No Fighting Allowed in the Inn-Chapter 107

◎Martial Breakthrough, Earning Money, the Grand Competition◎

Kong Xin returned to his lodgings, replaying in his mind the sparring session he had with Yan Feicang. He meticulously analyzed every detail, gaining deeper insights into his blade techniques, and felt the barriers of his cultivation loosening.

But it wasn’t enough. Something was still missing.

These realizations alone weren’t sufficient to break through that final barrier.

He tossed and turned until midnight before finally drifting off to sleep.

When he awoke, an inn attendant reminded him to head to the dining hall for breakfast.

According to the inn’s manual, meals were provided three times a day, served punctually within a half-hour window. Guests had to fetch their own food, and latecomers would miss out.

Kong Xin quickly got up, tidied himself, and hurried toward the dining hall.

As he passed by the wall, his gaze caught on a hanging basket. Inside was a letter, the envelope marked with the words: "For Kong Xin’s Eyes Only."

He turned to the attendant. "When was this delivered?"

The attendant looked blank. "I don’t know."

Kong Xin ordered, "You open it."

Better to be cautious in unfamiliar places.

The attendant reached for the envelope, but just as he was about to open it, a sudden thought struck Kong Xin. He snatched it back, clearing his throat. "Leave. And close the door behind you."

"Yes."

Once the door shut, the room fell into silence. His own heartbeat pounded loudly in his ears.

The inn’s manual had mentioned that expert guidance might be secretly delivered to guests’ rooms.

Could this letter be from a master offering such guidance?

He had initially suspected poison—some underhanded trick—but this was the Eight Directions Inn, under the watch of a ninth-level Martial King. Who would dare such treachery here?

He opened the envelope, and a slip of paper slid out. A few concise lines were written on it, but they struck him like a bolt of enlightenment, piercing straight to his soul.

This was it! Exactly what he needed!

The invisible barrier shattered with an almost audible crack.

His breakthrough came effortlessly.

Kong Xin spent the rest of the day in his room, consolidating his cultivation until the sun dipped westward.

He had been stuck at the late fifth level for far too long, wandering the land in search of a way forward.

Coming to the Eight Directions Inn had been a gamble—one he took in hopes of meeting more martial artists and gaining experience.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t have rushed to the training grounds the moment he read about them in the manual.

A hundred taels? Even if it was a scam, it was worth the risk. At worst, he’d consider it a gift to the inn. But if he truly received guidance from a master? That would be an invaluable opportunity.

And now, he had won the bet.

Brimming with excitement, Kong Xin couldn’t wait to show off his breakthrough. As soon as his internal energy stabilized, he headed straight for the training grounds.

A crowd still lingered outside.

One person asked, "Why are you all still here? If you don’t leave tonight, you’ll have to pay for another night."

"And why aren’t you leaving?"

"I only asked because I heard you all saying you’d leave."

"Since when do you care? None of the major sects have left—only a fool would go now."

Kong Xin scoffed internally. Was it so hard to admit they were interested in the inn?

He swaggered past, "accidentally" letting a wisp of sixth-level energy leak out.

"Wait… that guy looks familiar."

"Wasn’t he at the training grounds yesterday?"

"Yesterday, he was only fifth level?!"

The crowd fell silent, every eye fixed on Kong Xin, stunned by the terrifying reality of his overnight breakthrough.

Of course, it was possible he had been on the verge already and just happened to break through after sparring at the inn’s training grounds. But—

What an unbelievable coincidence!

"Brother, wait!" someone called out. "How did you break through?"

Kong Xin turned, his expression solemn, and delivered the words he had rehearsed in his mind.

"Yesterday, I entered the training grounds and sparred with Senior Yan Feicang. The insights I gained were profound, but I couldn’t quite grasp the final piece. Then, this morning, I found a letter—guidance from a master. It was like clouds parting before my eyes. The breakthrough came naturally after that."

"It’s really that effective?!"

"So the manual was telling the truth? There really are masters offering guidance?"

