zhao Xian proposed.

Lu Jianwei replied, "I wouldn’t dare refuse."

She, too, had many questions for Sect Leader Helian.

Since spreading the news would take time, they resumed the martial competition.

Last time, Zhuang Wenqing had used Helian Xue’s love Gu to cause chaos, leaving her match undecided. Now, the two would fight again.

After the turmoil, Helian Xue seemed to have deepened her understanding of martial techniques. The doubts cast on her sect hadn’t weakened her resolve—instead, they fueled her determination to prove herself.

If she lost now, the Carefree Sect’s disgrace would only deepen.

She had to fight with everything she had to salvage her sect’s reputation.

Her flute’s melody tightly controlled her opponent’s movements, forcing them to concede.

With the original referee gone, Meng Ti’an, who had previously refused the role, volunteered to Lu Jianwei.

The crowd agreed.

He announced, "Helian Xue of the Carefree Sect wins."

The spectators noticed that this time, Helian Xue’s flute music didn’t induce madness—it was just ordinary sound-based control.

The earlier chaos had been Zhuang Wenqing’s doing.

After several elimination rounds, the finalists were Liang Shangjun and Helian Xue.

Xue Guanhe gave a thumbs-up. "Brother Liang, I underestimated you before."

"I was just going easy on you all," Liang Shangjun said, standing up. "Honestly, I don’t really want to fight her."

Yue Shu asked, "Why?"

Liang Shangjun sighed. "Kindred spirits."

With that, he leaped onto the stage.

"What does he mean by 'kindred spirits'?" Xue Guanhe was puzzled.

A’Nai glanced at Yue Shu. "Nothing. He just likes being melodramatic. Let’s watch the match."

The inn’s staff still didn’t know Liang Shangjun’s true identity—best not to mention it yet.

Helian Xue excelled in sound-based control, while Liang Shangjun specialized in unpredictability.

In previous matches, Liang Shangjun had always found flaws in his opponents’ techniques and exploited them to win.

But against the all-encompassing flute music, he struggled to find an opening. One misstep, and his focus would shatter.

In the end, Helian Xue won.

Eighteen warriors had participated in the sixth-rank competition, including Yan Feicang, Zhao Rui, and Bian Xingzhou.

In terms of reputation, Yan Feicang had been famous since his youth, rarely losing in the Martial Alliance’s competitions. After Lu Jianwei’s guidance, his blade skills had soared, and his cultivation had advanced from early to late sixth-rank.

Within the sixth rank, he had no equal.

His matches ended swiftly, with his opponents conceding defeat willingly.

As expected, Yan Feicang took first place among the sixth-rank warriors.

Only the seventh-rank competition remained.

Only two seventh-rank wandering warriors participated—one wielded a blade, the other a sword.

The victor was the blade-wielder, Yang Yi.

With the winners of each rank determined, the final battle for "White Hair" began.

The fourth-rank winner declined the challenge. For some reason, Helian Xue also withdrew.

Yan Feicang didn’t hesitate—he challenged Yang Yi to a blade duel.

One was late sixth-rank, the other early seventh-rank.

On paper, Yan Feicang was outmatched. But in terms of sheer presence, the top blade master faintly overwhelmed his opponent.

Yang Yi did not underestimate Yan Feicang. Throughout the entire match, Yan Feicang was the only opponent he truly regarded as a challenge.

He had observed Yan Feicang’s swordplay—exquisite and flawless, with hardly any openings to exploit.

Rumors said that when the number one swordsman first arrived at the inn, Lu Jianwei had pointed out numerous flaws in his technique, prompting him to stay and work as a wood-chopping laborer for over a year.

Under the guidance of a "master" like Lu Jianwei, Yan Feicang’s swordplay had become even more formidable—fierce yet refined.

In short, he had grown stronger, and his weaknesses had diminished.

Facing him in battle was like confronting a towering wall of surging waves—impenetrable and overwhelming.

The only advantage Yang Yi had was his early-stage seventh-level internal energy.

As a lone wanderer, reaching the seventh level through sheer skill was no small feat—Yang Yi was far from mediocre.

He had memorized every one of Yan Feicang’s matches, meticulously studying his techniques in search of a counter.

On the arena, Yang Yi’s swordplay was erratic—sometimes engaging head-on, sometimes evading passively—a frustrating tactic for Yan Feicang, who preferred aggressive offense.

