◎The Most Beautiful Woman, Dada City, Sacred Medicine Hall◎
Outside the pavilion, wind and rain raged; inside, the air was heavy with silence.
Yan Feicang stood with his arms crossed, holding his blade, not sparing a single glance at the man before him, as if his words were nothing but empty noise.
Zhao Rui, seething with fury, unleashed the oppressive aura of a sixth-rank martial artist, his inner force so powerful it even diverted the rain outside the pavilion.
Yan Feicang unsheathed his blade in response, the sharp gust of his sword energy blocking Zhao Rui’s attack before surging toward him with even greater force.
Their inner forces collided midair—neither gaining the upper hand.
Zhao Rui was stunned. He hadn’t expected to encounter such a formidable opponent in this remote place.
He scrutinized Yan Feicang, then his blade, and a faint suspicion arose in his mind.
Before he could speak, Bian Xingzhou, standing nearby, gracefully flicked open a folding fan he had drawn from his waist sash and remarked with a smile,
"Yan Clan’s Surging Waves Blade—truly lives up to its reputation."
Zhao Rui rolled his eyes. Stop pretending!
"Brother Yan, I meant no offense," Zhao Rui said, his arrogance diminishing slightly as he withdrew his inner force. "My eyes failed to recognize you earlier. You’re welcome to rest in the pavilion."
Lu Jianwei: Ah, judging people by their status—how fitting.
This man must hail from a major sect, one that doesn’t bother with trivial gossip in the martial world. Even if he recognized Yan Feicang, he wouldn’t know he was now employed by the Eight Directions Inn.
This makes things even more interesting.
Yan Feicang sheathed his blade, the metallic clang of hilt against scabbard echoing through the pavilion.
He neither asked for Zhao Rui’s identity nor responded to his words.
Such indifference only fueled Zhao Rui’s irritation.
But Yan Feicang was the number one blade master in the martial world. Zhao Rui didn’t want to risk a full-blown fight in front of the beauty—what if he lost and tarnished his image in her eyes?
Frustration coiled in his chest, but since he couldn’t vent it on Yan Feicang, he turned his anger toward the others in the pavilion.
"All of you, get out! Don’t disturb Xue’er’s peace!"
A gust of wind howled past, carrying fine raindrops that pattered against the upturned eaves.
No one moved.
Zhao Rui: ???
Are these people deaf?!
Bian Xingzhou leaned against a pillar, lazily fanning himself, as if the whole affair had nothing to do with him.
Lu Jianwei sat on a stone stool, one hand propping her chin on the stone table, the other resting on her knee.
Hidden beneath the table, a small pebble appeared in her palm.
She had collected smooth, pretty stones along the journey, storing them in her system’s inventory to use as hidden projectiles. After nearly two months of travel, her backpack was filled with all kinds of pebbles—ready to be deployed at any moment.
A pebble the size of a fingernail, infused with eighth-rank inner force, shot out at an impossibly tricky angle—thunk!—and struck Zhao Rui squarely between the eyebrows.
The pebble bounced off his forehead and clattered to the ground, leaving a swollen lump in its wake.
Zhao Rui blinked, touched the spot, hissed in pain, then erupted in fury. He whipped out a flexible sword from his waist and glared around the pavilion.
"Who did that?!"
Still, no one answered.
Only Bian Xingzhou’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.
"Bian Xingzhou! Was it you?!" Zhao Rui snarled, thrusting his sword at him. "You sneaky, hypocritical bastard!"
The fan’s steel ribs intercepted the sword tip with a crisp clang.
Though the fan appeared fragile, its frame was forged from fine steel, its sixteen ribs intricately designed—with hidden mechanisms inside.
As the sword struck, a silver glint shot from the fan’s handle, aiming straight for Zhao Rui’s face.
The flexible sword twisted back, deflecting the needle before it could land.
The needle fell silently, drowned out by the storm.
