No Fighting Allowed in the Inn-Chapter 68

"Making Money, Alliance Murders"

"He cursed the young master—I can't take it!"

Xue Guanhe hurriedly stopped him, whispering, "There will be plenty of chances. Don’t act on impulse. Aren’t you good at cursing people? Just curse him so badly his own parents wouldn’t recognize him. That’d be more satisfying than beating him up."

"I’m too angry to think straight right now. Can’t come up with anything."

"That’s why you need to calm down. Calm, calm, and calm again."

A'Nai closed his eyes, took a deep breath, set down the water bucket, and glared fiercely at Young Master Chen.

"The young master will surely live a hundred years, unlike you—you look completely drained by wine and women, so weak you shouldn’t even be wandering outside. Aren’t you afraid dogs would chase you and you wouldn’t even be able to run? No, wait, even dogs wouldn’t bother with you. You’re worse than a stinking rock in a latrine."

"You—" Chen Hui sputtered, "You’re talking nonsense! When have I ever indulged in wine and women? I’m perfectly strong! Wen Nai, you’d better watch your mouth for your master’s sake. Stop offending people everywhere and making him clean up your mess!"

"You deserve to be cursed! I’m only saying this because of the disgusting things you’ve done!"

"Me? Disgusting things? It’s that Wen guy who schemed to steal my family’s business!"

"Scheming?" A'Nai rolled his eyes dramatically. "As if my young master would need to scheme against someone like you. You’re giving yourself too much credit."

"If it weren’t for that Wen guy, my Chen family would’ve become imperial merchants by now! Do you really think I don’t know what you’ve done?"

Yue Shu peeked out from behind the doorframe, watching for a moment before ducking back and whispering, "Uncle Zhang, Young Master Wen definitely isn’t that kind of person."

"Right, definitely not," Uncle Zhang agreed with a nod.

"How can he just slander someone like that?" Yue Shu frowned in displeasure.

Lan Ling approached, amused. "And how can you just assume it’s slander?"

"But... Young Master Wen isn’t that kind of person."

"You say he isn’t, so he isn’t?" Lan Ling toyed with the delicate bell on her wrist. "Do you know everything he’s done?"

Yue Shu blinked his large eyes earnestly. "With his intelligence, he wouldn’t need to resort to underhanded tactics."

"Aside from being skilled in esoteric arts, what other intelligence does he have?"

Yue Shu faltered.

"So, you don’t really know him at all." Lan Ling glanced down at him, the corners of her eyes carrying a cool amusement. "When you don’t truly understand someone, your judgment of them is anything but objective."

"I..."

"Miss Lan, do you claim to know Young Master Wen well?" Uncle Zhang interjected. "If not, why are you so quick to believe others’ accusations?"

"I..."

"A'Nai."

A clear voice cut her off, effectively silencing the argument.

Wen Zhuzhi wheeled himself into the courtyard from behind the main building of the inn. Dressed in plain white robes, a half-undone hair ribbon draped over his chest, he held a book in his hand.

He looked less like a merchant and more like an elegant scholar.

Chen Hui rolled his eyes.

"Wen the Cripple, so you really are here. Heard you’ve been searching for some life-saving medicine. Found it yet? If not, I can ask my family’s trade team to keep an ear out for you."

Wen Zhuzhi replied indifferently, "Appreciate the thought."

"Hey, if you kick the bucket, who’s gonna inherit that massive fortune of yours? Maybe you should find a few women while you’re still alive—though I wonder if your body can even handle..."

"Chen Hui! Shut your mouth!" A'Nai exploded with rage, shaking off Xue Guanhe and lunging forward. With one kick, he sent Chen Hui and his servant flying several feet away.

The two wailed and cursed from the ground.

"Murder! Murder! Someone help!"

Xue Guanhe quickly grabbed some rags, trying to stuff them into their mouths before their screeching disturbed the innkeeper.

Of course, the commotion had already reached the upstairs.

Chen Hui’s eyes widened in horror.

A den of thieves! This was a den of thieves!

What kind of inn had staff who didn’t mediate fights but instead helped the Wen family bully guests?

They must be in cahoots!

Maybe this inn was secretly owned by Wen the Cripple.

He’d walked right into a wolf’s den.

Father! Mother! Come save me!

"My, my, this is hardly how an inn should treat its guests." Lan Ling swayed gracefully out the back door, her beautiful eyes like hooks. "Poor Young Master Chen."

Xue Guanhe paused.

Chen Hui gaped at her, momentarily forgetting his pain.

How could there be such a stunning woman in the world?

His dumbstruck expression amused Lan Ling, who let out a soft laugh before stepping closer, her voice dripping with sweetness.

