◎Taking Action, Making Money, Following One’s Heart◎
The man was clearly pragmatic and offered compensation without hesitation.
After leaving the stables, he approached Lu Jianwei and bowed in the customary manner of Dianzhou, speaking a single sentence.
Liang Shangjun provided an immediate translation.
"Amulang thanks you all for your rescue."
Lu Jianwei: "This wasn’t a rescue. We simply wanted to prevent you from damaging the inn while fighting with the Sacred Medicine Hall. Once you’ve compensated, you may leave."
"I don’t have that much money on me," Amulang flashed a bright grin. "Once I return to my tribe and retrieve the funds, I’ll come back."
Xue Guanhe interjected, "What if you run off and never return? We wouldn’t be able to track you down."
"Here’s my pledge." Amulang removed the wolf tooth hanging from his neck. "Every warrior of the Buwa Tribe hunts a beast alone when they come of age. This is my trophy—I’ve worn it ever since and would never discard it lightly."
Liang Shangjun nodded. "Innkeeper, the Buwa Tribe does indeed have this tradition. Moreover, his surname is ‘Amu,’ so he might be from the same village as that Amusha."
"Amusha?" Amulang caught the name, his face lighting up. "So you’re the honored guests Amusha spoke of! He mentioned buying land to build a house in preparation for your arrival—it must be you!"
Since they were acquainted, things became much simpler.
Lu Jianwei asked, "Why was the Sacred Medicine Hall chasing you?"
"Ah!" A look of regret crossed Amulang’s dark face. "It’s my fault. The Sacred Medicine Hall isn’t to be trifled with, and you’re all outsiders. They might… Why don’t you come with me to the village? That way, the Sacred Medicine Hall won’t dare to harass you."
Yue Shu frowned. "If the Sacred Medicine Hall is so fearsome, why did you provoke them?"
"I just couldn’t stand their arrogance! They extort money left and right—mostly from Central Plains folk, but it still harms our people. That transaction fee shouldn’t even exist." Amulang clenched his fists in indignation. "With them around, business in Dada City has suffered."
"No one stops them?"
"Who would? The Sacred Medicine Hall’s leader is a sixth-rank martial artist—one of the strongest in Dada City."
A'Nai raised an eyebrow. "You’re already fifth-rank. Doesn’t your tribe have any sixth-rank warriors?"
"Even if we did, it wouldn’t matter. The Hall Leader has backing from the Gu God Sect. Who would dare challenge him?" Amulang scoffed. "The most I can do is give Ashiqiu a hard time."
As long as things didn’t escalate, minor skirmishes among subordinates were beneath the notice of those in power.
The Sacred Medicine Hall’s leader wouldn’t bother personally dealing with small fry like Amulang.
But now, things were different.
Over a dozen Sacred Medicine Hall members had been tied up in the inn’s stables, humiliating the Hall and turning them into a laughingstock across Dada City. The Hall Leader would never let this slide.
If the Hall Leader intervened personally, the situation would turn dire.
Lu Jianwei wasn’t particularly interested in the Hall Leader, but the mention of the "Gu God Sect" piqued her curiosity.
"I’ve heard the Gu God Sect is the largest religious faction in the southwest, with countless followers. Many tribes revere the Gu God as their supreme deity, referring to the sect simply as ‘the Divine Sect.’"
Amulang beamed with pride. "Exactly! The Gu God protects our people. The sect’s leader is the divine emissary—the only one who can communicate with the Gu God. Our tribes have enjoyed peace and prosperity all these years thanks to the Gu God’s blessings."
"If the Gu God protects the people, why does the Divine Sect’s emissary allow the Sacred Medicine Hall to exploit and harm them? Why fear those who are unworthy? Shouldn’t the Gu God punish them?" Lu Jianwei cut straight to the heart of the matter.
"The Gu God is far too busy to concern Himself with such trivial matters!" Amulang had his own logic. "Even your Central Plains emperor wouldn’t personally oversee affairs in a single village, would he?"
Though Dianzhou had been part of the Qi Dynasty for decades, Amulang still referred to them as "your Central Plains," revealing his lack of identification with the dynasty.
Lu Jianwei nodded. "Fair point."
"Please, come with me to the village. The Sacred Medicine Hall wouldn’t dare barge in there." Amulang urged earnestly.
Lu Jianwei smiled. "How can a business fear its customers?"
"What do you mean?"
Liang Shangjun translated for him in the Buwa tongue: "Go back on your own. Don’t worry—we’re here to do business, not to seek refuge."
