No Fighting Allowed in the Inn-Chapter 122

◎To Cangzhou, the Blacksmith, an Opportunity◎

Early the next morning, Lu Jianwei and her two companions filled their water pouches, packed dry rations, mounted their horses, and left the roadside inn.

After their departure, Wan Cong also set off for Cangzhou alongside the other wandering martial artists staying at the inn.

Along the way, he befriended a lone traveler. No matter what the other said, Wan Cong could always keep the conversation going, flattering him until the man was overjoyed, impulsively declaring them kindred spirits.

Seizing the right moment, Wan Cong remarked, "With the Alliance Leader’s decree out, countless martial artists must be heading to the Carefree Sect. We’ll probably get to see quite a few Martial Kings of the eighth rank, won’t we?"

The lone traveler was only a fifth-rank warrior, and Wan Cong had deliberately suppressed his own aura, making the other assume he was at most sixth rank.

"Brother Wan is right. It’s also a chance for us to visit the world’s greatest sect and broaden our horizons."

"I wonder which Martial Kings will attend."

"Elder Zhao from the Sky Pillar Hall, the Alliance Leader himself, and Dean Shangguan from Luzhou Academy—they’ll likely all be there."

"Yesterday at the inn, there was a Martial King surnamed Lu. Do you know which sect he’s from?"

"Lu?!" The traveler was startled and cautiously asked, "I saw the fellow guests during breakfast this morning, but I didn’t notice anyone like that."

Wan Cong feigned curiosity: "So there really is one?"

"Brother Wan, was this Martial King Lu a man or a woman?"

"A man."

The traveler sighed in relief: "Then it’s not her. Was he a seventh-rank Martial King?"

Wan Cong acted surprised: "Why do you say seventh rank?"

"I’ve heard of a Martial King surnamed Lu, but she’s already ninth rank—and a woman," the traveler said matter-of-factly. "Given Brother Wan’s cultivation, if she were eighth rank, you wouldn’t have easily sensed her presence, so I’m guessing seventh rank."

Compared to eighth and ninth ranks, a seventh-rank Martial King no longer stirred much excitement in the traveler.

But Wan Cong was stunned: "A ninth-rank Martial King surnamed Lu? Since when?"

"Brother Wan, you really have been in seclusion too long, unaware of the storms that have swept the martial world these past two years."

Wan Cong immediately perked up: "I’m all ears."

With the journey being dull, swapping tales of the martial world was a welcome diversion. The traveler launched into a lively account of the Eight Directions Inn.

Wan Cong gasped and exclaimed at every turn, and his enthusiastic reactions spurred the traveler to share even more, including all sorts of hearsay.

"Hahahaha, the ‘Six Stallions of the Stable’—that’s hilarious! This Shopkeeper Lu really has a mischievous streak."

The traveler glanced around, ensuring no one was within earshot, then chuckled boldly: "I laughed for ages when I first heard it. They say ever since then, Master Yu and his companions have been much more restrained when traveling."

Wan Cong: "That’s a good thing."

"It is indeed," the traveler sighed. "I used to be intimidated by disciples of the major sects, but after hearing how often they’ve been humbled at the inn, I’m not as afraid anymore."

"Who else has been put in their place?"

"Disciples from the Sky Pillar Hall and the Carefree Sect have all been surprisingly well-behaved at the inn. I heard they even got fined for brawling there." The traveler gave him a meaningful look. "And the most beautiful woman in the martial world? She actually volunteered to work as a servant at the inn."

Wan Cong: "…"

His emotions were too tangled to express, so he simply clicked his tongue and asked, "After all this, I still don’t know how old Shopkeeper Lu is."

The traveler: "Twenty-seven."

He then fixed Wan Cong with an expectant gaze.

Sure enough, Wan Cong’s face twisted in disbelief, and the traveler reveled in the moment.

When he’d first heard the story, he’d thought the storytellers were spinning tall tales and had made a fool of himself over it.

Now, the tables had turned, and he could enjoy watching someone else’s dumbfounded expression.

"Impossible." Wan Cong snapped out of it, his expression grave. "A twenty-seven-year-old ninth-rank Martial King? Absolutely impossible."

The traveler: "Brother Wan, I didn’t believe it either at first. But the truth is, geniuses like her exist—people like us could never catch up no matter how hard we try. And I’ve also heard that Shopkeeper Lu comes from a reclusive sect. You know about those, right?"