"Can you stand?"

Yes! Of course!

Chen Hui scrambled to his feet, ignoring the dirt on his clothes, his gaze fixed on her.

"Miss, are you also staying here?"

"I am. Does Young Master Chen have any advice for me?"

"None at all! Thank you for stepping in on my behalf." Chen Hui fidgeted, unsure what to do with his hands. "I’m Chen Hui from Jiangzhou. May I have the honor of knowing your name?"

Lan Ling’s eyes sparkled as she half-covered her face with a handkerchief, feigning shyness, her voice honeyed.

"My surname is Lan, and my given name is Ling." She flicked the golden bell on her wrist. "This very 'Ling.'"

Chen Hui was utterly enchanted.

"Miss Lan, where is your family from? Who else is in your household?"

"My home is in Jingzhou." She gave him a playful glare. "Young Master Chen, why ask so many details?"

"My apologies, I was too forward." Chen Hui, clearly experienced in such matters, quickly recovered. "I’ll find the best restaurant in town—would Miss Lan grace me with your company?"

Lan Ling shook her head. "The best restaurants here are nothing special. The inn’s cook makes far better dishes."

"Then we’ll dine here! I’ll have the chef prepare all your favorites, as much as you want."

"Wonderful." Lan Ling pointed. "He’s the cook. Tell him what you’d like."

Chen Hui followed her slender finger—only to see the coarse-clad servant holding two rags, the same rags that had nearly been shoved into his mouth moments ago.

"..."

"Does Young Master Chen not wish to?" Lan Ling pouted.

Chen Hui snapped out of it. "Of course I do! Absolutely!"

For beauty’s sake, he’d endure anything!

Setting aside his "grudge" and ignoring A'Nai’s scoff, he barked at Xue Guanhe, "What are you waiting for? Prepare a fine feast! I’ll be sharing wine and laughter with Miss Lan."

Xue Guanhe: "...It’s not time yet."

"Just do it! No backtalk!" Chen Hui shot him a glare before pulling a money pouch from his waist, weighing it in his palm. "Make Miss Lan happy, and all this is yours."

Xue Guanhe sighed inwardly. He didn’t need the money.

But business was business. If a guest made a request, he couldn’t refuse. So he nodded and headed to the kitchen.

Chen Hui, now wholly captivated by Lan Ling, spared no more thought for the Wen family. He shot them a cold glare before turning back to Lan Ling with an eager smile.

"Miss Lan, let’s not stand outside. Shall we?"

Lan Ling lowered her head with a soft laugh and followed him into the hall, seating herself by the window.

"Waiter! Bring the finest tea!" Chen Hui called out. "The absolute best!"

Yue Shu hurried over, asking seriously, "We have Taqingtai, Baichou Xiangping, or Xi’emei. Which would you like?"

"..."

Chen Hui’s servant sneered. "You’re not trying to pass off cheap tea as the good stuff, are you?"

"Since Young Master Chen is so well-traveled and knowledgeable, surely just taking a look would tell you?" Yue Shu said.

Chen Hui responded with surprise, "You actually have some? Then hurry and bring it out for this young master to inspect. A peerless beauty like Miss Lan deserves only the finest tea."

"...Of course." Yue Shu quickly turned away to avoid losing his composure in front of others.

If Chen Hui knew just how old Senior Lan really was, who knew how he’d react.

The tea usually served at the inn was rather ordinary—only on special occasions was the premium variety brought out.

Special occasions included, but were not limited to, selling to gullible spenders.

Chen Hui was the perfect mark—no loss in selling to him.

A short while later, Yue Shu returned from the storeroom with three small tea packets, each about the size of a pastry, each stamped with its respective label.

He carefully scooped out a small portion onto a shallow dish.

"Take a look, Young Master Chen. Authentic, isn’t it?"

As a wealthy merchant family from the south, the Chens could certainly afford the finest teas and had the connections to procure them—but only in very limited quantities.

Even Chen Hui’s own father rarely let him drink such tea, grumbling that he’d waste it like a cow chewing on peonies.

Chen Hui sniffed carefully and was stunned to find that these leaves were not only genuine but of even higher quality than his family’s prized collection.

—The very best of the rarest teas were, of course, reserved for the nobility.

His heart skipped a beat as he finally grasped just how extraordinary this inn was.

The staff didn’t act like staff, the cook didn’t seem like a mere cook, and the proprietor was nowhere to be seen.

"Truly exceptional tea," Chen Hui said stiffly. "Then, a pot of Taqing Terrace, please."

"Certainly! One pot—one hundred taels of silver." Yue Shu stated this as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"You’re robbing us!" his servant snapped, glaring.

