No Fighting Allowed in the Inn-Chapter 81

◎Cooperation, the Final Medicine, Seeking Treatment◎

Using internal energy to probe another's meridians was not Lu Jianwei's first time doing so.

She picked up Wen Zhuzhi's limp hand, gripping his wrist as if taking his pulse, and channeled a strand of her internal energy into his meridians.

This was a familiar method of treatment, one that had worked flawlessly on other unconscious patients. Lu Jianwei performed it effortlessly, her expression showing no trace of difficulty.

A'Nai, observing her calm demeanor, felt the weight in his heart ease slightly.

At least there was no backlash—

Suddenly, Wen Zhuzhi opened his eyes and reflexively tried to seize Lu Jianwei’s wrist. But the moment his fingers brushed her face, they loosened.

"Lu…" He managed only a single word before collapsing into unconsciousness again.

Lu Jianwei: "…"

She continued channeling her energy, this time meeting no resistance.

If one were to say he lacked vigilance, he had still awakened mid-treatment. Yet if one called him cautious, he had allowed her to proceed without hindrance.

Her eighth-level internal energy surged into his body, bolstering his waning strength. The reinforced energy swiftly overwhelmed the toxins, driving them down to his calves before sealing them in place.

Wen Zhuzhi had diverted the majority of his own eighth-level energy to suppress the poison, leaving only a third-level impression for outsiders to sense.

"Help him lie down," Lu Jianwei instructed A'Nai. "Then fetch paper and ink."

A'Nai carefully settled Wen Zhuzhi before retrieving the requested items.

"Lu Innkeeper, please."

Lu Jianwei swiftly wrote out a prescription and handed it to him.

"His vitality is severely depleted. He needs this medicine to recover. Purchase these herbs from the apothecary, brew them daily, and administer it to him morning and night. A month of this should restore him."

A'Nai clutched the paper as if it were a priceless treasure, tucking it securely into his robes before bowing deeply.

"Lu Innkeeper, thank you."

With that, he hurried out of the inn toward the apothecary.

Lu Jianwei chuckled softly, gathering her medical supplies as she prepared to leave.

"Lu Innkeeper." A low, hoarse voice called from behind her. "Wen owes you yet another life."

She turned to see Wen Zhuzhi awake once more.

"If you keep disregarding your life like this, even I won’t be able to save you," she remarked.

"My abrupt departure in Jingzhou was discourteous," Wen Zhuzhi said with a light cough. "Duty compelled me. I hope you can forgive it."

"Would you truly sacrifice your life for duty?" Lu Jianwei asked.

She deeply respected such dedication, but as a physician, she could not condone it.

Wen Zhuzhi paused, a rare flicker of uncertainty crossing his usually composed gaze. "I… don’t know."

Lu Jianwei met his eyes solemnly. "In my opinion, protecting your own life ensures more opportunities to fulfill your duty. If you die too soon, the Mystic Mirror Bureau won’t last forever."

She understood—the culprit behind the Ge family case possessed formidable strength, and only the Chief Commander could handle it.

Wen Zhuzhi had his reasons, ones she couldn’t fully grasp, nor did she wish to interfere.

But for someone who would sacrifice everything for the greater good, she couldn’t remain entirely unmoved.

"Thank you for the advice." Wen Zhuzhi’s gaze softened. "Lu Innkeeper, I must apologize for my past offenses."

"Offenses?"

"A mysterious inn suddenly appears in the martial world, subduing hundreds of warriors overnight—such unfathomable methods naturally aroused suspicion. The Mystic Mirror Bureau had to investigate its origins, motives, and allegiances. Our first meeting was… less than courteous."

Lu Jianwei arched a brow. "And have you uncovered anything?"

"No," Wen Zhuzhi admitted slowly. "But it no longer matters."

"Oh?"

"Indeed."

Lu Jianwei nodded. "In that case, rest well."

