No Fighting Allowed in the Inn-Chapter 66

◎Lan Ling’s Probe, a Seventh-Level Martial King◎

Business thrives on fairness. If Hong Yingjie wanted her to act, he had to show some sincerity.

He came seeking help, spouting lofty words, but his real goal was to protect the profits the canal trade brought them.

All that talk about the suffering of the common people? Utter nonsense.

"Shopkeeper Lu, I know your usual fee for saving a life is ten thousand taels," Hong Yingjie asked cautiously. "But how much would it cost to save the entire Giant Whale Gang—several thousand lives?"

Lu Jianwei: "Thirty percent of the Giant Whale Gang’s revenue for the next five years."

She needed to accumulate wealth quickly, and that meant finding extra income.

She didn’t think her demand was excessive, but Hong Yingjie was left speechless.

"If you can’t make the decision, go ask your father," Lu Jianwei said, as if suddenly remembering something. "Is Gang Leader Hong still conscious despite his severe injuries?"

Hong Yingjie snapped out of his daze and clasped his hands in respect.

"Shopkeeper Lu, this matter concerns the livelihood of all our brothers. I truly can’t decide on my own. My father isn’t unconscious—I’ll go consult him. I’ll take my leave now."

The others understood.

Hong Yingjie’s visit had been orchestrated by Hong He.

Hong He might indeed be injured, but not critically. His mind was still sharp. Sending his son to the inn was a test—to gauge Shopkeeper Lu’s stance and secure a lifeline for the Giant Whale Gang.

"Young Hero Wen certainly cares deeply for the people," Lan Ling remarked with a smile, her gaze lingering on A'Nai. "And so handsome too. To reach the fourth level at such a young age—I…"

"Shopkeeper Lu, I’m off to buy medicine!" A'Nai blurted out before darting away like a startled rabbit.

Lan Ling chuckled as if she’d found an amusing toy. "Am I really that terrifying? Everyone runs from me like I’m some kind of monster."

"Age-wise, you could be his mother," Lu Jianwei said bluntly.

Lan Ling’s smile vanished.

"Shopkeeper Lu, why ruin the mood by bringing that up?"

With that, she flitted back upstairs.

Lu Jianwei reopened her book.

"Little Host, have you scanned the eight chests?"

"Scan complete."

"How much?"

"Silver and valuables combined—two million taels."

"That’s an interesting number," Lu Jianwei mused, raising an eyebrow. "The same as the ransom the Martial Alliance paid before."

"Probably just a coincidence."

Lu Jianwei smirked. "The ransom might be coincidental, but how is it that only Yang Jidu knew about the Zhou family obtaining the ‘Polar Gold Silkworm’? He was just a deputy hall master—how could he bypass higher-ranking figures to seize such a treasure? And then, the Thousand Miles Pavilion used the same ‘Polar Gold Silkworm’ to frame me. Doesn’t that seem too convenient?"

"Does it?"

"Their logic chains are airtight, with plausible reasons to drag me into their schemes. But there’s still one crucial piece missing."

"What?"

"How exactly did Yang Jidu learn about the ‘Polar Gold Silkworm’?"

Little Host was baffled.

"Didn’t the Thousand Miles Pavilion know too? It’s not strange if others found out. If not Yang Jidu, it could’ve been Yang Shidu, Yang Baidu—"

"Pfft." Lu Jianwei couldn’t hold back a laugh.

"What’s so funny?"

"Nothing, just a familiar-sounding name." She resumed her analysis. "As an intelligence organization, the Thousand Miles Pavilion’s information network is formidable. If they knew about the ‘Polar Gold Silkworm’ before Yang Jidu, why didn’t they act on it? And if they learned after him, how does that fit their reputation? Again—why frame me instead of going after the treasure themselves?"

"..."

Little Host was thoroughly lost.

It was just a system—it couldn’t untangle these convoluted schemes.

The more Lu Jianwei followed this thread, the more she sensed hidden machinations.

If she could uncover how Yang Jidu got his information, she might unravel the entire plot and expose the true mastermind.

But Yang Jidu was dead, and his secrets buried with him.