"Damn it, I’ve missed out big time!"

The news spread like wildfire from the training grounds, soon reaching every corner of the inn.

Zhao Rui remained skeptical. "That Kong guy—could he be a plant by the inn to trick people?"

"Probably not," one of his sect brothers said. "I’ve seen Kong Xin before. He’s been stuck at fifth level for ages, desperate for a breakthrough. He’s even done some… questionable things in the past."

"Like what?"

"Chasing after any rumor of spirit herbs that could boost cultivation. Got scammed more than a few times."

Zhao Rui: "…"

As disciples of the highest-tier sects, they had never experienced the struggles of rogue martial artists scraping by for progress.

"Another thing—yesterday, that Qi Yan from the Mystic Mirror Bureau defeated Yan Feicang in the training grounds. A lot of martial artists took it as a blow to their pride."

"Of course. They’ve always had a rivalry with the Mystic Mirror Bureau. Losing to Yan Feicang themselves, only for the Bureau to win? That’s gotta sting." Zhao Rui smirked. "But if they’re so bothered, they should reclaim their honor themselves instead of whining."

His sect brother lowered his voice. "I heard they went to the Martial Alliance’s side, trying to stir them into action."

"Who’d they ask? The ‘Stable Six’? Or that Bian guy?" Zhao Rui scoffed. "They can’t seriously expect elders or hall masters to step in, right? Qi Yan’s still young—how shameless would that be?"

His sect brother chuckled at the nickname "Stable Six"—it never failed to amuse him.

After a pause, he composed himself. "You forgot about Ying Wumian."

"Him?" Zhao Rui frowned. "He’s here? I didn’t see him yesterday."

"Apparently, he was delayed and only arrived last night."

Zhao Rui felt a mix of irritation and reluctant respect.

"He is one of the top talents among the younger generation. If anyone can put that arrogant Qi Yan in her place, it’s him."

Just then, an attendant knocked on their door.

"Esteemed guests, will you be extending your stay tonight? If so, please pay for the next month in advance."

Zhao Rui: "…"

"Understood," his sect brother replied, then turned to Zhao Rui. "I’ll handle the payment. And maybe stop by the training grounds too."

Zhao Rui sighed. "…I’ll come with you."

Meanwhile, at the Martial Alliance’s quarters…

A group of Purple Star Hall disciples crowded around Ying Wumian, recounting the events at the training grounds.

"We’re the Martial Alliance—the dream of every martial artist. If we don’t uphold our reputation, how can we command respect in the future?"

"Exactly! The training grounds are open to all. Senior Brother Ying should go defeat Yan Feicang and see if the Mystic Mirror Bureau can still act so smug."

"What’s the point of beating Yan Feicang? That’s not the same as beating Qi Yan."

"Then what do you suggest?"

"Did you even read the rest of the manual? Besides the training grounds, the inn has an arena. Unlike the training grounds, where you can only spar with those present, the arena allows you to challenge any martial artist in the inn. If Senior Brother Ying sends a challenge to Qi Yan, she’ll either refuse—humiliating the Mystic Mirror Bureau—or accept and lose, which would still disgrace them."

Another disciple nodded. "Right. Sparring is about restraint, but arena battles? As long as it’s not fatal, anything goes."

"Senior Brother Ying, will you send Qi Yan a challenge?"

Ying Wumian sat cross-legged in the room, a long sword resting by his side. His eyes were lightly closed, his expression calm with a faint trace of a smile. Though he was in his early thirties, his early mastery of martial arts had preserved his youthful appearance, leaving him strikingly handsome, as if still in his twenties.

When his junior brothers made their request, he remained unmoved, offering no response.

The group exchanged uneasy glances and were about to press further when Ying Wumian suddenly opened his eyes, his voice deep and refined.

"How much does it cost to enter the arena?"

"Two hundred taels," one junior brother replied. "The one who issues the challenge pays."

"Senior Brother Ying, if you think it's too expensive, we can place bets to earn money back. We'll wager on your victory—it's a sure win."