"Lu Innkeeper," Wen Zhuzhi called as she turned to leave. "When Song Xian self-destructed, you could have prioritized your own safety, yet you shielded over a dozen people in the inn. During the Guiheju incident, you refused to abandon the other victims. Such nobility and courage command my utmost admiration."

Lu Jianwei stilled, then turned to meet his gaze.

This was the first time someone had praised her for her compassion. She couldn’t deny it pleased her.

While her good deeds had already yielded tangible rewards, accolades and recognition were never unwelcome—especially when they came from a selfless public servant.

"You flatter me," she said before turning away again. "Young Master Wen, refrain from overthinking during your recovery."

"Understood. Wen will remember."

The Wen master and servant remained at the inn.

The staff had grown accustomed to their presence, though Yue Shu and Xue Guanhe were particularly delighted.

By the next morning, Wen Zhuzhi’s complexion had visibly improved, and A'Nai’s fever blisters had vanished, restoring his usual liveliness.

Alone in her room, Lu Jianwei reviewed Dou Ting’s medical notes, contemplating how to publish the manuscript.

Releasing it under her name would invite criticism, regardless of her intentions. She had no desire to become fodder for gossip.

Yet anonymous publication would only fuel speculation, possibly leading to unscrupulous physicians claiming it as their own.

Dou Ting’s techniques addressed not just martial artists but common ailments, offering remedies that could benefit countless ordinary patients. Even a fraction of his knowledge could save lives if learned by physicians.

But how to introduce it to the world without inviting trouble?

The only viable path Lu Jianwei saw was through the authorities.

The martial world was treacherous. While the government wasn’t without corruption, allying with them currently seemed more advantageous than dealing with martial factions.

Powerhouses like the Thousand Miles Tower, Black Wind Fort, the Martial Alliance, and the Divine Physician Valley all had deep-rooted influence far surpassing hers.

Had they united against her earlier, even her inn’s defensive mechanisms would have lasted only briefly—her funds couldn’t sustain prolonged resistance.

Their restraint stemmed partly from wariness toward her "mysterious" sect and partly because she wasn’t yet worth the effort.

But after the Divine Physician Valley incident, the emergence of the "Righteous Heroine" indicated she was now on someone’s radar.

Her presence had begun to unsettle certain individuals or factions.

Publishing Dou Ting’s notes now would inevitably provoke backlash.

Organizations like the Thousand Miles Tower and Black Wind Fort cultivated their own physicians to avoid dependence on outsiders. Medical knowledge was a coveted resource—one many would kill to monopolize.

Her actions might not incite outright fury, but they would breed resentment, and resentment bred endless trouble.

She wasn’t afraid of trouble, but her priority now was honing her skills for the journey southwest.

In life, one must choose one’s battles.

Though cautious by nature, this time she wished to follow her conscience. Martial techniques could be guarded secrets, but medicine—meant to heal the world—deserved to be shared.

If she ever stood at the pinnacle of the martial world, capable of reshaping its rules, she would gladly pass on her knowledge.

But the time wasn’t right yet. She needed to leave herself an escape route.

Handing the manuscript to a martial faction would be seen as pledging allegiance, earning only that faction’s approval and the hostility of all others.

The Mystic Mirror Bureau was different. As things stood, they held no leverage over her—their highest-ranking officer, the Chief Commander, was her equal at best.

An eighth-level Martial King, and only one at that—a half-crippled one at that.

She could negotiate cooperation on equal footing, even standing above the Mystic Mirror Bureau.

Lu Jianwei made up her mind and headed to the common quarters to find Wen Zhuzhi.

"Manager Lu." Wen Zhuzhi was playing chess by the window. Hearing footsteps, he lifted his head and smiled.

Lu Jianwei glanced at the chessboard. "I’ve told you before not to overthink things."

"Just a casual game, no real thought involved." Wen Zhuzhi swept the pieces aside, wheeled his chair to the table, and poured her a cup of tea. "Still, I’ve made you worry. Let me offer tea in place of wine as an apology."