"Brother Zhao, must you be so reckless?" Bian Xingzhou chuckled, fanning himself as he studied Lu Jianwei and the others. "I am Bian Xingzhou of the Wulin Alliance’s Purple Star Hall. Might I ask which of you noble warriors made that move just now?"
The Wulin Alliance?
Old acquaintances.
Lu Jianwei stayed silent, and the others followed suit, staring back at Bian Xingzhou with blank expressions, as if they had no idea what was happening.
"Bian Xingzhou, stop playing dumb! It had to be you! Today, I’ll make you kneel and beg for forgiveness!"
His sword lashed out again, its chilling energy slicing through the air, heedless of the bystanders in the pavilion.
A soft sigh drifted into his ears.
The sword froze. The wind stilled.
Zhao Rui jerked back to awareness, sheathing his weapon as he turned toward the white-robed woman by the railing. "Xue’er, I—I’m sorry. I was too reckless. Do you… do you find me annoying? I was wrong. I shouldn’t have lost my temper again."
"Xue’er, he’s always this crude and ill-mannered," Bian Xingzhou interjected smoothly. "Don’t waste your energy being upset over him."
Zhao Rui: "You—"
"The rain has stopped." The beauty’s voice was soft as a whisper. "Lvluo, let’s go."
The maid, Lvluo, responded brightly and followed her out of the pavilion.
Zhao Rui had no time to bicker with Bian Xingzhou anymore—he hastily mounted his horse and chased after them.
The four figures gradually vanished into the distance.
"What… just happened to me?" Xue Guanhe muttered, rubbing his temples. "I felt like my mind wasn’t my own."
Yue Shu frowned. "Me too. Was it some kind of charm technique?"
"It wasn’t charm magic," A'Nai said. "That man with Bian Xingzhou was likely Zhao Rui, son of the Zhao Clan elder from the Sky Pillar Sect. Rumor has it those two are infatuated with a woman to the point of madness."
Liang Shangjun dusted himself off as he stood. "The woman just now was He Lianxue, the most beautiful woman in the martial world—daughter of the Carefree Sect’s leader."
"But I didn’t even see her face! How could just her voice make me lose focus? Are you sure it wasn’t charm magic?" Xue Guanhe pressed.
A'Nai explained, "He Lianxue specializes in sound-based attacks. She’s skilled in all kinds of musical instruments, and her unique cultivation method has turned her voice into an instrument itself. You lost focus because of her sonic attack. She hasn’t mastered it yet, so she rarely speaks in public."
Xue Guanhe stroked his chin. "How do you know so much?"
"I’ve been wandering the martial world for a long time. Of course I know things."
"Really?"
A'Nai swiftly changed the subject. "Manager Lu, the rain’s stopped. Should we go?"
Lu Jianwei, having enjoyed the spectacle, lazily rose to her feet.
"Let’s go."
A day and a half later, the eight of them finally arrived at Dada City.
Dada City was built on trade between the Central Plains and the Southwest. Unlike cities in the heartlands, its walls were low and made of packed earth, offering little in the way of defense.
Calling it a "city" was generous—it was more like a dilapidated town.
True to its name, entering the "City of Glittering Gold" required payment.
The entry fee was a hundred coins per person—more extortionate than a bandit’s toll.
Liang Shangjun, who had volunteered as their guide, explained at their puzzled looks, "Manager, most of the goods traded in Dada City are rare local herbs. Merchants from the Central Plains also bring in porcelain, tea, silk, and other valuables. If someone can’t even afford a hundred coins, they have no business entering."
The group: "..."
So they discriminate against the poor.
Lu Jianwei’s gaze landed on a man carrying a bamboo basket on his back.
"He looks rich?"
The man wore a sweat-stained headband, a gray short-sleeved tunic, wide-legged pants that ended at his ankles, and straw sandals. His skin was sun-darkened, his face weathered, and his hands clutched the straps of his basket tightly.
"He’s a local, probably selling mountain goods. Locals don’t pay the entry fee," Liang Shangjun said. "Only outsiders from the Central Plains have to pay a hundred coins."