"But—"
Before Amulang could protest, the haunting melody of a flute drifted into the courtyard.
The bamboo flute’s notes were usually soothing—clear, melodious, and elegant. But now, the tune grew increasingly shrill and frenzied, grating on the nerves without pause.
Accompanying the music was the sinister rustling of countless insects and snakes slithering closer.
A man stood atop a tall tree, clad in colorful robes, the flute pressed to his lips as he summoned a tide of creeping creatures with closed eyes.
A sixth-rank martial artist—early-stage cultivation.
Insects and snakes swarmed from all directions, surrounding the inn in an impenetrable ring, their hisses filling the air.
This man had come prepared for war, not negotiation.
Lu Jianwei saw an opportunity she couldn’t pass up.
"Everyone, don’t waste such excellent training partners."
Yan Feicang, unable to hold back any longer, unsheathed his blade. A gust of sword wind kicked up dust, instantly decimating dozens of snakes.
Not to be outdone, Xue Guanhe, Yue Shu, and A'Tiao joined the fray.
Between flashing blades and billowing medicinal powder, the onslaught of creatures faltered momentarily under the ferocity of the inn’s staff.
Wen Zhuzhi spoke calmly. "A'Nai, fetch a chair for Innkeeper Lu."
"Right away!" A'Nai darted inside and swiftly returned with a wicker chair. "Innkeeper, standing is tiring. Why not sit and enjoy the show?"
"Thank you."
Lu Jianwei swept her skirts aside and sat with effortless grace.
The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues like a lavish silk tapestry unfurled across the heavens.
Bathed in the twilight glow, the inn’s courtyard took on an air of mystique.
The man in the tree let out a soft sound of surprise, opening his eyes to gaze at the two figures lounging leisurely below.
His vibrant robes fluttered in the breeze, a striking contrast against the verdant foliage behind him.
Amulang finally snapped out of his daze. "That’s Vice Hall Leader Ashicai!"
A sixth-rank expert, second only to the Hall Leader, and a clansman of Ashiqiu—more precisely, Ashiqiu’s uncle.
Ashicai narrowed his eyes, the leaves beneath his feet trembling from the force of his unleashed energy.
Raising the flute once more, he blew a piercing, ear-splitting note.
The creatures outside the walls went berserk, scaling the courtyard en masse, their venomous fangs aimed straight at Lu Jianwei and Wen Zhuzhi.
Even with Yan Feicang and the others fighting fiercely, they couldn’t eliminate the horde fast enough.
Dozens of slender vipers flicked their forked tongues, venom dripping from their fangs as they lunged at the pair.
Amulang grabbed a firewood axe, ready to charge—when an overwhelming surge of energy erupted behind him.
Like a tidal wave crashing upon the shore, like sunlight piercing the clouds—in the blink of an eye, every last insect and snake disintegrated into dust.
Not just killed.
Utterly obliterated.
He whirled around in shock.
A single bamboo leaf shot through the air like a meteor, carrying the unstoppable force of a thunderbolt straight toward Ashicai.
Against the might of an eighth-rank Martial King, a sixth-rank warrior stood no chance.
The delicate leaf sliced through the sturdy flute as if it were paper. The instrument shattered before Ashicai’s eyes, its broken pieces slipping from his grasp and clattering to the ground below.
The sound mirrored the state of his heart.
This overwhelming aura of pressure was something he had only ever felt from the leader of the Gu God Sect.
Who was she? She looked no older than her twenties—how could she possess such profound inner strength?
An eighth-level Martial King at such a young age—was it even possible?
With the flute's control gone, the insects and snakes outside the courtyard lost their direction. Relying on their keen animal instincts, they swiftly fled the premises.
The dense swarm of creatures retreated like a receding tide. Ashicai also felt the urge to retreat, but the oppressive force emanating from the eighth-level Martial King in the courtyard left him frozen in place.
Suppressing his frustration, he spoke in a low voice, "I am the deputy hall master of the Sacred Medicine Hall. What is your purpose in detaining our people?"
Lu Jianwei raised an eyebrow—his Central Plains dialect was quite fluent. Good, that saved her the trouble of translation.
"Are you blind to the devastation your Sacred Medicine Hall has wrought upon the shops along the street?"
Ashicai: "What do you mean?"
"The Sacred Medicine Hall acts with reckless arrogance, nearly destroying my humble inn, yet you offer no apology. Instead, you attempt to harm others with poison and gu. Is it unreasonable for me to mete out a little punishment?"
Ashicai: "..."