Lu Jianwei chuckled. "I was more concerned about A'Nai crying and begging me to save his master again."

Wen Zhuzhi’s hand paused briefly before he nodded. "Thank you for the reminder."

Returning to the window, he said, "Manager Lu wouldn’t come here without reason. Whatever you need, I’m at your service."

"I do have something to discuss." Lu Jianwei sat across from him. Sunlight caught the corner of her eyes, making her amber irises gleam brilliantly.

"I’m all ears."

Lu Jianwei straightforwardly explained the matter of Dou Ting’s medical texts and finally asked, "What do you think?"

Instead of answering immediately, he gazed intently at the light dancing at the corner of her eye.

"Wen Zhuzhi?" Lu Jianwei raised an eyebrow. "Why are you staring at me?"

The shimmering light flickered with her movement, bright and vivid.

"Nothing," he said.

Lu Jianwei: ?

"Manager Lu, may I ask—what’s your purpose in making these medical texts public?" Wen Zhuzhi inquired.

"Dou Ting stole medical knowledge from others. After his death, his techniques should be learned by more people to save more lives," she replied. "I also found many medical notes belonging to others in his study, but they couldn’t be taken out due to the restrictions of the Divine Physician Valley."

Wen Zhuzhi understood. "Aside from Dou Ting’s texts, you also want the Divine Physician Valley to return these medical records."

"Exactly." Lu Jianwei nodded. It was always refreshing to talk to someone perceptive.

"Do you know this will provoke the Divine Physician Valley?"

"Are you afraid?"

Wen Zhuzhi lowered his long lashes briefly before meeting her gaze again.

"I’m already a dying man—what do I have to fear? But you’re different."

Lu Jianwei shrugged. "Everything is just the result of the Mystic Mirror Bureau’s investigation."

What did it have to do with an ordinary inn manager like her?

Wen Zhuzhi was momentarily stunned before breaking into a smile.

"Alright."

His quick agreement made Lu Jianwei feel oddly guilty.

"You can refuse."

"Why would I?" Wen Zhuzhi’s expression was sincere. "I quite like this plan. Thank you, Manager Lu, for your generosity."

Lu Jianwei didn’t press further. "Then I’ll await good news."

As she stood, the hem of her robe brushed the edge of the table, its gold and silver embroidery glinting brightly.

"Manager Lu," Wen Zhuzhi called out, "my request to you at the inn still stands."

Lu Jianwei searched her memory but couldn’t recall.

"What request?"

"After my death, eighty percent of my wealth will go to you. Please take care of A'Nai."

Lu Jianwei frowned. "You’re serious?"

"Absolutely."

She scoffed. "Talk to me when you’re actually dying."

He’d shown such a strong will to survive while unconscious—why was he always thinking about death when awake?

Was it the torment of his illness?

After a pause, she added, "If the pain is unbearable, come find me. I can use acupuncture to ease it."

Wen Zhuzhi was taken aback, but before he could respond, she had already stepped out of the room and into the front courtyard.

Outside the inn, a carriage approached.

Just as Lu Jianwei reached the corridor, Little Tao’s lively voice rang out from the courtyard.

"So this is Twelve’s inn?" She was used to the nickname and hadn’t changed it even after learning Lu Jianwei’s real name.

Liang Shangjun played the part of an eager attendant perfectly. "That’s right. Please come in, Lady Shangguan, Little Tao."

Shangguan Yao, entering the courtyard, spotted Lu Jianwei standing under the corridor. The latter had removed her mask, revealing striking features and an elegant, poised demeanor.

For a moment, Shangguan Yao was speechless.

Though her appearance was different, her presence was unmistakable.

This extraordinary woman before her was Shen Twelve, the friend she’d met on the road, and also Manager Lu of the Eight Directions Inn.

Little Tao scanned the area but didn’t see the face she remembered. "Where’s Twelve?"

Lu Jianwei smiled, stepping forward and pulling two candies wrapped in familiar paper from her waistband.