"Ah," Wan Cong forced a laugh and nodded. "I’ve heard of them, but no one’s ever actually seen a reclusive sect—it’s all hearsay. You say Shopkeeper Lu is from one—do you have proof?"

The traveler: "What kind of proof do you need? The inn itself is proof. Back when she was in Jiangzhou, she was only eighth rank, yet she already had a ninth-rank Martial King backing her. Name one other sect in the entire martial world that could pull that off."

"Here’s a question," Wan Cong suddenly seized on a loophole. "If she was already eighth rank in Jiangzhou, dealing with those martial artists who besieged her should’ve been easy. Why didn’t she handle it herself instead of relying on her elders?"

The traveler had a ready explanation: "We’ve discussed this before. The general consensus is that having a ninth-rank Martial King intervene sent a much stronger message to the entire martial world—it made even the Carefree Sect and Sky Pillar Hall think twice about crossing her, nipping future trouble in the bud."

Wan Cong nodded: "Makes sense. A show of force like that would deter a lot of potential problems."

"Speaking of reclusive sects, you almost derailed me there." The traveler continued, "There are a few other reasons people think Shopkeeper Lu comes from one. The blacksmiths in her sect surpass even the world’s greatest, Xu Sanzuo. And their medical skills are divine—they can even cure ‘internal energy parasites,’ a blessing for all martial artists."

Wan Cong was thoroughly stunned.

He knew Xu Sanzuo—the man’s forging skills were already peerless. Could Shopkeeper Lu’s sect really have someone even more skilled?

Unbelievable.

Why had he never heard of such a reclusive sect?

The doubts gnawed at him like a thousand kittens scratching at his heart.

If he didn’t get to the bottom of this, he’d never sleep soundly again.

Eight Directions Inn. Shopkeeper Lu. Ninth-rank Martial King.

That Martial King Lu from yesterday was also surnamed Lu—Lu Ba.

And there was a girl named Lu Fang.

His heart skipped a beat as realization struck.

Lu Ba. Lu Fang. Put together, wasn’t that Lu Ba Fang—Lu of the Eight Directions?

It had to be connected to the Eight Directions Inn!

Wan Cong hurriedly asked, "Earlier, you mentioned that Shopkeeper Lu earned the title ‘Heroine of Justice’ after she disguised herself as ‘Shen Shier’ and upheld justice for wronged martial artists at Guihe Residence?"

"That’s right."

Wan Cong couldn’t help but smile: "So it’s Miss Shen. How interesting."

Eager to verify his suspicions, he clasped his fists at the traveler. "I just remembered something urgent. I must take my leave—farewell."

With that, he spurred his horse and vanished in a cloud of dust.

The traveler: "…"

Three days later, Lu Jianwei and her companions arrived in Cangzhou.

Thanks to the presence of the Yao Family Ironworks, Cangzhou was far more bustling than Suzhou. The streets teemed with people, most of them martial artists, and bare-chested blacksmiths hammered away at their forges along the roadside.

These blacksmiths weren’t true master craftsmen—at best, they forged basic weapons for novice martial artists. Those of the Warrior rank and above rarely sought their services.

Cangzhou was Helian Xue’s territory. Once inside the city, she naturally took on the role of guide.

"Though these blacksmiths aren’t real master craftsmen, they serve as the Ironworks’ eyes and ears in the city—and as gatekeepers."

To enter the Yao Family Ironworks, one first had to pass the blacksmiths’ scrutiny. Only if one met their criteria would they be recommended for entry.

Of course, getting in was just the beginning.

The Yao family had strict hierarchies, and their craftsmen were also ranked. To meet a true master smith, money alone wasn’t enough—connections, resources, and more were indispensable.

"The Yao family’s most skilled craftsman is on par with Master Xu Sanzuo," Helian Xue said.

Lu Jianwei: "I’ve heard Yan Feicang mention Xu Sanzuo before. Who exactly is he?"

"He’s from Liaozhou," Pei Zhi replied. "Fifty-three years old, he rose to fame at sixteen and has forged countless weapons over thirty-seven years, nine of which are legendary."

"If they’re equally skilled, why is he considered the world’s best?"

"The Yao family’s master smith is seventy-nine now, and the wielders of Xu Sanzuo’s weapons are far more renowned in the martial world."

Lu Jianwei understood—it was a combination of age and reputation.

"Who are the owners of these weapons?"

Pei Zhi: "The Six Heroes of the Carefree Sect, whose fame once shook the martial world, all wielded weapons forged by Master Xu."