Under the pressure of her eighth-level aura, could he really say it was unreasonable?
"What do you want?"
Lu Jianwei smiled gently, her tone disarmingly mild. "They demanded five hundred taels from me as a 'transaction fee.' I won’t be as unreasonable—I’ll sell them by weight. One hundred taels per pound. Additionally, your Sacred Medicine Hall must compensate for all the damage done to the shops along the street."
Ashicai: "..."
One hundred taels per pound? That would amount to nearly twenty thousand taels for a single person! Was this daylight robbery?
"Unlike you, I’m not robbing anyone. I’m simply demanding fair compensation," Lu Jianwei said, her smile unwavering. "Of course, you’re free to choose not to pay for their release."
Ashicai had no retort.
No matter which option he chose, the Sacred Medicine Hall’s reputation would be left in tatters.
Knowing he was outmatched, he could only agree for now and plan further once he returned to the hall.
"This matter is of great importance. I must report it to the hall master first."
Lu Jianwei: "You have one day. The Sacred Medicine Hall has been profiting in Dada City for years—surely you can scrape together such a paltry sum?"
Gritting his teeth, Ashicai turned and vanished into the woods.
"You—just who are you people?" Amulang stared at Lu Jianwei, his eyes wide with shock and suspicion.
Though he couldn’t sense her cultivation level, he wasn’t blind.
When he, Ashiqiu, and the others had been knocked down earlier, he hadn’t thought much of it—after all, they’d been caught off guard.
But the arrival of Deputy Hall Master Ashicai shattered his understanding.
These people were strong.
Ashicai was one of Dada City’s top experts, his flute-controlled insect swarms a nightmarish sight that could overwhelm any opponent through sheer numbers.
Yet before Lu Jianwei, such a terrifying skill was as harmless as a child waving a stick.
Annihilated in the blink of an eye.
Did Amusha know his guests were this formidable?
What could such powerful outsiders want in Yunnan?
Amulang’s mind spiraled into conspiracy. Emotionally, he wanted to believe they meant no harm, but reason forced him to remain wary of strangers.
Liang Shangjun reassured him in the Bawa tribe’s dialect: "Our innkeeper merely wishes to run an inn and gather some medicinal herbs. There’s no ulterior motive—you needn’t worry."
Amulang could only say, "You are Amusha’s guests. I trust you. I have matters at home—I’ll take my leave."
He took a few steps, then paused and turned back.
"Oh, and... be careful of the hall master. His cultivation might not surpass yours, but he possesses deadly gu insects. They’re impossible to guard against."
Liang Shangjun relayed the warning to Lu Jianwei.
She nodded. "Thank you for the warning."
Amulang left, his mind heavy. Passing the courtyard gate, his gaze flicked toward the stables.
A dozen men were crammed inside. Earlier, Ashicai’s arrival had interrupted A'Tiao’s "poisonous gu stings" plan, but with his retreat, she resumed her work—pressing gu insects to each captive.
Agonized screams rose and fell.
"Too noisy."
"I’ll use a muting poison."
The conversation inside the inn drifted on the wind. Amulang didn’t understand the words, but the abrupt silence from the stables sent a chill down his spine.
Terrifying outsiders.
Their first day in Dada City had been... eventful.
Lu Jianwei returned to her room, lighting a lamp to study gu techniques.
Meanwhile, Ashicai arrived at the Sacred Medicine Hall, requesting an audience outside the main hall.
A guard said, "The hall master captured a few Central Plains folk today. He’s in high spirits—don’t disturb him unless it’s urgent."
"Inform him that powerful Central Plains warriors have appeared in the north of the city. They’ve taken over a dozen of our men captive. I was no match for them."
"Central Plains warriors?" A hoarse voice pierced through the hall doors. "I just caught a few foolish Central Plains idiots today—dull as dirt. Are you saying these ones are actually strong?"
Ashicai’s heart skipped. "Hall Master, your gu arts are peerless. How could Central Plains worms compare? But these ones... they’re strange. And..."
"Spit it out."
"At the very least, they’re seventh-level Martial Kings. Possibly eighth."
Silence. Then: "You’re certain?"
"I wouldn’t dare lie."
The doors creaked open. A tall, gaunt figure emerged barefoot, his skin unnaturally pale, lips crimson as blood.
He wore an indigo robe, a woven vine orb dangling from his hand, adorned with colorful cords.
Ashicai averted his eyes.
Inside that orb was the hall master’s prized gu—a king among killers, adept at clouding minds and slaughtering without a trace.