Chen Hui shot him a sharp look. "Go on, pay the hundred taels."

Many would throw piles of silver at the chance to buy such tea, only to be turned away.

The servant didn’t dare disobey and handed over the payment.

Soon after, Yue Shu returned with a steaming pot. The aroma of Taqing Terrace was crisp and refreshing, the rising steam carrying an almost majestic air, uplifting the spirit.

"Tell me, lad—what’s your proprietor’s surname?"

Before Yue Shu could answer, Lan Ling laughed lightly.

"Young Master Chen, why do you ask about Manager Lu?"

"Lu?" Chen Hui combed through his mental list of distinguished figures but found no match.

Lan Ling’s red lips curved. "Indeed. Manager Lu is quite remarkable—you’ll understand once you meet her."

Chen Hui thought to himself: Anyone who could serve such rare tea to guests must indeed be extraordinary. He was genuinely curious now.

"Miss Lan, let’s not speak of others," he said, pouring tea for her himself. "Please, enjoy."

"Gladly." Lan Ling took a delicate sip. "Truly exquisite. If not for Young Master Chen, I’d never have had the chance to taste such fine tea."

"Drink as much as you like." Once again lost in her smile, Chen Hui kept refilling her cup, barely drinking any himself.

With a soft, demure tone, Lan Ling asked, "Earlier, I heard you mention your family is from the south. What brings you to Jiangzhou?"

"My father sent me." A hint of pride surfaced in Chen Hui’s expression. "The merchant alliances of the southern and Jiangzhou regions are electing a new leader. He wanted me to observe and gain experience."

"When is it? And where?"

"Tomorrow, at the start of the si hour, at the residence of the outgoing alliance leader."

Lan Ling smiled. "Are there any candidates?"

"Of course—all renowned figures in their own right."

"Who are they? Is your father among them?"

Chen Hui shook his head. "My father isn’t running."

"Why not?" Lan Ling feigned surprise and disappointment. "A man capable of raising someone as outstanding as you would surely make an excellent alliance leader."

Flattered by the beauty’s praise, Chen Hui puffed up. "My father has no interest in leading just two regions—if he’s going to lead, it’ll be the national merchant alliance."

"Such lofty ambition! Truly, he is no ordinary man."

"You flatter him too much, Miss Lan."

The two chatted amiably, though in terms of status, age, and even appearance, they made an odd pair.

Chen Hui was of average looks but carried himself with an air of "I’m the handsomest," his fawning gaze clinging to Lan Ling in a way that was almost nauseating.

Yue Shu and the others stifled laughter in the kitchen—not at anything in particular, just the sheer absurdity of the scene.

"Don’t you think this is strange?" A'Nai asked, fanning the stove.

"Strange? Of course." Xue Guanhe nodded. "That’s why it’s funny."

"I mean, Lan Ling suddenly taking an interest in—"

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"A'Nai," Yue Shu cut in with a smile, "we don’t meddle in guests’ affairs unless they ask for help."

Xue Guanhe agreed. "Right. Just enjoy the show."

They were merely inn staff—what guests did was none of their concern. That was a lesson they’d learned from Manager Lu.

Making money came first.

A'Nai: "..."

While cooking, Xue Guanhe also prepared the inn’s lunch. By the time Chen Hui’s ordered dishes were served, it was time for the staff meal.

Even Chen Hui, who had sampled delicacies from across the land, was impressed by Xue Guanhe’s skill.

Who’d have thought this seemingly ordinary kitchen hand could cook so well?

"Miss Lan, does it suit your taste?" he asked eagerly, serving her more food.

Lan Ling pouted delicately. "I have a small appetite. Any more and I’ll grow plump—then I’ll be ugly."

"Nonsense! You could never be ugly." Chen Hui lavished praise. "You’re the most—"

His voice cut off abruptly as his gaze flicked toward the stairs.

Lan Ling tilted her head, amused. "The most what?"

"The most..." Chen Hui stared dumbly ahead, murmuring, "The most beautiful."

She ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​‌‌​​​​‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​‌​‌​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌​​‌​​​​‌‌​​‌​‍was the most beautiful, he thought.

Lan Ling’s smile deepened, her voice honeyed.

"Young Master Chen, between her and me—who is more beautiful?"

"...Both are lovely, each in their own way." Chen Hui suddenly stood. "Is this young lady also a guest at the inn?"

Lu Jianwei had just descended the stairs when she noticed someone staring.

Studying the "Spring and Autumn Medicinal Canon" required intense focus, so she rarely "eavesdropped" on the staff and guests anymore, having Xiao Ke filter out most chatter. Unless something urgent arose, Xiao Ke wouldn’t disturb her.