A'Nai scoffed. "Dada City only welcomes wealthy outsiders."
"That does sound reasonable." Xue Guanhe nodded, pulling six hundred coins from his pocket and handing them to the city gate guard.
A'Nai took out two hundred coins.
The guard was tall and burly, wielding a bamboo halberd. He had no internal energy—just an ordinary local resident.
Yet no one dared to act recklessly inside or outside the city gates.
Many Central Plains travelers came here, so Lu Jianwei's group of eight didn’t attract much attention. After entering the city, they followed Wen Zhuzhi’s carriage toward the northern market.
Before departing from Jiangzhou, Wen Zhuzhi had already arranged for someone to secure a shopfront in Dada City. Two months later, the inn should have been completed.
Dada City was unlike towns in the Central Plains. Its shops and residences were all stilt houses built from bamboo.
Yunnan was humid and warm, with dense forests teeming with insects and snakes. The ground floor was usually uninhabited, used instead for storing grain or keeping livestock.
The branch of the Eight Directions Inn naturally adapted to local customs.
The courtyard’s layout remained unchanged—stables and dormitories on either side—but the main building and dormitories were now stilt houses.
Due to bamboo’s limited load-bearing capacity, the main building only had two habitable floors. Though called an inn, it was essentially just a temporary residence for the eight in Dada City.
Whether it could actually operate as an inn was another matter.
The main building had twelve rooms—nine on the second floor and three on the third. Lu Jianwei still occupied the central room on the third floor.
The five attendants, including Xue Guanhe, freely chose their rooms on the second floor.
The three dormitory rooms were entirely taken by Wen Zhuzhi and his servant. The dormitories were designed with a long, sloping ramp for wheelchair access.
Once settled, the attendants busied themselves.
Some chopped firewood, others fetched water, and the rest prepared meals—everything proceeded in an orderly fashion.
Smack! Xue Guanhe slapped a mosquito dead and stared at the corpse in his palm, exclaiming, "The mosquitoes here are huge!"
Tiao took out a ceramic jar from her medicine pouch and handed it to him.
"What’s this?"
"Mosquito repellent. It also soothes itching."
Xue Guanhe took it, scooped out some ointment, and dabbed it on the bite. Instantly, a cooling sensation spread, relieving the itch.
"It really works!"
Tiao distributed the repellent to the other attendants as well.
"Can I have a few jars too?" A'Nai scratched the back of his hand and hurried over. "I can pay."
Tiao replied, "Five taels per jar."
"Fine, five taels it is." A'Nai spent fifteen taels on three jars and told Wen Zhuzhi in their room, "Master, I’ll go out later to buy some insect-repelling herbs."
The southwest had no shortage of such herbs.
Just then, the courtyard gate creaked open as someone entered.
Wen Zhuzhi wheeled out of the room and looked down the corridor at the newcomer.
Dressed in typical ethnic attire, the man wore a light flaxen headband around his forehead. His features were ordinary, but he was lean and sturdy.
Spotting Wen Zhuzhi, he flashed a row of neat teeth and beamed, "Master Wen, you’ve all arrived?" His Central Plains dialect carried a heavy accent.
Wen Zhuzhi smiled and nodded. "You’ve worked hard these past months."
"Not at all, not at all." The man set down his bamboo basket and pulled out fresh herbs. "I figured you’d arrive soon, so I gathered these insect-repelling herbs. Boil them into a solution and sprinkle it around the courtyard—no insects or snakes will come near."
Tiao stepped closer to examine them. "Susu grass."
"You know herbs, little sister?" The man grinned warmly. "Yes, susu grass—great for driving away pests."
A'Nai leaned on the railing and called out, "Amusha, don’t underestimate her. She’s a highly skilled physician."
"Physician?" Amusha’s expression turned respectful. "Such a young sister, already a shaman!"
"What’s a shaman?" Yue Shu asked curiously.