"And the other three?"

"Bian Xingzhou’s fan, Zhao Rui’s flexible sword, and his own gourd."

Lu Jianwei chuckled. "Using a gourd as a weapon—now that’s extraordinary."

As they spoke, the trio arrived at a blacksmith’s shop.

The smith was a brawny, towering man with a rugged build but an honest face.

Noticing their distinguished airs, he asked, "What can I forge for you three?"

Without preamble, Lu Jianwei took out a crane-shaped whistle and handed it to him. "I’d like to meet the owner of this whistle."

The smith paused, set down his tools, and examined the whistle carefully as if verifying something. After a moment, he shook his head. "You won’t be able to meet them."

"Why not?"

"Why else? They were kicked out."

Lu Jianwei: "Where are they now?"

"You ask me, but who do I ask?" The smith waved them off. "If you’re not buying weapons, don’t block the shop."

Helian Xue produced a jade pendant of the Carefree Sect and said softly, "I commissioned a weapon from them but was delayed and never picked it up. Could you tell us where they went?"

The pendant was standard for all Carefree Sect disciples—a symbol of affiliation, nothing more.

In Cangzhou, the sect’s name carried weight. The smith’s expression softened slightly.

"So you’re a heroine of the Carefree Sect," he sighed, lowering his voice. "I wasn’t close to them, so I really don’t know. But if you’re looking, try asking at Lu’s Pancake Shop in the northern city."

Helian Xue: "Thank you."

The three set off for Lu’s Pancake Shop in the northern district.

The northern city was crowded with inns, eateries, fabric shops, and more, teeming with travelers jostling shoulder-to-shoulder in the bustling streets.

Pei Zhi quietly released a faint pressure, imperceptible to most but enough to make people subconsciously avoid them.

Lu Jianwei laughed. "Doing this makes us stand out."

Amid the sea of bodies, the empty space around them was glaringly obvious.

Pei Zhi: "I didn’t want you to be jostled."

"Then how about this?" She took his hand, draped it over her shoulder, and grinned. "Better?"

Pei Zhi tightened his grip slightly, eyes crinkling in amusement as he withdrew his pressure. Now, if anyone bumped into them, they’d only brush against his hand or arm.

Helian Xue: "..."

Though Lu Jianwei and Commander Pei made a fine pair, at the moment, both wore disguises—one a young woman of twenty, the other a middle-aged man of forty. The mismatch was jarring.

As expected, passersby cast curious glances.

The age gap might seem odd, but powerful martial artists often had young companions. Few, however, were this blatant about it.

Lu Jianwei sighed softly. "Some are whispering that I’m neither skilled nor beautiful, and soon enough, the mighty warrior will tire of me. Tell me, Commander Pei, when will you grow weary of me?"

Pei Zhi, tall enough to lean his ear toward her, felt her warm breath brush his skin, sending a faint itch through him.

He turned to her, eyes tinged with something almost plaintive.

"I only hope you won’t abandon me first."

Lu Jianwei laughed, pinching his earlobe. "I won’t. I still need the young master of wealth to grow my estates and shops."

"The honor is mine."

Their whispered intimacy ignored the crowd entirely. Soon, the onlookers lost interest and turned away.

No one had time to gawk all day.

Before long, they found Lu’s Pancake Shop.

The couple running it were weathered but efficient, their pancakes crisp and fragrant.

Lu Jianwei bought three, handing one each to her companions before taking a bite on the spot.

"Delicious."

Pleased, the wife beamed and offered another. "Since you like it, have another on the house."

"Much obliged." Lu Jianwei accepted it cheerfully and passed it to Pei Zhi. "Why aren’t you eating?"

Pei Zhi hesitated, then mimicked her, standing by the stall and taking a bite under the open sky.

The pancake was hearty, freshly baked, and undeniably tasty.

"It is good."

Before his poison was cured, his taste had been dulled for years. After recovering, he’d savored every dish at the inn, finding flavor in everything.

He’d never eaten street food like this, but doing so now felt unexpectedly freeing—perhaps because everything was joyful with Lu Jianwei.

The couple brightened further at his praise.

"You’re not from here, are you?" the wife asked, warming to them.

Lu Jianwei nodded, feigning dejection. "I came looking for someone, but I can’t find them."

"Who is it? I’ve lived here for years—maybe I can help."