Though no official betting stalls were set up beside the arena, martial artists could arrange private wagers, and surely the wandering warriors in the inn would be eager to participate.

Ying Wumian continued smiling. "When I arrived last night, I read the manual. It mentioned that before an arena match, one could reserve a physician from the inn. If injured, treatment would be immediate. The fee depends on the physician's status—starting at five hundred taels, with no upper limit."

"We brought our own physician. No need to reserve one."

"In a duel, there's no guarantee meridians won't be damaged. Besides Innkeeper Lu, who in this world can fully cure the parasitic qi affliction?"

"..."

Ying Wumian added, "Warriors can also purchase insurance before the match. With a policy, even if your opponent resorts to underhanded tactics to kill you, you'll receive timely rescue. One policy costs five hundred taels. Where will the money come from?"

"..."

"Leave now. Do not disturb my cultivation." Ying Wumian smiled as he dismissed them.

Reluctantly, the group withdrew.

Moments later, another man entered the room and asked, "You truly won’t issue a challenge?"

Ying Wumian: "Why should I?"

"Perhaps it’s for the best." Ying Chen changed the subject. "But your junior brothers don’t want to see the Mystic Mirror Bureau flaunt their power. If you refuse, they might think you’re afraid."

Ying Wumian chuckled. "Father, I practice martial arts not to fight. My juniors are upset because they care about the Mystic Mirror Bureau. Why should I?"

"Qi Yan is also a seventh-rank, just like you."

"Is that so? What does that have to do with me?" Ying Wumian shifted the topic. "Where’s Junior Brother Bian?"

Ying Chen stared at him before sighing. "You and your brothers—none of you give me peace."

"What has he done now?"

"He ran off to the Carefree Sect. Seems he wants to be Sect Master Helian’s live-in son-in-law."

Ying Wumian: "Each of my juniors has their own path. Why trouble yourself over it?"

"..."

"Was there something else?"

Ying Chen pointed at him in resignation. "With your temperament, you’ll regret it one day."

Ying Wumian closed his eyes and said no more.

Ying Chen flicked his sleeve and left.

By evening, the clouds had faded, leaving the sky a translucent glaze of color.

It was time for the wandering warriors to make their choices.

Those from minor sects who had come merely to broaden their horizons or forge connections, along with a few stragglers short on funds, reluctantly bid farewell to the main courtyard.

The vast majority chose to stay—wealthy sects like the Carefree Sect, the Sky Pillar Hall, the Martial Alliance, and the Divine Physician Valley continued lodging in the secluded courtyards.

The inn earned over six thousand taels in a single night from lodging alone.

Though this covered a month’s stay, earning six thousand taels in a month was still impressive—especially since it was uncertain whether these guests would remain the full term.

Unlike before, the construction costs for these lodgings had been covered entirely by Lu Jianwei, so the earnings went straight into her private coffers rather than the inn’s public ledger.

Now, the inn’s public funds could only be replenished through income from functional buildings tied to special tools.

Seeing Lu Jianwei rake in such profits, Xiao Ke couldn’t help but feel envious.

"Why the rush? Plenty entered the training grounds today—haven’t you earned enough?"

"Heh, true enough."

Kong Xin’s enthusiastic promotion had lasted until dusk, and many hadn’t had time to pay for entry. By tomorrow, the training grounds’ revenue would surely skyrocket.

No martial artist could resist the lure of a breakthrough.

Kong Xin’s advancement was living proof. Even the most rational warrior would find the temptation irresistible.

A mere hundred taels was nothing.

Even a thousand would be worth it if it meant guidance from a master.

The day before, not just Kong Xin but the first ten warriors to enter had received letters from experts.

After studying them, even those who hadn’t broken through showed noticeable improvements in their techniques during today’s sparring.

Who wouldn’t covet such an opportunity?

Unlike the disciplined members of major sects, the wandering warriors followed their whims, each determined to visit the training grounds the next day.

---

At the Divine Physician Valley’s quarters, lamps burned as a group gathered around a table, carefully studying the manual.