Amusha explained, "Shamans are our village healers—they exorcise evil and cure illnesses. Whenever someone falls gravely ill, we call for a shaman. They’re very powerful, but I’ve never seen one as young as Sister Tiao."
"Sister Tiao really is amazing," Yue Shu said proudly.
Amusha gave a thumbs-up before turning back to Wen Zhuzhi.
"Master Wen, I’ll go boil the herbs now."
Wen Zhuzhi replied, "Thank you."
"No need for formalities. You saved my life—this is the least I can do." Amusha laughed heartily. "When you have time, you must visit my home. Bring all your dabin along."
"Of course."
Amusha headed to the kitchen with his basket, where Xue Guanhe happened to be lighting the stove. They exchanged a few words before focusing on their tasks.
"Master Wen, what’s a dabin?" Yue Shu asked in the courtyard.
Liang Shangjun popped up out of nowhere and answered for him, "It means ‘friends.’"
"Oh! You really know everything."
"Naturally. There’s no language I don’t understand," Liang Shangjun boasted, crossing his legs. "But don’t wander around unfamiliar places, or you might get lost with no one to ask for directions."
Yue Shu nodded obediently. "Understood."
After sprinkling the herbal solution, Amusha left the inn. He lived in a mountain village outside the city and needed to return before dark.
"Wait." A'Nai stopped him and pressed a bag of candy into his hands. "Take this back for your younger siblings."
Amusha clutched the bag, his grin widening.
Sugar was a rarity in Yunnan. In the past, villagers barely tasted sweetness all year. Only after trade with the Central Plains began did merchants bring small lumps of sugar, exchanging them for herbs or animal pelts.
But sugar was always in short demand—even Central Plains folk struggled to afford it, let alone Yunnan’s common villagers. Most of the merchants’ sugar ended up in the hands of wealthy clans, leaving little for ordinary folk like Amusha’s family.
He thanked A'Nai profusely, carefully tucking the candy into his bamboo basket. Not daring to carry it on his back, he held it in one hand, covering it with dense bamboo leaves.
The courtyard gate closed again.
By now, everyone was starving, but Xue Guanhan worked quickly, and soon the meal was ready.
For convenience, the dining hall wasn’t in the main building. Instead, a separate bamboo structure housed the kitchen and dining area, while the main building was reserved for rest.
After eating their fill, everyone dispersed to their own tasks.
Lu Jianwei stopped Wen Zhuzhi in the front courtyard.
"Give me the ledger for the inn’s construction. I’ll reimburse you shortly."
Wen Zhuzhi had arranged and funded the inn’s construction, but Lu Jianwei had no intention of taking advantage.
At Wen Zhuzhi’s glance, A'Nai retrieved a thin ledger from their room and handed it to Lu Jianwei.
Bamboo was plentiful here, so the main expenses were land and labor. The total cost—forty-five taels—was far less than she’d expected.
After paying, she asked, "Do you know where Lin Congyue lived before her death?"
Lin Congyue had died in the southwest. Hu Jiuniang’s "Journey to the Underworld" poison and its partial antidote recipe had been retrieved from her former residence, and Dou Ting had stolen her final journal from there as well.
The Soul-Severing Ridge was perilous—better to visit Lin Congyue’s home first for clues.
Wen Zhuzhi held the money pouch and looked up at her. "West of Soul-Severing Ridge. But ten years ago, that area wasn’t yet part of the Miao territory."
"Now located in the Miao tribe?" Lu Jianwei murmured thoughtfully. "The Miao are a prominent clan in Dianzhou, having lived deep in the mountains for generations. They are the most mysterious group in Dianzhou and extremely unwelcoming to outsiders. It would be unwise to go there recklessly."
She had read books from Luzhou Academy and had some understanding of the tribal dynamics in the southwest.
Dianzhou was home to three major clans—or tribes, one might say.
The Buwa tribe was the most mild-tempered, and most of their trade dealings were with the Central Plains. The Yi tribe was fierce and combative, known for their savagery. The Miao, however, were the most enigmatic, residing deep in the mountains and rarely interacting with the outside world.