By lunchtime, Lan Ling had already made herself at home. Without needing an invitation, she descended at the perfect moment and settled beside Lu Jianwei, leaning in with a coy smile.

The staff barely batted an eye, focusing on their meals.

"Miss Lan, why do you keep staring at me?" Lu Jianwei asked.

Lan Ling parted her red lips. "Back in Fengzhou, you never mentioned how impressive your sect was. When I first heard, I was stunned for ages. I just find you fascinating."

"What’s so fascinating?"

"A ninth-level Martial King guarding you in secret—even the Young Master of the Carefree Sect doesn’t get that kind of treatment. Your sect must dote on you."

Lu Jianwei chuckled inwardly. I dote on myself—what’s wrong with that?

"The Carefree Sect?"

"You’ve never heard of the Carefree Sect?" Lan Ling feigned shock. "Has your sect truly been secluded for so long, cut off from the world?"

Lu Jianwei played along. "I’ve heard the name, but I don’t know the details. Is that strange?"

"Not at all," Yan Feicang interjected sharply. "Focusing on martial arts is the true path. The storms of the martial world aren’t worth our attention."

"Exactly! What’s so great about the Carefree Sect? Why should we care?" Xue Guanhe chimed in.

Uncle Zhang nodded. "We’re just running a business here. It’s not odd if we’re out of the loop."

Yue Shu and Tiao voiced their agreement.

"..."

Lan Ling, defeated by their solidarity, turned to seek an ally.

"Young Master Wen, as the wealthiest man in Jiangnan, surely you’ve heard of the Carefree Sect?"

Wen Zhuzhi: "Only in passing. I know little about it."

"What, are you flaunting your status as an intelligence elder to bully us ignorant folk?" A'Nai retorted.

Lan Ling sighed. "The Carefree Sect may be semi-reclusive, but it’s hailed as the number one sect in the world. The most beautiful woman in the martial world hails from there."

"The most beautiful woman?" Xue Guanhe perked up. "Who?"

Lan Ling’s laughter tinkled like silver bells. Her slender brows arched as her gaze swept over him suggestively.

"Young man, eager to meet her?"

"N-no!" Xue Guanhe shook his head frantically. "To me, my mother and Shopkeeper Lu are the most beautiful in the world!"

Lan Ling’s eyes glimmered.

"Am I not beautiful?"

"Uh…" Xue Guanhe scrambled. "Isn’t my cooking delicious? Why aren’t you eating instead of talking?"

Lan Ling: "..."

These employees were impossible to handle.

"Ah, you’ve all derailed the conversation," she huffed, steering it back. "Shopkeeper Lu, truthfully, you’re the first to leave our intelligence agents utterly stumped. Your sect, your martial arts, your medical skills—all shrouded in mystery. It’s maddening."

Lu Jianwei nodded solemnly. "I sympathize with your struggles. Just like me—there are some puzzles I can’t solve."

"Like what?"

"How did your pavilion learn that Yang Jidu was after the ‘Polar Gold Silkworm’? With such intelligence channels, you must have spies in the Martial Alliance. If so, why didn’t you pursue the treasure immediately?" Lu Jianwei countered. "Your indifference to such a treasure is truly admirable."

Lan Ling blinked, then covered her mouth with a tinkling laugh. "Shopkeeper Lu, you misunderstand. Our pavilion only learned of it afterward. Villainous Xia was the one who framed you—I even fought him over it!"

"Is that so?" Lu Jianwei smiled faintly.

"As for the 'Polar Golden Silkworm,' how could such a divine creature appear so easily and end up in the hands of some ordinary old man? I don't believe it for a second."

Lu Jianwei nodded. "That makes sense."

"The Zhou family case isn't worth discussing," Lan Ling leaned closer, her sweet, cloying perfume wafting over. "Proprietress Lu, I'm far more curious about your sect."

"Really want to know?"

"Of course! Who isn't curious about that Martial King senior these days?"

Lu Jianwei set down her chopsticks.

"What if I told you my sect doesn’t exist? Would you believe me?"

Lan Ling: "...You must be joking."