"After a long journey, something sweet might help."

Hearing the familiar voice, Little Tao’s eyes widened in shock, forgetting even to take the candy.

"You’re Twelve?"

"Manager, are these friends of yours?" Uncle Zhang approached warmly. "How should we arrange their accommodations?"

Lu Jianwei said, "The east-side superior room on the third floor."

"Understood." Uncle Zhang called Yue Shu and Xue Guanhe to help with the luggage, then glanced at Liang Shangjun. "And this young man is…?"

Liang Shangjun had changed his face again, so no one at the inn recognized him, assuming he was just a hired coachman.

"Elder Zhang, don’t you remember me? I’m Xiao Liang, an old hand at the inn. I’ll be working under Manager Lu from now on—please continue to look out for me."

Uncle Zhang: "…"

The others: "…"

Yue Shu studied him with a complicated expression. "You really play the part of a coachman well."

Xue Guanhe added, "I didn’t recognize you either."

"They say the ‘Thousand-Faced Phantom Thief’ can change his appearance endlessly, mastering dialects from all regions, making it near impossible to see through his disguises. Truly, seeing is believing," Uncle Zhang praised sincerely. "You look nothing like last time."

Liang Shangjun laughed. "I owe Yue Shu for his advice at the stable last time."

Yue Shu scratched his head sheepishly.

Together, they carried the luggage to the third floor.

"Sister Lu, I never knew you were this beautiful," Shangguan Yao said, her eyes sparkling as she stole glances at Lu Jianwei’s face. She then instructed Little Tao to fetch a money pouch. "Since you run an inn for guests, I’m taking up a room that could be used for business. Here’s the payment."

Her tone left no room for refusal, so Lu Jianwei accepted.

"If you need anything, just let me know."

"Mm!" Shangguan Yao nodded eagerly, tugging at Lu Jianwei’s sleeve. "Are there any fun places in Zhangzhou?"

Lu Jianwei shook her head. "I haven’t explored much. Madam Yun was born here—she’d know better. You can ask her."

With the Shangguan party settled in, Liang Shangjun committed fully to his role as a staff member of the Eight Directions Inn.

He was far more diligent than before.

If Uncle Zhang wiped tables, Liang Shangjun snatched the cloth away. If Yue Shu drew water, he helped wind the rope. If Xue Guanhe cooked, he eagerly assisted. Even Yan Feicang, chopping firewood, couldn’t escape his enthusiastic participation.

"Brother Liang, why do you seem like a completely different person?" Yue Shu asked, holding a few candies and popping a pale green one into his mouth.

The candies were from Manager Lu, given to everyone as a gift from her sect during her travels.

He treasured them, limiting himself to one a day.

Liang Shangjun swept the courtyard briskly, grinning. "Do I? I’ve always been hardworking."

"He’s just coveting Manager Lu’s disguise techniques," A'Nai teased from the corridor, arms crossed. "The ‘Thousand-Faced Phantom Thief’ is peerless in the art of disguise—why bother putting on such an act?"

Liang Shangjun admitted frankly, "I am indeed interested in Shopkeeper Lu's disguise techniques. My own skills in this area are not top-tier in the martial world, while hers are far superior. I’d like to seek her guidance."

"Such skills aren’t easily taught to outsiders, are they?" Shangguan Yao, dressed in a water-blue gown, joined them with Little Tao in tow. "Sister Lu excels in martial arts, medicine, and even disguise techniques—she’s truly remarkable."

Little Tao nodded. "I agree. If this were an academy, she’d qualify as an elder at the very least."

"An elder would still be an understatement," Liang Shangjun shook his head. "She’s an Eighth-Level Martial King—how many sects in the world can boast such a figure? And how many can claim to have a Martial King who is also a polymath?"

Calling her a polymath might be a slight exaggeration, but warriors like Lu Jianwei, who excel in both martial arts and medicine, are exceedingly rare.