A seventh-rank Divine Physician, Meng Ti'an, sat at the head, flanked by sixth-rank physicians. The candlelight cast deep shadows on their solemn faces, making them appear weary beyond their years.

"Elder Meng, Innkeeper Lu’s invitation mentioned discussing the ‘parasitic qi affliction.’ It’s been two days—why hasn’t there been any movement?"

"Could it be a trick?"

Meng Ti'an stroked his white beard and said gravely, "No need for haste. The opening was merely an appetizer. The main course has yet to be served."

"You don’t mean the training grounds and arena, do you?"

"I’m looking at the infirmary and the academy." Meng Ti'an pointed at the manual. "The infirmary is reserved for physicians to treat patients. For every patient healed, the inn awards a Benevolence Pearl. Collect ten, and you gain entry to the academy."

A sixth-rank physician frowned. "That’s what it says, but the manual doesn’t specify what kind of patients—whether they must be guests of the inn or if outsiders count."

"Since it’s not specified, it likely means both," another physician said. "But how can we be sure the inn will keep its word? What if we treat people but aren’t given the chance to learn? Wouldn’t our efforts be wasted—"

"Mind your words." Meng Ti'an shot him a sharp glance. "We are healers. How can saving lives ever be ‘wasted’? With such an attitude, your medical skills will never progress further."

The physician bowed his head in shame.

"Tomorrow, I will seek out Innkeeper Lu for clarification," Meng Ti'an declared. "Until then, do not dwell on it. All of you, disperse."

---

Within the five-mile radius of the inn, different conversations unfolded in different quarters.

Without needing to eavesdrop, Lu Jianwei could guess what they were discussing—the exorbitant lodging fees, whether any intelligence had been gathered, the training grounds, the arena, and the like.

"Xiao Ke, what about Mei Sixian?"

Xiao Ke: "The Mystic Mirror Bureau couldn’t afford a private courtyard, so they took single rooms in a row. Mei Sixian returned to his room and spent the time transcribing records. No unusual activity, and he spoke little to others."

"Keep watching him."

"Understood."

---

The next day, Meng Ti'an arrived alone at the inn’s main courtyard.

The gate was closed. He knocked.

The door was opened by a young man clutching a treasured blade, his body drenched in sweat—clearly, he had been training.

Xue Guanhe, Lu Jianwei’s first disciple.

"Young Hero Xue, is Innkeeper Lu available?"

Xue Guanhe: "You’re here for her too? Come in."

He stepped aside to let him pass.

Meng Ti'an: Too? Who else is here?

As he crossed the front courtyard and stepped onto the corridor, the scene in the main hall came into view—and his footsteps faltered.

He had chosen a most inopportune time to arrive.

After the main courtyard ceased accommodating guests, all the tables and chairs in the hall were removed, leaving only a brand-new long table with seats neatly arranged alongside it. The spaciousness of the hall became even more pronounced.

The doors and windows were wide open, allowing bright light to spill across the table, casting a golden glow on everyone’s faces.

All eyes turned to Meng Ti’an.

Meng Ti’an: "..."

"Elder Meng has arrived," Lu Jianwei said from the head seat, smiling. "Come in—we’ve been waiting just for you."

Meng Ti’an stepped inside with a wary heart, his gaze sweeping over those present.

Xie Tongshu, elder of the Carefree Sect; Zhao Xian, elder of the Sky Pillar Hall; Shangguan Huai, dean of Luzhou Academy; Ying Chen, head of the Purple Star Hall in the Martial Alliance; Zhuang Wenqing, master of the Thousand Miles Tower; Hei Zhan, chief of the Black Wind Fort; Luo Wanchun, peak master of Green Cloud Peak; Jin Huanrong, proprietor of the Golden Blade Trading Company; and one conspicuously out-of-place figure—Qi Yan, deputy commander of the Mystic Mirror Bureau.

Most were renowned martial artists of the jianghu.