In the past, Yan Feicang would have lost patience, risking defeat just to force him into a direct confrontation.

But after experiencing Yue Shu’s unorthodox formations—traps that had tested his temper—his mindset had shifted.

He had learned patience. He had learned to wait for the right moment.

Yang Yi was trying to wear him down, hoping to provoke a reckless mistake.

Yan Feicang saw through it.

He feigned agitation under the opponent’s shifting rhythm, letting his sword waver just enough to reveal a fleeting opening.

Yang Yi seized the chance instantly, his blade surging with seventh-level energy as he slashed toward Yan Feicang’s spine.

Success!

His eyes gleamed with triumph, as if he could already see the legendary White Bloom within his grasp—

Clang!

A torrential force erupted—Yan Feicang’s sword severed Yang Yi’s blade mid-strike, the broken half clattering to the ground with a metallic ring.

Yang Yi: ???

A deliberate trap?!

Yan Feicang’s assault never faltered. His gleaming sword cut through the air with ruthless precision—no trace of the earlier flaw remained.

"I yield!" Yang Yi shouted.

The moment the words left his lips, Yan Feicang halted his blade with flawless control.

Yang Yi couldn’t help but praise, "Impressive!"

That level of mastery—halting a lethal strike with perfect restraint—was truly worthy of the title "Number One Swordsman."

He grinned. "Brother Yan, I concede wholeheartedly."

Yan Feicang clasped his fists. "Brother Yang, you fought well."

"Brother Yan, would you be open to sparring in the future?"

Yan Feicang: "The Eight Directions Inn’s training grounds are always open."

Yang Yi: "..."

A hundred taels per session—far beyond his budget.

Meng Ti’an announced excitedly, "The final victor of this match—Yan Feicang of the Eight Directions Inn!"

Thunderous applause erupted across the arena.

"Congratulations, Brother Yan." Yang Yi sheathed the broken half of his sword, wincing slightly. "At least I still have that custom weapon slot."

Yan Feicang: "Custom weapons aren’t cheap."

"I know," Yang Yi chuckled. "I won a decent sum at the last martial alliance tournament. Should cover it."

Yan Feicang’s gaze warmed slightly—a fellow profit-seeker.

But he didn’t recall ever seeing him before.

Reading his expression, Yang Yi lowered his voice. "A lone wanderer like me can’t afford to win too conspicuously at those events. I quit while I was ahead. No one knows me, so the odds against me were high—I just bet on myself and made a tidy profit."

"Too modest, Brother Yang." Yan Feicang found himself admiring the man’s shrewdness.

A rootless, unaffiliated fighter who outshone the disciples of prestigious sects would only invite envy and trouble.

Knowing when to hide one’s edge was the key to survival in the martial world.

With the tournament concluded, the prize ceremony began.

Each division’s champion earned the right to commission a custom weapon from the inn. Yan Feicang received an additional reward—a petal of White Bloom.

The crowd buzzed with curiosity, especially the physicians from the Divine Physician Valley.

Lu Jianwei opened the ornate case without hesitation, revealing a pristine white petal. At a glance, it seemed no different from an ordinary flower—but those aware of its medicinal potency knew better.

However—

"Master Lu, this White Bloom petal looks unusually fresh."

It was common knowledge that White Bloom withered rapidly after being plucked, even with careful preservation. The best method was to process it into medicine for longevity.

Could this be a counterfeit?

Having been deceived by the Miao tribe once, skepticism came naturally.

Lu Jianwei smiled. "I have a unique preservation method. If you doubt its authenticity, feel free to verify."

"Master," Yan Feicang interjected bluntly, "could you keep the White Bloom for me? I don’t know how to preserve it."

The crowd: "..."

Truly, the mindset of a top-tier swordsman.

Recognizing his trust, Lu Jianwei closed the case without ceremony.

"Very well. I’ll return it when you need it."

And with that, the tournament ended.

The setting sun bathed the arena in golden light as a flock of egrets soared gracefully into the distant woods.

Lu Jianwei led the inn’s staff back to the main courtyard.

"Brother Wen." A voice called out to Pei Zhi, its tone slightly awkward.

Pei Zhi turned. "Brother Jin."

"You still acknowledge me as a brother?" Jin Poxiao teased before breaking into a grin. "Your poison’s finally cured—that’s fantastic."

Pei Zhi bowed deeply. "I apologize for keeping it from you."