The hall master lifted his face to the night sky and sighed.
"The spring moon alone is full of tender love, / Shedding its light upon the parting one." [1]
"Shicai, I don’t enjoy harming others."
Ashicai: "It’s those Central Plains people who went too far. The hall master had no choice."
"Heh." The hall master tapped the orb gently. "I’ve always admired the Central Plains. Their poets write of such beautiful moons."
Ashicai listened in silence.
"But my Little You tells me Central Plains blood is sweet and fragrant. If what you say is true, she might feast well tonight."
Remembering Lu Jianwei’s unfathomable strength, Ashicai ventured, "Hall Master, the Central Plains have a saying: Know yourself and your enemy, and you’ll never lose. Those people today were unnervingly confident. Shouldn’t we investigate first?"
"Wise words," the hall master mused, closing his eyes. "Central Plains folk are cunning. I wouldn’t want to frighten my Little You. You said they’ve taken our men hostage. What are their terms?"
Ashicai relayed Lu Jianwei’s demands verbatim.
"A hundred taels per pound? Amusing." The hall master’s lips curled. "Worthless trash. Why waste silver?"
Ashicai gathered his courage. "But..."
"But your nephew is among them, isn’t he?"
"...This subordinate begs forgiveness."
The hall master turned, his wide sleeves brushing the floor like rippling waves.
He seized Ashicai’s chin with slender, pale fingers, studying him.
"You’re my deputy. I’ll grant you this favor. If even you call them formidable, they must differ from the usual fools. Let’s keep them around for entertainment."
Ashicai kowtowed in gratitude.
---
[1] A line from the poem "Spring River Flower Moon Night" (Chun Jiang Hua Yue Ye) by Tang Dynasty poet Zhang Ruoxu
"How many pounds they weigh, that's how many lashes they'll receive—and you'll administer them yourself."
"As you command."
The next day, Ashicai arrived at the Eight Directions Inn with a hefty sum of gold.
The inn's staff were no strangers to such scenes—Ashicai was neither the first nor would he be the last.
Ashiqiu and his group of fifteen men averaged one hundred fifty pounds each. At a rate of one hundred taels per pound, the total came to 225,000 taels.
"Xiao Ke, these men were subdued by both me and the props. Let's split the reward fifty-fifty."
"..."
"At first, the props did most of the work, but in the end, it was my hidden weapons that secured them. Don’t try to cheat me out of my share."
Xiao Ke sighed. "You're already so wealthy. Must you be this meticulous?"
Lu Jianwei smirked. "No one takes advantage of me. It's settled—half and half."
Unable to argue, Xiao Ke reluctantly agreed.
The payment was settled, but the men remained in the stables.
Lu Jianwei signaled the staff to drag them out. After just one night, the fifteen men had been reduced to unrecognizable wrecks, shocking Ashicai.
His brows furrowed in displeasure.
"Apologies," Xue Guanhe said with wide, earnest eyes. "We don’t know what happened to them. Last night, we heard their screams and found them like this. Their wailing was unbearable, so we gave them a potion to silence them."
Ashiqiu and his men were covered in festering wounds, their skin not a single patch unbroken, their bodies drenched in blood—a horrifying sight.
Ashicai recognized the effects of a venomous gu, one commonly used by their sect. Yet gu worms never attacked their masters willingly. To claim the inn had nothing to do with this—who would believe it?
He didn’t press the matter, simply ordering his men to carry the prisoners away.
Back at the sect, a lashing awaited them.
Once they were gone, Lu Jianwei instructed the staff to clean the stables.
For the Sacred Medicine Hall to so easily redeem these men—it wasn’t like them.
"Manager Lu, care to join me for tea?" Wen Zhuzhi asked.
Lu Jianwei turned. "I wouldn’t dream of refusing."
A'Nai set up a full tea set in the courtyard. The pale celadon porcelain complemented the bamboo inn perfectly. A pinch of White Silk Fragrance tea was brewed with mountain spring water over a stove, its aroma intoxicating.
Under the blue sky and white clouds, surrounded by lush bamboo, sipping tea in this secluded courtyard was pure bliss.
The wilderness of Fengzhou was desolate, the markets of Jiangzhou boisterous, but Dianzhou struck just the right balance—neither too quiet nor too loud.
Or perhaps that was just Lu Jianwei’s imagination.
Wen Zhuzhi poured her a cup and handed it over gently.
"Aleshu, leader of the Sacred Medicine Hall, is unpredictable and unrestrained. For him to agree to the ransom so easily—there must be more to come."