She knew nothing of the morning’s events at the inn.

This stranger who’d suddenly appeared must be a new guest.

His fine clothes and smooth skin marked him as wealthy, and the crisp, refreshing scent of Taqing Terrace wafting from his table confirmed it.

"Can I help you?" she asked politely.

Chen Hui perked up. "I am Chen Hui of the southern Chen family. May I ask the young lady’s name?"

Lu Jianwei: "???"

Everyone else subtly pricked up their ears, even Lan Ling watching with playful amusement.

"I’m Lu, the proprietor of this inn." Lu Jianwei arched a brow. "Young Master Chen, are you satisfied with the food?"

"Proprietor?" Chen Hui gaped. "You’re the proprietor?"

"Is that a problem?"

"N-no, not at all."

Chen Hui privately acknowledged that his family’s wealth likely paled next to the inn’s, leaving him somewhat deflated—but his pursuit of beauty was unstoppable.

An idea struck him. "Manager Lu, with such an impressive establishment, your elders must be involved in the merchant alliance election tomorrow, yes? Why not join me?"

Lu Jianwei: "An election? I haven’t heard of it."

"How could that be?" Chen Hui frowned. "With the Lu family’s standing, you must have received an invitation."

"I'm not from Jiangzhou." Lu Jianwei replied amiably, considering his patronage of the tea. "Young Master Chen, Lan Ling is still waiting for you."

Chen Hui stiffened, turning to glance at Lan Ling. The woman sat by the window, sunlight slanting in, her wrist bells glinting gold against jade-like skin.

He was lost in another daze.

One was enchantingly alluring, the other ethereally refined—both had utterly captivated him.

"Shameless lecher!" A'Nai spat in disgust as she passed by the window.

Chen Hui snapped back to reality, his face flushing with embarrassment. He hurriedly returned to his seat, urging Lan Ling to eat while his eyes kept drifting toward Lu Jianwei.

A perfect demonstration of "keeping one eye on the bowl and the other on the pot."

"What are you staring at?" Xue Guanhe rolled up his sleeves.

Uncle Zhang subtly blocked his line of sight.

Ignorance breeds audacity.

Though the Eight Directions Inn had gained renown in the martial world, to ordinary folk, it was just an unremarkable roadside inn.

Chen Hui dared to act so brazenly because he had no idea of the formidable power lurking within its walls.

That was until Yan Feicang strode in, damp from the rain, his towering and wild figure exuding an untamed ferocity like an unsheathed blade—enough to make anyone shrink in fear.

His icy glare sent Chen Hui scrambling toward the windowsill, not daring to look again.

Everyone took their seats.

A'Nai wheeled in a chair and settled familiarly at the lower left end.

"Innkeeper Lu, earlier A'Nai caused a disturbance, violating the inn's rules." Wen Zhuzhi produced a money box. "This is our apology."

For a moment, Lu Jianwei was puzzled.

"Xiao Ke, who did A'Nai fight with?"

"Chen Hui," Xiao Ke dutifully explained. "They must have known each other in Nanzhou."

Lu Jianwei accepted the money box without further questions.

No matter what, a meal came first.

She picked up her chopsticks.

"Innkeeper Lu!" Chen Hui suddenly called out. "If that cripple Wen gets to dine with you, shouldn’t I have the same privilege?"

Though cowed by the swordsman’s presence, he couldn’t swallow his pride over the preferential treatment given to Wen and his servant.

Lu Jianwei frowned slightly—she truly disliked interruptions during meals.

"We paid for it," A'Nai sneered. "Must you flap your lips so much?"

"I can pay too! Money is no object for me!"

"Two hundred thousand," Lu Jianwei said with a sweet smile. "Young Master Wen paid two hundred thousand taels for a month’s stay, making him our most honored guest. Naturally, his treatment differs from others’."

Wen Zhuzhi chuckled into his bowl.

Taking his laughter as mockery, Chen Hui’s temper flared. "I’ll stay for a month—no, half a month! Two hundred thousand!"

He was richer than that cripple Wen!

Lu Jianwei no longer minded his noise.

For such a generous patron, she could tolerate minor flaws.

"How would Young Master Chen like to pay?"

Regret instantly flooded Chen Hui, but the sight of Lu Jianwei’s radiant smile stifled any thought of backing out.

Ignoring his servant’s frantic glances, he declared grandly, "I’ll have my man fetch it from the bank. How’s that?"

Lu Jianwei’s smile deepened.

"Young Master Chen is truly magnanimous. Once payment is settled, your meals and lodging are on the house."