"Enough with the formalities. You’re making me uncomfortable." Jin Poxiao playfully punched his shoulder. "If you’re so sorry, why didn’t you seek me out after recovering?"

"Associating with the Mystic Mirror Bureau would harm your business."

The Golden Blade Trading Company relied on good relations with martial factions across the land. Open ties to the Bureau risked backlash from hostile sects.

Jin Poxiao understood.

Though Pei Zhi now enjoyed the Eight Directions Inn’s favor, subtle sabotage from rivals was inevitable.

"What do you take me for?" Jin Poxiao raised an eyebrow. "Business can wait. Brotherhood can’t."

Pei Zhi smiled. "Once matters here settle, I’ll invite you for a drink."

Jin Poxiao laughed heartily. "Deal!"

Back in the main courtyard after dinner, as the staff dispersed to their tasks, Lu Jianwei detained Pei Zhi.

"With your identity exposed, business in the southern provinces must be suffering?"

Pei Zhi: "A few factions have caused minor disruptions, but most remain manageable."

"That makes sense. You've been managing this for years, with such a vast network that everyone is tied to the same chain of interests. A single misstep could affect everything, and no one would want to harm their own interests." Lu Jianwei trusted his capabilities and no longer worried, even teasing him with a smile. "Young Master Wen has always been generous with his spending. Just how much family wealth do you have?"

Pei Zhi answered honestly, "I can't calculate the exact amount, but the liquid silver I can readily access now is roughly over six million taels."

"Was the opening gift from the Mystic Mirror Bureau also taken from your personal funds?"

"Yes."

Added together, it amounted to fifteen million taels—still quite far from a hundred million. But this was just cash on hand, not including the numerous estates and shops under his name.

However, converting these fixed assets into ready silver in a short time wasn't realistic.

"Jianwei, there's something I'd like to discuss with you."

"Go ahead."

Pei Zhi said, "I want to resign from my position as Chief Commander."

"Why?"

"To focus more on business." Pei Zhi took her hand. "There are many rising talents in the Bureau who can take over the role."

Lu Jianwei asked, "Who do you think is most suitable?"

"Qi Yan."

"I recall there's another deputy commander in the Mystic Mirror Bureau."

"He's too self-interested. Not suitable."

Lu Jianwei understood and added, "But Qi Yan is only at the seventh rank. She might struggle to command respect, and if a major case arises, she may not have the capability to handle it."

"If a truly difficult case comes up, I can step in when needed." Pei Zhi's eyes sparkled with amusement, making his expression even more vivid. "Besides, since the inn gained fame, there have been far fewer cases in the martial world."

Lu Jianwei nodded. "It wouldn’t hurt to let her familiarize herself with the duties of Chief Commander in advance. But I have a small suggestion."

"Tell me."

"Resigning abruptly and promoting Qi Yan might unsettle the Bureau. Why not use the excuse of handling an important case, leaving you too occupied to manage Bureau affairs, and let Qi Yan temporarily act as Chief Commander? Once she’s settled in and established her footing, you can then formally resign."

After she finished, Pei Zhi remained silent for a long moment, simply gazing at her intently, emotions swirling in his eyes.

"What?"

Pei Zhi sighed softly, lowering his head to press his face into her palm, resting against her knees.

"Jianwei, you're too good."

"Good?" Lu Jianwei suddenly realized something and lifted his chin with a smirk. "Now that I think about it, the illustrious Chief Commander wouldn’t overlook such details. Were you testing me?"

Pei Zhi rested his chin in her palm, meeting her gaze with a smile curling at the corners of his eyes.

"Not testing you. I just wanted to hear your thoughts."

"You needed my opinion on something like this?" Lu Jianwei wasn’t buying it.

Pei Zhi curved his lips, kissing her palm affectionately, his pupils reflecting the flickering candlelight in the hall.

"Because I'm not alone anymore."

"Excuses."

Pei Zhi wrapped an arm around her waist, pressing his cheek lightly against her sash, his voice soft but firm. "I will earn enough money."

Once the Mystic Mirror Bureau no longer needed him, he would follow Innkeeper Lu wherever she went.

To the ends of the earth, across the vast world—free and unbound, together till their hair turned white.

With the grand competition concluded and news about the Carefree Sect spreading, turmoil once again stirred in the martial world.

At the residence of the Martial Alliance.