"You see, when I tell the truth, you don’t believe me, but if I fabricate a lie, my conscience won’t allow it. Quite the dilemma." Lu Jianwei sighed, then stood. "Miss Lan, enjoy your meal."

Her figure disappeared around the staircase.

Lan Ling watched her ascend, then turned to glare at the others at the table. "Do you believe her?"

They nodded in unison. "We do!"

Whatever the proprietress says goes!

Lan Ling tossed her chopsticks aside, too furious to eat another bite.

Lu Jianwei returned to her room and instructed Xiao Ke to accept the compensation from Thousand Miles Tower.

Two million taels, plus the ransom from those martial artists earlier—ignoring the smaller sums, it totaled seven million taels, all deposited into her private account. She was one step closer to a hundred million.

The journey home seemed within reach.

"Xiao Ke, if a few more of these fools come knocking, will I finally be able to return?"

"Your reputation has spread. Most wouldn’t dare provoke you now, fearing the Ninth Rank Martial King."

"True." Lu Jianwei sighed regretfully.

This strategy had its pros and cons, but overall, the benefits outweighed the drawbacks.

She retrieved a medical text and resumed studying its profound knowledge when Lan Ling’s voice drifted up from below.

"Young Master Wen, your estate in Southern Prefecture spans a hundred acres. Why do you insist on paying exorbitant prices to stay at an inn?"

Wen Zhuzhi didn’t answer, but A'Nai exploded like a firecracker. "None of your business!"

"Oh, but it is." Lan Ling laughed, her silver bells tinkling. "As a Thousand Miles Tower elder, I know many secrets. Lately, though, I’ve been feeling… inadequate. Proprietress Lu is one mystery, and Young Master Wen is another."

"You flatter me, Warrior Lan," Wen Zhuzhi replied mildly. "A'Nai, let’s retire."

A'Nai pushed the wheelchair away without hesitation.

"Young Master Wen, could it be that you’ve taken a liking to Proprietress Lu and are deliberately funneling money her way?" Lan Ling pressed a hand to her chest. "How touching."

Xue Guanhe and the others gaped, their eyes fixed on Wen Zhuzhi.

Was this true?

"What nonsense!" A'Nai spluttered, red-faced. "Proprietress Lu is a brilliant physician. The young master stays here for his health—nothing more! You’re utterly unreasonable!"

"You’re rattled." Lan Ling’s three words left A'Nai trembling with rage, speechless.

Wen Zhuzhi turned, his features bathed in the gentle sunlight—refined yet warm, like jade polished over time, bearing both heaven’s grace and the artisan’s skill, a living painting.

"What answer did Warrior Lan hope to hear?"

Lan Ling smirked. "Have you decided, Young Master Wen?"

"Proprietress Lu is transcendent in spirit and bone, while I am but a common man, unworthy of tainting her presence. If I may bask in her care and live a little longer, that alone is enough."

"How intriguing." Lan Ling’s crimson lips curved. "With so many divine physicians in the world, why fixate on Proprietress Lu?"

"Jiangzhou has no shortage of inns. Why linger here?"

Lan Ling studied him for a long moment before suddenly declaring, "You’re far too handsome. Why not come with me? If you do, I’ll have the Tower spare no effort in finding your antidote."

"If Thousand Miles Tower can procure the antidote, I’ll reward you handsomely." Wen Zhuzhi sidestepped her offer, turning it into a transaction.

Lan Ling snorted. "How dull."

She leaped upstairs in a flutter of robes.

A'Nai ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​‌‌‌‍wheeled Wen Zhuzhi back to their room.

"Young Master, was she testing you?" he whispered.

Wen Zhuzhi closed his eyes. "It’s of no consequence."

Upstairs, Lu Jianwei touched her face, uncharacteristically self-conscious. Transcendent in spirit and bone? Did she even come close?

Truly, the words of an official’s son—so eloquently deceptive.

At the beginning of the Shen hour, Hong He arrived in person.

He was indeed injured—pale-faced, lips bloodless, the scent of medicine clinging to him. Likely a minor wound, already treated.