Since they were newcomers, caution was paramount. This matter required careful consideration.
She asked, "Is Amusha from the Buwa tribe?"
"Yes," Wen Zhuzhi replied with a smile. "Does Innkeeper Lu have a plan?"
Lu Jianwei shook her head. "Not yet. Regardless, we must first establish ourselves in Dada City."
Only by securing their footing could they find a way into the tribes. Resistance to outsiders simply meant the benefits offered weren’t enticing enough.
With the right incentives, everything could be negotiated.
The sun dipped westward, casting an orange glow over the bamboo houses, bathing them in a warm, golden hue.
The vast sky overlooked the small courtyard, while the undulating mountain ranges in the distance painted a stroke of ink across the horizon—verdant peaks like a masterpiece, the azure sky pristine.
Compared to the Central Plains, Dianzhou had a charm all its own.
"Young Master Wen, it’s been a long journey. You should rest early," Lu Jianwei said before turning to enter the main building.
BANG—
A violent crash suddenly erupted.
THUD—BOOM—CRASH—
The noise grew louder, accompanied by screams, curses, and wails, rapidly approaching the Eight Directions Inn.
Lu Jianwei’s ears twitched.
A fifth-rank martial artist, along with over a dozen fourth and fifth-rank fighters, was brawling, smashing shops along the street and injuring innocent bystanders.
Now, the chaos was about to reach the inn.
Without hesitation, she spent over two hundred thousand taels to purchase defensive and offensive tools from the system store, simultaneously upgrading to the seventh rank.
Now at the eighth rank, she no longer feared troublemakers.
But she couldn’t stay in the inn forever. The staff were still low-level, and these stilt houses had been painstakingly built—she couldn’t let them be destroyed so soon.
The moment the tools were bound to the inn, one of the brawlers was kicked flying, slamming straight into the courtyard wall. Blades, swords, and axes followed, hacking at the inn’s gate without regard for the damage they might cause.
In an instant, an overwhelming force surged from within the inn, like a giant hand parting the clouds to reveal the abyss beneath.
Everyone was flung out of the inn, crashing to the ground.
The inn remained unscathed, standing in stark contrast to the wreckage around it.
Lu Jianwei stood in the courtyard, hands clasped behind her back.
The staff rushed out, lining up to gawk at the groaning intruders outside.
They wore Dianzhou attire, shouting in incomprehensible local dialects. Once they scrambled to their feet, their hostile gazes locked onto the inn’s occupants.
I don't know how to translate that.
The leader, a man with a vicious scar running from his left eyebrow to his ear, snarled.
Lu Jianwei: ???
What in the world was that?
Liang Shangjun seized the chance to prove his worth, dutifully translating, "He’s asking, ‘Who did this?’"
"The aggressors are the ones complaining?" Lu Jianwei scoffed. "Tell them to get lost."
Liang Shangjun: "..."
He rattled off a response to the scarred man, his tone leisurely but firm.
Unexpectedly, the scarred man flew into a rage, shouting something else.
No one understood.
"He’s asking who we are, daring to provoke the ‘Sacred Medicine Hall,’" Liang Shangjun explained. "The Sacred Medicine Hall is the local power in Dada City. Anyone trading medicinal herbs here must pay them a fee."
Xue Guanhe frowned. "Why? Isn’t that just robbery?"
"Tell them to get lost," Lu Jianwei repeated.
She couldn’t fathom these people. Even after being overpowered, they still acted so arrogantly. Had being the local bullies for so long blinded them to reality?
Liang Shangjun relayed her message as diplomatically as possible.
But bullies didn’t back down easily.
After such a humiliating defeat, how could the Sacred Medicine Hall save face without retaliating?
Ashiqiu, a fifth-rank martial artist and elder of the Sacred Medicine Hall, had always been invincible in Dada City.
He’d encountered stronger fighters from the Central Plains before, but so what?