Lu Jianwei: "I don’t know their full names, just that they’re a married couple, the husband surnamed Yao. We met while traveling, and they gave me this whistle, saying if I ever came to Cangzhou, I could find them at the Yao family’s smithy. But the smith claimed not to know them."

The couple’s expressions shifted at the sight of the whistle, exchanging a glance.

"May I ask your name, miss?"

Lu Jianwei tucked the whistle away. "Shen."

"Miss Shen!" The wife gasped softly. "Of Guihe Residence in Jingzhou?"

"That’s me."

The wife hastily gestured inside.

"Esteemed guests, please come in."

Lu Jianwei strode in, Pei Zhi and Helian Xue following.

The pancake vendor stayed outside to tend the stall—no one paid the trio any mind.

Past the front room lay a small courtyard, the family’s living quarters.

Two modest rooms flanked the yard, strings of garlic and dried meat hanging from the walls.

A toddler sat on the stone steps, engrossed in a wooden rattle-drum.

The rattle drum was already old, its thumping sound dull and muffled.

Hearing footsteps, he lifted his head, his large, dark eyes—like black grapes—turning toward the newcomer.

The shopkeeper’s wife scooped him up in her arms and said, "Heroine Shen, do you remember saving Qingbao’s life in Jingzhou?"

Lu Jianwei smiled faintly and nodded. "So his name is Qingbao. He’s grown so much. What happened to Madam Yao and the others?"

"Ah, it’s a long story. Second Aunt and Seventh Yao have suffered terribly."

Madam Zhou led them into the house, where a bed held two people—the Yao couple.

Their faces were pale and gaunt, unconscious, clearly bearing severe injuries.

Without wasting words, Lu Jianwei immediately checked Madam Yao’s pulse.

Internal injuries were severe, and her meridians were damaged.

She then examined her husband—his condition was even worse. Without timely treatment, he would soon be crippled.

"Do you have ink and paper?" Lu Jianwei asked.

Madam Zhou instantly understood, her face lighting up with hope. "I’ll fetch them right away!"

Moments later, the writing tools arrived.

Lu Jianwei unfastened Seventh Yao’s robe, inserting silver needles into his acupoints as she instructed Pei Zhi, "I’ll dictate; you write."

"Understood." Pei Zhi spread out the paper, brush poised.

As she worked the needles, Lu Jianwei recited the prescription, each insertion swift and precise, each herb named without hesitation.

Her confidence reassured Madam Zhou, whose anxious heart gradually settled, tears welling in her eyes.

Her unfortunate sister and brother-in-law had finally met their savior—a bodhisattva in human form.

Once the acupuncture was complete, Seventh Yao’s ashen complexion quickly regained color, his faint breathing stabilizing.

Pei Zhi had also finished writing the prescription.

"Madam, may I ask your surname?" Lu Jianwei inquired as she withdrew the needles. "And your relation to them?"

Madam Zhou smacked her forehead. "I was so overwhelmed I forgot to introduce myself. My surname is Zhou. Second Aunt is my younger sister, Seventh Yao is my brother-in-law, and the man tending the shop is my husband, surnamed Lu."

"Madam Zhou, here is the prescription. Take it to an apothecary in the city, brew the medicine, and their injuries will heal in five days."

Yet Madam Zhou hesitated. "Heroine Shen, it’s not that I’m unwilling, but the apothecaries might refuse to sell to me."

"Why?"

"Second Aunt and Seventh Yao have made enemies. Not only were they beaten like this, but they were also cast out of the Yao family. I’d heard of you—the renowned Heroine Shen—and planned to seek your help, but those vile creatures barred us from leaving the city. They forbade physicians from treating them and cut off our access to medicine, trying to drive them to their deaths!"

Madam Zhou grew more agitated as she spoke, her fists clenched so tightly her entire body trembled.

Lu Jianwei hadn’t noticed any spies outside the shop earlier, suggesting their enemies had only bribed the city guards and apothecaries, not stationed watchers at the pancake stall.

"In that case, A-Xue, could you fetch the medicine?"

Helian Xue nodded, folding the prescription before leaving the shop.

"Thank you, Heroine Shen!"

Lu Jianwei glanced at Pei Zhi. "I still need to treat Second Aunt Zhou."

"I’ll wait outside." Pei Zhi tactfully exited, closing the door behind him.

Inside, Lu Jianwei worked the needles with practiced efficiency while questioning Madam Zhou.

"If you know who I am, why still call me 'Heroine Shen'?"