"Proprietress Lu." Hong He bowed deeply. "Earlier, I feared my disheveled state might offend, so I sent my son in my stead. The boy is crude and foolish—if he misspoke, I beg your forgiveness."

Lu Jianwei sat with a cup of tea at her side, its fragrance filling the hall.

Having managed river transport for years, Hong He had connections—once, he’d even acquired two taels of premium tea leaves, a treasure he’d savored for ages.

White Silk Fragrant Screen—yes, this was the aroma.

No amount of wealth could guarantee such a purchase.

Back then, he’d hoarded those two taels, sipping sparingly, reluctant to share. Yet here was Proprietress Lu, brewing it so liberally—her private stash must be vast.

Lu Jianwei smiled. "Have you reached a decision, Chief Hong?"

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"Proprietress Lu, to be frank, my gang has thousands of mouths to feed. If we surrender thirty percent of our annual revenue, we’d struggle to survive."

"Your son’s spear cost two hundred thousand, yet you didn’t blink. Divided among your men, that’s dozens of taels each—enough to sustain a family for a year. And now you plead poverty?"

Hong He grimaced. "The accounts aren’t so simple, Proprietress Lu. That two hundred thousand was my life’s savings, separate from gang funds—it doesn’t affect their livelihoods."

"As chief, you pocket at least eighty percent. Surrendering thirty leaves you fifty—how does that harm your men?" Lu Jianwei’s tone cooled. "Chief Hong, if you lack sincerity, let’s end this discussion. Uncle Zhang, see him out."

"Wait, please!" Hong He’s face fell. "Proprietress Lu, it’s nothing like you imagine! From this waterway’s earnings, I barely take fifty percent, let alone eighty!"

Lu Jianwei sipped her tea, silent, her gaze elsewhere.

"I swear it’s true. Though I oversee Jiangzhou’s transport, I must grease countless palms—ten percent here, twenty there. What’s left for me?"

"Oh? And who receives these tributes?"

Hong He forced a smile. "Proprietress Lu, such matters… aren’t for open discussion."

"So you came here to spout nonsense?" Lu Jianwei set down her cup. "Chief Hong, you’re bold indeed."

Her gentle tone sent chills down his spine.

Hong He stiffened.

How could he forget? This proprietress wasn’t the harmless figure she appeared.

The Inn of Eight Directions never provoked conflicts—but that didn’t make it weak.

If anything, its neutrality made it more enigmatic.

Hong He regretted his arrogance.

"Proprietress Lu, I’ve been a fool. Please overlook my blunder."

Lu Jianwei’s smile returned.

"No matter. Bargaining is part of trade. So long as both parties are satisfied in the end, past disputes can be forgotten."

"Your magnanimity shames me, Proprietress Lu."

"Shall we talk now?" Lu Jianwei instructed, "Bring a seat for Gang Leader Hong."

Yue Shu promptly carried over a chair.

"Thank you." Hong He sat down and spoke earnestly, "Hong has come this time to seek your aid, Shopkeeper Lu. The Giant Whale Gang has long been at odds with my Azure Dragon Gang, repeatedly provoking conflicts in an attempt to seize control of the entire river trade. After years of struggle, neither side has emerged victorious."

"This time, you lost."

"Yes, I lost." Hong He lowered his head in shame. "The leader of the Giant Whale Gang, Sun Jing, previously matched me in internal strength. But just days ago, he broke through to the sixth level and immediately came to challenge me. He injured me and gave me three days to surrender—otherwise, he would lead his entire gang to wipe out the Azure Dragon Gang."

"How do you want me to help?" Lu Jianwei rested her chin on her hand. "Defeat Sun Jing for you?"

"Shopkeeper Lu is perceptive. In three days, at the border between Jiangzhou and Nanzhou's waterways, we are destined for a decisive battle. But I am injured, and my internal strength is no match for his. I have no choice but to shamelessly ask for your assistance."

Lu Jianwei asked, "Do you want him dead?"

"Ah?" Hong He was taken aback. "Since it's a duel, naturally there must be a victor. What does Shopkeeper Lu mean?"