Chen Hui: "..."

Would his father beat him to death for this?

But pride won over prudence. After the meal, he sent his servant to withdraw two hundred thousand in silver notes, securing half a month of special treatment.

He could already imagine the thrashing awaiting him at home.

But—

Innkeeper Lu had smiled at him!

The next day, Chen Hui dressed in fine robes and set off with his servant to attend the merchant alliance meeting.

The election proceeded smoothly, and Wang Chijie was chosen as the new alliance leader.

A prominent silk merchant from Jiangzhou, Wang owned vast mulberry fields and possessed a unique silkworm-rearing technique.

The silk produced by his silkworms far surpassed market standards—lustrous as pearls, smooth as satin, and incredibly fine yet durable.

A decade ago, Wang’s textiles had already been designated as imperial tributes and top-tier trade goods.

Back then, however, he was still young and inexperienced. Only now, with his reputation cemented, did he ascend to the leadership position.

Wang Chijie stood tall and scholarly on the podium, surveying the crowd below.

Elders stroked their beards in approval, peers burned with envy, and juniors gazed up in admiration—all eyes converged on him.

He was the undisputed center of attention.

The destitution of his past was long buried.

Today, Wang Chijie was the illustrious leader of the merchant alliance, revered by all.

Chen Hui sat among the crowd, stifling a yawn.

His father had mentioned Wang before—how he’d risen from poverty a decade ago, transforming into a silk magnate overnight thanks to his secret techniques.

Before that, he’d been nothing but a down-and-out scholar.

His success had inspired countless struggling souls and served as a cautionary tale for wayward youths like Chen Hui.

Bored by Wang’s lengthy speech, Chen Hui propped his chin, his vacant stare settling on a rooftop corner.

Then—a figure flashed into view.

Chen Hui’s eyes bulged.

Clad in white, the man balanced effortlessly on the roof’s edge, just like the gallant heroes from martial arts tales!

He wasn’t the only one who noticed.

The swordsman stood silently on the eaves, his gaze fixed on Wang Chijie as if listening intently to his success story.

When Wang mentioned "a stroke of fortune led me to the silkworm-raising method," the man let out a soft laugh.

The sound was faint, yet it carried unnervingly to every ear in the crowd.

Wang Chijie heard it too.

His expression froze mid-sentence.

Then—a glint of sunlight on something impossibly thin.

A thread, fine as a strand of silk, flashed with lethal intent.

In the blink of an eye, it looped around Wang’s neck.

The man smiled cheerfully.

"Wang Chijie, congratulations. You’re going to hell."

A sickening crunch.

Blood fountained from the severed neck, the head toppling clean off.

The body crumpled, eyes wide in eternal shock.

Silence.

Then—screams.

Chen Hui sat paralyzed, staring at the rooftop where the killer had already vanished, robes fluttering like a ghost.

"Call the authorities! Someone call the authorities—!"

Swept up in the panicked stampede, Chen Hui stumbled out of the estate. His servant shielded him as they fled toward the inn.

Panting and frantic, they finally spotted the inn’s signboard.

"Young Master, we’re safe now—" The servant’s voice cut off abruptly, as if choked mid-sentence.

Chen Hui’s vision darkened.

Outside the inn’s courtyard stood a man in white, rapping lightly on the gate.

Xue Guanhe hurried to answer.

First thought: What a handsome gentleman.

Second thought: He looks familiar.

Recognition dawned.

"Young Master Ping Wu?!"

Ping Wu clasped his hands gracefully, just as he had in the past.

"Brother Xue, it’s been a while. Is Innkeeper Lu well?"

"Ah, yes, very well." Xue Guanhe blurted without thinking, "Are you here to see Senior Lan?"

Ping Wu’s brows furrowed slightly. "She likely resents me now."

"Then… are you staying?"

"I wish to speak with Innkeeper Lu."

Lu Jianwei remembered Ping Wu well—he was still on the Black Wind Fort’s hit list.

His sudden appearance at the inn… was he seeking sanctuary?

She met him in the main hall.

"Manager Lu, your grace outshines even your former self." The visitor began with polite flattery before dropping a shocking revelation. "I killed Chai Kun, and today I also took the life of Wang Chijie, the newly appointed leader of the Merchant Alliance. No doubt, the Black Wind Fort and the Mystic Mirror Bureau will soon send men to Jiangzhou. I, Ping Wu, have come today to seek your protection, Manager Lu."

Lu Jianwei replied coldly, "Why should I shelter a murderer?"

"Three hundred thousand taels—in exchange for justice." Ping Wu smiled faintly. "Manager Lu, is this a deal you’re willing to make?"