Madam Zhou explained, "Shopkeeper Lu is now famous across the land. Had I mentioned 'Lu' outside earlier, we wouldn’t have had this peace. Second Aunt once told me you once traveled incognito as 'Miss Shen,' so I addressed you as such."

"Madam Zhou, you’re quite meticulous." Lu Jianwei praised before asking, "Who did they offend?"

Madam Zhou’s anger flared anew.

"Offend? More like disaster sought them out! Seventh Yao was born into a minor branch of the Yao family, with no status, but he was gifted. Even without formal teaching, he could master techniques just by watching. After returning from Jingzhou, he worked tirelessly and finally solved a critical problem in forging. But that black-hearted scoundrel not only stole his achievement but also accused him of theft, beat him half to death, and expelled him from the family!"

"Determining who truly solved the problem shouldn’t be difficult," Lu Jianwei remarked.

A simple test would reveal the truth.

Madam Zhou sighed. "If only it were that easy. That bastard has backing in the Carefree Sect—who would dare cross him?"

Lu Jianwei: "..."

Truly, wherever there were people, there was strife. Even renowned martial arts families had their share of corruption.

"Who in the Carefree Sect supports him?"

"That bastard’s uncle is a disciple under Elder Yin."

Lu Jianwei: "..."

Quite the distant connection.

But—

Could this Elder Yin be Yin Sui, one of the Six Heroes of the Carefree Sect?

Her ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​‍original plan had been to infiltrate the sect early, but she hadn’t finalized the details. Using the whistle to test the Yao family’s connections was a start.

Helian Xue could enter the sect, but it wasn’t yet time for her to reveal herself. With the Gu King eliminated, showing her face now would alert its master.

This was also why Helian Xue had remained in Fengzhou earlier.

Lu Jianwei needed an inconspicuous way into the Carefree Sect—perhaps the injustice suffered by the Yao couple was her opportunity.

But she couldn’t rely solely on one account.

By the time Helian Xue returned with the medicine, Lu Jianwei had learned the identity and address of the "black-hearted scoundrel" from Madam Zhou.

"Madam Zhou, Second Aunt and Seventh Yao are out of danger. Just administer the medicine, and they’ll recover in five days. I must take my leave now."

"Thank you, Heroine Shen." Madam Zhou hastily paid for the medicine, then added, "And your consultation fee—please wait."

She retrieved a small box from the inner room, filled with scattered silver and copper coins, and said guiltily, "You saved their lives, yet this paltry sum is all I can offer..."

Lu Jianwei picked out five coins of silver and said gently, "You’ve helped me as well. This is enough."

Madam Zhou: "..."

Shopkeeper Lu’s kindness knew no bounds—she must have noticed their hardship and made an excuse to ease their burden.

The three left Lu’s Pancake Shop and checked into an inn, securing three adjoining upper rooms.

"A-Xue," Lu Jianwei instructed Helian Xue, "I’ll be out tonight. Stay in the inn and do nothing until I return."

"Understood." After a brief hesitation, Helian Xue added, "Shopkeeper, I’m... afraid."

"Of what?"

"Everything feels out of control. I don’t know how to proceed or what choices to make."

Lu Jianwei: "Then let justice and heaven’s will decide."

"I understand."

Once Helian Xue closed her door, Lu Jianwei and Pei Zhi entered the same room.

It was spacious, with a bed and a low couch.

"You heard Madam Zhou’s story earlier?" Lu Jianwei asked.

"I did," Pei Zhi replied. "You plan to scout Han Shui Alley tonight?"

Lu Jianwei: "Care to join?"

"The honor is mine."

Their nighttime reconnaissance was set for the beginning of Hai hour (9 PM).

With the sun still up, there was no rush.

Lu Jianwei reclined on the low couch, closing her eyes to rest.

After days of travel, the journey was nothing strenuous for a ninth-rank Martial King, but matters concerning the Carefree Sect weighed heavily on her mind.

"Is Helian Zheng truly at the peak of the eighth rank?"

"That's what the intelligence reports say," Pei Zhi replied, retrieving an incense burner from his pack and lighting a stick of sandalwood. "But the information dates back to last July—there's a chance he may have broken through since then."

The fragrant smoke curled through the air, gradually soothing Lu Jianwei's restless thoughts. Half-lidded, she patted the empty space beside her on the low couch.

"Stay and rest with me awhile."

Pei Zhi smiled softly. "Gladly."