"It's just a dispute over profit—why resort to bloodshed?" Lu Jianwei smiled faintly. "Since Gang Leader Hong can't offer thirty percent of your revenue, I can always find someone else to do business with."

"Shopkeeper Lu—"

"Yan Feicang," Lu Jianwei cut him off, "go to the Giant Whale Gang and ask Gang Leader Sun if he’s willing to discuss a deal with me."

Yan Feicang understood her intent. "And if he refuses?"

"The river trade is lucrative. There are plenty who’d be willing to take over." Lu Jianwei replied. "Someone sensible will emerge."

Her only goal was profit. Whoever could pay would get her cooperation.

As for fighting and killing? Out of the question.

Yan Feicang accepted the order and turned to leave immediately.

"Shopkeeper Lu—" Hong He cried out in alarm. "Shopkeeper Lu, we haven’t even finished negotiating! Let’s talk this through properly. You suddenly pulling this move—I’m practically ready to kneel before you!"

"Gang Leader Hong, I couldn’t care less who controls the river trade. I have no interest in your conflicts. But since you’ve come to me for help, show some sincerity."

Hong He grumbled inwardly: I’ve never seen someone so blatantly demand money like this!

Wiping cold sweat from his brow, he forced a dry laugh. "Shopkeeper Lu, since we’ve come this far, I’ll be honest. Most of the gang’s earnings don’t even reach me. Asking for thirty percent outright—I truly can’t manage that. How about fifteen?"

"Perhaps I should invite Gang Leader Sun here and ask how much he can offer." Lu Jianwei remained unmoved.

Hong He grimaced. "Twenty percent. That’s truly the limit. Any more, and I won’t be able to justify it."

"If you’re already handing over so much silver to others every year, why not ask them for help in your time of need instead of turning to an outsider like me?" Lu Jianwei asked curiously. "Is it because they can’t intervene?"

Hong He stayed silent.

But his silence spoke volumes.

Xue Guanhe couldn’t hold back. "Then why bother paying them at all?"

The others wondered the same.

Hong He shook his head helplessly, unsure how to respond.

"I know why," Yan Feicang suddenly spoke up.

"Why?"

"Take the Martial Alliance, for example. Every year, they collect tribute from smaller sects and factions. Without it, they couldn’t sustain their vast operations. But the Martial Alliance doesn’t interfere in conflicts between those beneath them."

"I see," Yue Shu realized. "As long as they get their tribute, the Martial Alliance couldn’t care less who controls the lucrative trades."

Xue Guanhe: "If they don’t interfere, why bother paying them?"

"Simple," Uncle Zhang explained. "Refuse to pay, and you won’t even survive."

Such was the ruthlessness of the martial world.

There were acts of heroism and charity, but the relentless pursuit of profit was the unshakable truth—hidden beneath grand, untouchable reputations, festering endlessly.

This so-called "tribute" wasn’t protection money. It was the price of survival.

To those in power, the Azure Dragon Gang and the Giant Whale Gang were nothing but ants supplying silver.

And who cared if ants fought among themselves?

Xue Guanhe once again realized how much more complicated the martial world was than he’d imagined.

Only by becoming strong could one avoid being swept up in these machinations.

"Shopkeeper Lu, our Azure Dragon Gang may seem like Jiangzhou’s top faction, but in truth, we’re just insects scrambling for scraps." Hong He’s eyes reddened as he poured out his grievances.

Lu Jianwei: "I sympathize, but I won’t change my stance for you. Compared to those who take your money and do nothing, at least I’m willing to help you through this crisis."

Hong He: "..."

"Shopkeeper Lu has a cruel heart," Lan Ling chimed in, descending the stairs to join the conversation. "Old Hong, why not forget her and pledge yourself to my Thousand Miles Tower instead?"

Hong He was surprised but unmoved.

"What? My Thousand Miles Tower isn’t good enough for you?" Lan Ling frowned, shaking her wrist bells irritably.

Hong He hurriedly explained, "Senior Lan misunderstands. How could Hong ever look down on the Thousand Miles Tower? It’s just... it’s just..."