"Excellent tea," Lu Jianwei remarked after a sip, smiling. "We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it."
She wasn’t afraid of schemes—she feared the absence of them.
To outsiders, the southwest was a labyrinth of complexity, its gu worms impossible to guard against. Even with her eighth-level cultivation, she dared not be careless.
The gu worms were enigmatic, and the Gu God Sect’s dominance over the region was absolute, extending even to Soulbreak Ridge. Countless Central Plains explorers had vanished there without a trace.
Even if one found rare herbs, bringing them back was another matter.
Knowing nothing of the Gu God Sect, she wouldn’t recklessly charge into their territory.
But Aleshu had ties to them—perhaps he could be the thread to unravel their secrets.
She could afford to wait.
Wen Zhuzhi smiled. "Manager Lu seems confident. I’ve spoken out of turn."
"Not at all. In fact, I’d prefer if you spoke more." She set down her cup, eyes gleaming. "For instance—why have you come to the southwest?"
Wen Zhuzhi paused, silent for a long moment.
"If you’d rather not say, that’s fine. I never force answers," Lu Jianwei said, refilling her cup without ceremony.
Wen Zhuzhi chuckled. "It’s not that I don’t want to. I just don’t know how to explain."
"Then explain however you like."
"What if I told you I came here without a purpose? Would you believe me?"
"Business trips have purposes. Personal matters have purposes. Even sightseeing has a purpose. Which is yours?"
"I..." He lowered his gaze, the clear tea reflecting the sky. "I didn’t want to live with regrets."
"What regrets?"
He lifted his lashes, amber eyes deep and unwavering as they met hers.
"To follow my heart. To live for myself, just once."
Lu Jianwei held his gaze, her relaxed demeanor fading.
The kettle hissed on the stove, but the tea in their cups grew cold.
"Wen Zhuzhi, don’t gamble with your life."
"This isn’t a gamble," he said, pouring out the chilled tea and refilling her cup. "If you dislike it, discard it—just like this tea."
"I never realized you had such a reckless side," she said, then paused.
No—back in Fengzhou, when the Hei brothers attacked the inn, the wealthy Wen had risked his life to test her limits. That had been reckless too.
Calmly, she asked, "Is it because you know your time is short that you’ve stopped holding back?"
"Manager Lu," he countered, "what do you mean by 'holding back'?"
She had no answer.
Some things went unsaid, yet neither his words nor actions could be called unrestrained.
She’d spoken harshly only because she didn’t want to bear the weight of responsibility.
"With your health, you could’ve rested in Nanzhou, prolonged your life. Yet you chose this arduous journey. Isn’t that recklessness?"
"My apologies. I failed to heed the physician’s advice."
Lu Jianwei: "..."
She’d assumed, like before, that he’d come southwest on business. That was why she hadn’t stopped him.
"What fragrant tea!" A delighted voice sounded from the courtyard gate. "I never thought I’d encounter White Silk Fragrance in Dianzhou."
A man strolled in, fan in hand, his gaze first landing on the tea set before shifting to Lu Jianwei and Wen Zhuzhi.
"Old friends! Our meeting at the Joyful Pavilion was fate, and now tea brings us together again. Bian must befriend you without delay."
"Using tea to swindle friendships—have you no shame?" Zhao Rui strode in, sneering. "Xue'er, pay no mind to such a man."
The courtyard fell silent.
Xue Guanhe stepped forward brightly. "Honored guests, will you be dining or staying?"
Zhao Rui backed up, eyeing the inn’s sign in disbelief.
"You’re running an inn here?"
"Indeed. With more Central Plains travelers coming southwest, our master decided to open an inn in Dada City for merchants to rest," Xue Guanhe lied smoothly.
Zhao Rui bought it, glancing at Yan Feicang by the stables.
"Even the Shockwave Blade is here. Xue'er, you’ve chosen well."
They’d searched all of Dada City without finding suitable lodgings. Buying a house was an option, but Xue'er had refused.
This inn, run by Central Plains folk, was perfect.
Though there’d been tensions at the Joyful Pavilion, for Xue'er’s sake, he’d let it slide.
He Lianxue bowed slightly, her veil turning toward Lvluo.
Lvluo stepped forward. "We’d like to stay. May we ask who the manager is?"
Lu Jianwei smiled amiably and said, "My surname is Lu, and I'm the proprietor here. The best rooms are five taels, the standard ones one tael. How many would you like?"
"..."
Had they stumbled into a shady inn?