Moreover, Lu Jianwei is also a master of blade techniques. Though she has never displayed them publicly, one can glimpse her prowess through Xue Guanhe’s swordsmanship.

Now, with her disguise skills added to the list, one wonders just how many talents she possesses.

How could someone like her be confined to a mere elder’s position?

She might as well establish her own sect.

Shangguan Yao said with admiration, "I wonder what kind of sect could nurture someone as extraordinary as Sister Lu. She surpasses even the heroic figures from those chivalric novels."

"The Righteous Heroine of the Blue Sky is quite enjoyable," Little Tao chimed in.

Liang Shangjun: "..."

If people knew Shopkeeper Lu had deliberately authored a rival novel to The Righteous Heroine of the Blue Sky, wouldn’t their jaws drop?

Unlike the effusively flattering The Righteous Heroine of the Blue Sky, the new novel, Tales of the Eight Directions, emphasized Lu Jianwei’s flaws—her miserliness, cold-heartedness, lack of skill in needlework, and other shortcomings—creating a stark contrast.

Controversy only fuels popularity.

The clash between the old and new novels stirred up waves in the martial world, with readers from both sides engaging in heated debates.

Only the bookstore owners were laughing all the way to the bank.

The bookstores in Jiangzhou City were no exception, with some patrons even arguing outside the shops.

"Has Shopkeeper Lu’s every action not been about delivering justice? She is the radiant and righteous heroine of the Blue Sky!"

"She does have a chivalrous heart, but she’s human—and humans have flaws. Is it wrong for this book to say she loves money? Doesn’t she?"

"Exactly! Have you forgotten the hundred taels per vote during the hearing?"

"And how is she ‘cold-hearted’? That’s just slander!"

"It refers to her ruthlessness toward enemies—have you forgotten the Six of the Stable? Du Hanqiu? Dou Ting and Shangguan He?"

"..."

"I actually think Tales of the Eight Directions is more realistic than The Righteous Heroine of the Blue Sky. The Lu Jianwei in this book feels like a real person."

"I agree."

A'Nai went out to buy medicine and, seeing the bookstore packed with people, joined the crowd out of curiosity. He bought both books and brought them back.

"Young Master, I heard these two books are about Shopkeeper Lu, and their fans are at each other’s throats."

Wen Zhuzhi took them.

He started with The Righteous Heroine of the Blue Sky, his expression unchanging from the first page to the last.

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A'Nai, meanwhile, read the other book, chuckling from time to time.

"What is it?" Wen Zhuzhi asked.

"This novel is quite amusing," A'Nai said, flipping through the pages with lingering delight. "It feels like the author knows Shopkeeper Lu very well."

Wen Zhuzhi: "Let me see."

He set aside The Righteous Heroine of the Blue Sky and picked up the new novel. After a few pages, his expression softened, and a faint smile touched the corners of his eyes.

"What kind of nonsense is this?" A'Nai frowned as he skimmed The Righteous Heroine of the Blue Sky. "It pretends to praise Shopkeeper Lu, but it’s actually insidious."

The Righteous Heroine of the Blue Sky was subtly crafted—most readers wouldn’t detect its hidden agenda, only seeing the flawless, heroic figure and becoming enamored with her perfection.

And that was precisely the trap buried beneath.

The moment the "Righteous Heroine" showed the slightest flaw, it would ignite an invisible fuse, setting off a storm of backlash.

Wen Zhuzhi turned to the publisher’s page of Tales of the Eight Directions, and a glimmer of understanding and appreciation flashed in his eyes.

"This book was published by Ancient Vine Books."

A'Nai gasped. "You mean Liang—"

He cut himself off, then flipped open The Righteous Heroine of the Blue Sky and scoffed. "The publisher of this book is some no-name outfit—clearly a coward hiding in the shadows."

Upstairs in her room, Lu Jianwei sipped on orange juice she’d bought from the system store while studying pharmacology. The system even recycled the empty cup afterward.