With so many formidable figures gathered and all eyes fixed on him, anyone would feel their nerves fray. Though Meng Ti’an had weathered many storms and wasn’t easily intimidated, he couldn’t help but feel uneasy. He forced himself to remain composed and took the empty seat beside Jin Huanrong, directly facing Qi Yan.

"Now that everyone’s here," Lu Jianwei leaned back lazily, "if you have anything to say, speak up all at once."

The group: "..."

With so many people present, how could they possibly voice their thoughts?

"Nothing to say?" Lu Jianwei raised a brow. "If not, then let’s adjourn. I’m quite busy."

"Manager Lu," Jin Huanrong spoke first, "I apologize for the intrusion, but I came to inquire about the terms mentioned in the manual—specifically, the physician appointments for the arena and the guarantee tickets. What do they entail?"

Lu Jianwei: "As I’ve said before, any questions can be directed to the staff or stewards."

"I did ask, but there were some details they couldn’t clarify."

"Such as?"

"Does the list of available physicians include Manager Lu? And are the guarantee tickets truly effective?"

The others silently agreed—these were excellent questions they also wanted answered.

Lu Jianwei smiled. "You may request my services, but my fees far exceed those of the other physicians. I doubt any of you could afford them."

"..." Who did she think she was looking down on?!

Jin Huanrong: "Might I ask what your fees are?"

"A deposit of five thousand taels, and fifty thousand per session." Lu Jianwei glanced at the stunned expressions around her, her lips curling further. "Of course, as a healer, I have a compassionate heart. The inn also offers exemptions. If you can provide proof of genuine poverty, the fees may be reduced or waived entirely."

Shangguan Huai: "I’ve heard before that Manager Lu implemented a similar rule when treating patients in Jiangzhou. Many impoverished commoners benefited from it."

The others inwardly groaned.

They were all esteemed martial artists of high status in the jianghu—how could they possibly submit documentation proving their poverty?

Wouldn’t that invite ridicule?

Manager Lu truly had a knack for humiliating people.

"How does one obtain such proof?" Jin Huanrong pressed on.

The attendees finally realized—Jin Huanrong was clearly playing along with Lu Jianwei.

Of course. Rumor had it that the Golden Blade Trading Company was the first to establish ties with the inn. Jin Huanrong had even received two White Jade Lingzhi Pills from Lu Jianwei.

Lu Jianwei: "Given your well-known wealth, how could any of you struggle to pay? This rule is meant for other wandering martial artists—it hardly concerns you. My earlier remark was merely in jest, so forgive me. If you truly wish to know the answer, you might as well ask the Mystic Mirror Bureau directly."

Hmph. Another ally of hers was the Mystic Mirror Bureau.

No one understood why the Eight Directions Inn would collaborate with them.

Jin Huanrong nodded. "Manager Lu, I have no further questions."

"Anyone else?" Lu Jianwei turned her head. "Elder Meng, as the Medical Sage of the Divine Physician Valley, your concerns must differ from theirs. Why don’t you speak first?"

Meng Ti’an stroked his beard, feigning composure. "Manager Lu previously mentioned that you would teach us the treatment for ‘internal energy parasitic affliction.’ When will you honor this promise?"

"Elder Meng, may I ask how much your valley charges for medical apprenticeships?"

"..."

Qi Yan interjected, "From what I know, it’s a thousand taels per month."

"And what kind of medical knowledge is taught?" Lu Jianwei asked teasingly. "Would Elder Meng care to enlighten me?"

Meng Ti’an’s aged face flushed with embarrassment, but he refused to lie. "Students may study whatever they wish."

"If I recall correctly, the thousand taels is merely an entry fee. Once inside, they must pay additional sums to learn from the valley’s physicians." Qi Yan delivered another blow.

Meng Ti’an: "..."

"What ailments do you specialize in, Elder Meng?" Lu Jianwei inquired curiously.

Meng Ti’an: "This old man is ashamed to admit that while I’ve studied many branches of medicine, none have been mastered to perfection."

"You’re too modest." Lu Jianwei’s smile deepened—this man was a jack-of-all-trades.