Ying Chen summoned Ying Wumian and said, "We depart for Luozhou tomorrow to report this matter to the Alliance Leader. We’ll decide our next steps after his instructions. Whatever thoughts you have, save them until this is settled."

As a father, he had noticed Ying Wumian’s unusual behavior these past days.

"I’m staying at the inn," Ying Wumian replied.

Ying Chen asked, "Reason?"

"White at Dawn."

"What exactly do you want with White at Dawn?"

"Personal matters."

Ying Chen studied him for a long moment before sighing. "You’ve always had your own mind, and I can’t control you. But don’t forget you’re the senior disciple of Purple Star Hall. You used to harbor ambitions—why do you seem to have lost even that now?"

"What ambitions?" Ying Wumian replied indifferently. "The Alliance Leader’s seat?"

Ying Chen said, "I never demanded you fight for that position. You’ve always made your own choices. But the change in you is too drastic for me to ignore."

"I wanted that seat before. Now, it holds no meaning." Ying Wumian had no desire to elaborate. "I have matters to attend to tomorrow. I’ll retire for the night."

Ying Chen: "..."

The next day, as martial artists gathered in the main courtyard to bid farewell to Lu Jianwei—except for the physicians from Divine Physician Valley—a sudden piece of news halted their departure.

Ying Wumian had challenged Yan Feicang to a duel!

A seventh-rank early-stage challenger facing a sixth-rank late-stage opponent—what was going on?

Would Yan Feicang accept?

The Martial Alliance’s top disciple and the number one blade master of the martial world—both were outstanding figures among the younger generation. Their duel promised to be spectacular.

Not to be missed!

Outside the main courtyard, Ying Wumian issued his challenge and awaited Yan Feicang’s response.

Yan Feicang, ever the battle enthusiast, opened his door without hesitation.

"How do you want to fight?"

"Brother Yan is as decisive as ever." Ying Wumian cupped his hands in respect. "We duel on the arena until one yields. I wager all my possessions, including my sword, in exchange for your White at Dawn."

Yan Feicang asked, "You want White at Dawn?"

"Yes."

"Then why didn’t you compete for it?"

"...I didn’t make it in time."

"Fine." Yan Feicang agreed without hesitation. "I’ve also been wanting to test your swordsmanship."

A faint smile escaped Ying Wumian’s tense lips as he bowed deeply. "Thank you, Brother Yan."

The two headed for the arena, trailed by a crowd of eager spectators.

"Who do you think will win?"

"Hero Ying has profound inner energy and formidable swordsmanship—he has the upper hand."

"But Hero Yan defeated Hero Yang yesterday."

"How about we start a betting pool?"

"Ten taels on Hero Ying."

"Five taels on Hero Yan."

The inn’s staff, including Yue Shu, also followed to the arena.

"Brother Xue, do you think Brother Yan can win?"

Xue Guanhe stroked his chin. "Before leaving, I took a quick glance at the innkeeper’s expression."

"And?"

"Calm and composed."

Yue Shu immediately understood. "The innkeeper once said, ‘Don’t let benefits flow to outsiders.’ If Brother Yan wins White at Dawn, she wouldn’t mind. But now that Hero Ying is after it, she isn’t worried at all—meaning she has high hopes for Brother Yan."

"Not necessarily." Liang Shangjun chimed in, munching on melon seeds. "The innkeeper isn’t the same as before. A single petal of White at Dawn? Hardly worth fretting over."

"But it’s White at Dawn!"

Liang Shangjun countered, "If she truly cared, she wouldn’t have made it a competition prize."

"Fair point." Xue Guanhe conceded. "The innkeeper has already made a fortune, and all the confiscated assets from Thousand Miles Tower were shipped back to the inn. A single petal of White at Dawn really isn’t a big deal."

The surrounding martial artists: "..."

Truly the staff of Eight Directions Inn—only they could make such bold claims.

Back in the main courtyard, Lu Jianwei suddenly sneezed.

"Little Wu, is someone bad-mouthing me?"

Little Wu was busy scanning the treasures in the storeroom and didn’t respond immediately.

"What are you looking at?" Lu Jianwei asked. "The binding tool is for monitoring, not for you to drool over every day. Don’t worry, forty percent of it is yours—it’ll all go into the public account eventually."

"I’m not drooling," Xiao Ke said excitedly. "Jianwei, I found something amazing."

"What is it?"

"A formula to widen meridians."

Lu Jianwei couldn’t help but be delighted. "It actually exists!"