She ​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌​‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​‌​‌​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​‌‌​​​‌‌​‌‌​​​‌‌​​‌​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌‌​​‌​​‌‌‌​​​​​‌‌​​​​‍could clearly feel that her medical skills had reached a bottleneck. To advance further, she needed not just a breakthrough but also extensive practical experience.

When planning to open a branch, she had envisioned the Jiangzhou location as a "recovery-themed" inn.

Previously, distractions and her lack of renown—along with insufficient martial prowess to command respect—had limited her to sporadic rescues. But now, the time was ripe.

She summoned Uncle Zhang and gave him instructions, which he promptly carried out.

Thanks to the novels’ publicity, Shopkeeper Lu of the Eight Directions Inn had become renowned throughout the martial world.

Her medical skills were now widely praised.

Many wished to seek her treatment but hesitated, intimidated by the prestige of an Eighth-Level Martial King and fearing she might disdain to treat commoners.

Then, the Eight Directions Inn made an announcement.

From the first hour of Chen (7 AM) to the first hour of You (5 PM) daily, the inn would accept patients on a first-come, first-served basis. No exceptions.

Commoners and martial artists alike, regardless of status, were welcome to seek treatment.

Fees would be determined by the severity of the condition.

The news spread like wildfire.

An Eighth-Level Martial King personally offering consultations—how often did such an opportunity arise? Missing it would mean never getting another chance.

The Divine Physician Valley did have Eighth-Level Medical Sages, but they were beyond the reach of ordinary people.

Word traveled fast, and those nearby seized the opportunity, rushing to Jiangzhou City for treatment at the Eight Directions Inn.

The inn bustled with activity daily.

Locals, intrigued by the commotion, inquired and soon joined the queues for treatment.

The inn’s staff were overwhelmed, with Tiao bearing the brunt of the work.

For minor ailments, Lu Jianwei left the treatments to Tiao, greatly honing her medical skills—something Tiao thoroughly enjoyed.

Between patients, Lu Jianwei and Tiao continued researching the final ingredient for the antidote.

"From a pharmacological standpoint, the existing ingredients should suffice to counteract ‘Journey to the Underworld,’" Tiao muttered, frowning at the prescription. "Why add one more?"

Lu Jianwei: "You’re right, but the dosages of the current ingredients are hard to balance. Individually, their properties are excellent, but combined, their efficacy diminishes. The final ingredient might serve to harmonize them."

"Balance the properties?" Tiao ran through countless herbs in her mind but still couldn’t pinpoint the solution.

The Soul-Severing Ridge in the southwest… balancing properties…

Lu Jianwei suddenly had a flash of inspiration—it seemed she had recalled an exceptionally rare and unique medicinal ingredient.

Outside Jiangzhou City, a young man dressed in coarse short robes pulled a wooden cart, trudging step by step with great effort toward the city gates.

On the cart lay a woman in gray robes, appearing to be in her thirties, with delicate features and faint traces of time at the corners of her eyes.

Her eyes were tightly shut, her face pale, and her breathing dangerously faint.

When it came time for the city gate inspection, the young man carefully retrieved a travel permit from his pocket, along with two copper coins.

"From Zhangzhou. Go on in," the guard said, tossing the permit back to him.

The boy hurriedly caught it and tucked it securely back into his clothes before gripping the cart’s rope again, dragging it forward with heavy steps into the city.

After just a few paces, he mustered his courage and asked, "Sir, may I ask how to get to the Eight Directions Inn?"

The guard gave him a once-over and replied, "It’s in the southern district. Turn right first."

"Thank you," the boy said politely, bowing slightly before turning the cart to the right.

Behind him, hushed whispers followed.

"Another one looking for Shopkeeper Lu to save a life."

"Look at him—he’s so poor he doesn’t have two coins to rub together. How can he afford treatment?"

"True enough."

The boy lowered his lashes, his arms straining as he pulled the cart, veins bulging from the effort.