"Manager Lu, the manual clearly states that accumulating ten Benevolence Pearls grants access to the academy for study."

"Indeed. But just like the rules of the Divine Physician Valley, the pearls are merely the key. What you learn inside depends entirely on you." Lu Jianwei grinned. "Once enrolled, as long as you pay the required tuition, you may study any medical discipline. However, my unique techniques aren’t so easily mastered."

Meng Ti’an inwardly cursed—this was a scam! A blatant scam!

Lure them in first, then bleed them dry.

Yet, even knowing this, he couldn’t bring himself to refuse.

His fingers unconsciously tightened on his beard, and he winced at the sharp tug.

The others watched, sharing his frustration.

They wanted to curse, but they had to hold back.

Lu Jianwei: "It seems Elder Meng has no further questions. What about the rest of you? Feel free to voice your thoughts. As guests of the inn, your satisfaction is our priority."

The group: "..."

What a joke!

"Manager Lu," Ying Chen of the Martial Alliance spoke cautiously, "I mean no offense, but I’ve been entrusted by our peers to ask—does your establishment truly possess the Polar Golden Silkworms?"

The others immediately perked up.

Lu Jianwei turned to Zhuang Wenqing. "Master Zhuang is the most knowledgeable about this matter. First, Xia Huaigu spread malicious rumors, then martial artists sought shelter from the rain here and ‘coincidentally’ spotted the silkworms. Even a storyteller wouldn’t fabricate such a tale."

"Manager Lu jests. This matter has nothing to do with the Thousand Miles Tower," Zhuang Wenqing denied outright.

Lu Jianwei smirked. "The Tower claims to know all under heaven. If the rumors didn’t originate from you, you must at least know their source. Would Master Zhuang be willing to make this transaction?"

"That was in the past," Zhuang Wenqing sighed helplessly. "Now everyone knows the Tower has suffered repeated defeats at Manager Lu’s hands. Please don’t mock me further."

"The inn didn’t spread those rumors. Just because you’ve lost to me, must you also fail against others?" Lu Jianwei arched a brow. "Master Zhuang, I’m genuinely interested in doing business with you."

Shangguan Huai mused: These people sought to pressure Manager Lu using the Polar Golden Silkworms, yet with just a few words, she dragged Master Zhuang into the fray. How amusing.

"Pfft." A mocking smile curled at Qi Yan's lips. "Such a clumsy rumor, and Sect Master Ying actually believes it? Then again, the Battle of Panma Mountain did prove that the Martial Alliance is full of reckless brutes who can't distinguish right from wrong."

Ying Chen stiffened but insisted, "There's no smoke without fire."

"I see." Lu Jianwei nodded. "The rumor was spread by the Martial Alliance. Still holding a grudge over the incident with the six stablehands, they decided to slander me in retaliation."

Did they think they were the only ones who could sling mud?

If they wanted to stand on moral high ground and judge her, they could forget it.

"I think so too." Qi Yan agreed with a straight face.

Ying Chen: "..."

"Next." She turned to Hei Zhan.

Hei Zhan jolted, his rough features twisting into an awkward smile.

"Manager ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌​‍Lu, I just wanted to ask—when will the arena matches begin? My unruly son is eager to test his skills."

Lu Jianwei thought: Finally, we get to the point.

She swept her gaze over the crowd and said solemnly, "I sincerely apologize for the initial opening date coinciding with the Martial Alliance's grand tournament. As someone new to the jianghu, I’ve never attended such a grand event before, but even hearing others speak of it fills me with excitement."

The crowd couldn’t help but glance at Ying Chen, who remained stone-faced, revealing nothing.

"Now that heroes from all sides have gathered at my humble inn, why not hold a grand tournament here? It would give young martial artists a chance to prove themselves. What do you all think?"

The assembled guests looked at Lu Jianwei’s youthful face, then thought of their own sects’ so-called "talented prodigies," and couldn’t help but feel a wave of despair.

They were simply not up to par!