Dada City was their territory. The Sacred Medicine Hall had countless tricks up their sleeves, and those who resisted always learned their lesson the hard way.
He raised his broadsword and charged at the gate, signaling his men with a glance.
While his brute force drew attention, his subordinates stealthily opened small bamboo cages at their waists.
Tiny, bamboo-colored insects crawled out, blending into the dirt as they slithered toward the inn unnoticed.
"Jianwei," Xiao Ke warned in real time.
Lu Jianwei smirked. "Pathetic tricks."
She recognized these insects—common poison gu from the southwest. Their venom caused agonizing skin ulcers for half a month but wasn’t fatal.
With a flick of her tools, an invisible force annihilated the gu worms that had breached the wall, then hurled their corpses back at Ashiqiu’s feet.
Ashiqiu: "..."
They’d kicked an iron plate this time!
Gripping his blade, he barked another threat.
"He’s asking if we’re new here," Liang Shangjun translated. "He says newcomers must follow Dada City’s rules."
"Rules." Lu Jianwei chuckled. "Speaking of rules, I just remembered something. No wonder I felt like the inn was missing something."
Wen Zhuzhi caught on. "Amusha can speak the Central Plains tongue but not write it, so we never prepared the inn’s rules."
"No matter." Lu Jianwei turned to Yue Shu. "Find a wooden plaque and write the inn’s rules in both Central Plains and Dianzhou languages."
Finally, a task!
Yue Shu nodded eagerly. "On it!"
Ashiqiu, ignored once more, swung his blade furiously at the air and spat out another line.
Liang Shangjun’s face twisted.
"What did he say?" Lu Jianwei asked.
Liang Shangjun hesitated before answering, "He said… anyone from the Central Plains doing business in Dada City must pay the Sacred Medicine Hall five hundred taels upfront, or this inn won’t last. And also…"
"Also what?"
"If we don’t have the money, we can hand over two Central Plains women instead."
Silence fell.
Lu Jianwei suddenly laughed, the dying sunlight casting half her face in shadow. In the blink of an eye, pebbles shot through the air like meteors, striking the acupoints of every man outside the gate.
Ashiqiu: ???
What just happened? Why couldn’t he move?
"Such impressive hidden weapon skills!" A'Nai marveled.
Martial artists were naturally vigilant and resilient—hitting their pressure points was no easy feat, especially for high-level fighters.
Lu Jianwei was an Eighth-Level Martial King. In theory, defeating them should have been effortless for her, yet she had clearly not used any internal energy.
What she relied on was an exceptionally refined skill in hidden weapons!
The people from the Sacred Medicine Hall didn’t even have time to react.
Lu Jianwei ordered, "Tie them all up and throw them into the stables."
It had always been her habit to take advantage of others—no one could ever squeeze a single coin out of her.
Expecting her to pay any transaction fee? Not a chance.
The staff bound over a dozen people with ropes and, under the stunned and admiring gazes of the surrounding residents, tossed them into the stables.
"Boss, should we feed them Xiao Ke?" Xue Guanhe asked.
"No need," Lu Jianwei replied. "Since they enjoy poisoning and cursing others, let them experience it for themselves."
Earlier, when she had exterminated the venomous insects, she had deliberately spared one.
"Tiao, let this bug sting each of them," she said, handing over the insect wrapped in a handkerchief.
Tiao took it, examining it curiously for a moment before pinching it and approaching the Sacred Medicine Hall members.
One of them wore an anxious expression, his eyes brimming with innocence, speaking words no one could understand.
Liang Shangjun relayed to Lu Jianwei, "Boss, he claims he’s not with the Sacred Medicine Hall—he says he’s being hunted by them."
Lu Jianwei responded, "Earlier, he used a merchant’s stall to shield himself from the Sacred Medicine Hall. Ask him if he’s willing to compensate for the damages. If he agrees, let him go."
She had no issue with self-preservation, but those who escaped danger had to make amends to the victims.
Anyone who violated that principle could forget about mercy.