"If the ones he pays tribute to are the Black Wind Fort, wouldn’t joining you put him in a difficult position?" Lu Jianwei interjected on his behalf. "Miss Lan, if you keep interrupting my business so casually, should I assume your coffers are overflowing?"

Lan Ling huffed. "Fine, fine, I won’t interrupt. I just think you’re dragging this out. Why not kill him outright? Then you could strong-arm that Whale Gang into handing over forty, even fifty percent!"

"My sect’s rules forbid profiting through bloodshed. You’ll have to excuse me, Miss Lan."

"What kind of sect is that? Such ridiculous rules!"

Lu Jianwei’s tone remained gentle.

"If not for those rules, after the siege in Fengzhou, neither your Thousand Miles Tower nor the Black Wind Fort would have survived to this day. Still think they’re ridiculous?"

Her words, though softly spoken, carried a chilling edge.

Lan Ling stiffened momentarily before forcing a laugh.

"I just feel bad for you, wasting time on this clueless old man. If it were me, I’d have ended him with one move."

Hong He broke out in a cold sweat, droplets rolling down his temples.

"Then... thirty percent it is. As long as the Giant Whale Gang stops provoking us, and you don’t need to take Sun Jing’s life."

At worst, he and his brothers would tighten their belts for five years.

Lu Jianwei smiled.

"Deal." She added, "But for those five years, you won’t exploit the common folk."

"Of course, of course."

"In three days, wait by the river. Yan Feicang will accompany you." Lu Jianwei turned to Yan Feicang. "Gather information first. Fighting is a last resort."

She wasn’t sending him to brawl—she wanted the truth.

She only trusted thirty percent of what Hong He said.

Yan Feicang nodded in understanding.

"Thank you, Shopkeeper Lu." Hong He clasped his hands toward Yan Feicang. "I’ll be relying on Senior Yan then."

With his worries eased, he visibly relaxed. Not daring to linger, he quickly took his leave.

As the sun dipped westward, Xue Guanhe headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

A'Nai was tending to the medicinal stew by the stove, having overheard the conversation in the hall earlier. He couldn’t help but sigh, "What does Shopkeeper Lu even do with all the money she earns? Is her sect really that desperate for funds?"

"No idea," Xue Guanhe replied, uninterested in that topic. What puzzled him was, "Why can’t Gang Leader Hong Yingjie pledge allegiance to the Thousand Miles Tower, yet he’s willing to ask Shopkeeper Lu for help?"

Wasn’t it essentially the same thing?

A'Nai asked, "Do you know anything about Shopkeeper Lu’s sect?"

"Nope."

"Well, there you go. Gang Leader Hong is appealing to Lu Jianwei the freelancer—what does that have to do with her sect?"

"Got it."

Xue Guanhe added, "With Brother Yan stepping in, the Giant Whale Gang wouldn’t dare act recklessly."

"Not necessarily."

"Why not? Brother Yan broke through to the sixth rank years ago, while the Giant Whale Gang’s leader only just reached it. There’s no way he’d lose."

A'Nai raised an eyebrow. "What if the Giant Whale Gang also finds a backer?"

"Could they really find someone stronger than Brother Yan?"

"Your Brother Yan may be the number one blade master in the martial world, but he’s hardly the strongest overall. Plenty out there could overpower him."

"No way…" Xue Guanhe sounded less certain now.

Three days passed in the blink of an eye.

On an otherwise ordinary morning, Yan Feicang set foot on the Green Dragon Gang’s boat under the glow of dawn, heading for the border where the waterways of Fengzhou and Jiangzhou met.

The round trip would take only four hours. If a peaceful resolution could be reached, they’d return victorious before sunset.

Lu Jianwei had spent the day buried in books, her head aching from the strain. Stepping out of her room, she leaned against the railing, gazing at the river.

Suddenly, a boat rounded the bend in the waterway, slowly making its way toward the inn.

The banner on the ship fluttered in the wind, the bold character "Whale" glaringly visible.

A figure stood tall at the bow, exuding an intimidating aura.

A seventh-rank Martial King!