Chapter 113
◎ Level Nine Breakthrough, Detoxification, Healing ◎
No one knew what had happened.
They only saw Lu Jianwei raise her blade, its momentum surging like a raging flood, crashing toward the motionless Zhuang Wenqing.
Under the blazing light of her blade, Zhuang Wenqing seemed to have forgotten how to resist. He didn’t even lift his sword before being engulfed by the boundless radiance of Lu Jianwei’s attack.
To everyone’s surprise, the assassins under his control also lost their will to fight, standing in confusion with weapons in hand.
The chaotic scene finally settled, leaving only the overwhelming sword light outside the arena, dazzling and blinding.
The warriors could no longer see the figures obscured by the brilliance.
Seizing the moment, Lu Jianwei seized Zhuang Wenqing by the throat.
The system’s restrictions on her had lifted, and she wouldn’t let his inner energy go to waste.
If Pei Zhi hadn’t arrived, her plan was to use Xiao Wu to eliminate Zhuang Wenqing, quell the chaos of the gu worms, and then fight the masked Martial King head-on.
But Pei Zhi’s appearance had given her the opportunity to absorb inner energy and enhance her cultivation.
Even absorbing just a little would increase her chances of victory.
Before life completely faded, the inner energy within the meridians wouldn’t dissipate. A steady stream of energy poured into Lu Jianwei’s body, refined by her cultivation technique into her own power before gathering in her dantian.
Her level progression skyrocketed like a rocket.
From mid-Level Eight to late-Level Eight, then breaking through the barrier to Level Nine, finally stabilizing at early-Level Nine.
The progression bar for Level Nine was immense, and the remaining energy from Zhuang Wenqing only filled a tiny fraction.
To outsiders, the aura of that blazing sword light grew stronger and more overwhelming. Only when she advanced from mid to late stage did they realize—
Lu Jianwei was breaking through!
"An epiphany?" Zhao Xian murmured.
The masked Martial King also noticed this, his sword strikes growing fiercer.
He couldn’t let her succeed!
A storm of sword energy, carrying the crushing force of a late-Level Eight powerhouse, descended upon Pei Zhi like a thunderous avalanche.
"Pfft—" Pei Zhi spat out a mouthful of blood.
The poison in the veins of his face began to spread outward.
He was already at his limit, unable to suppress the toxins with his inner energy any longer.
"Young Master!" A'Nai cried out, rushing forward without hesitation, only to be stopped by Yan Feicang.
"Are you trying to die?!"
A'Nai’s tears fell. "My life isn’t worth much."
Yan Feicang: "You’d just be throwing your life away."
This was a late-Level Eight powerhouse, not some random weakling. A single sword beam could kill a Level Four martial artist.
Yan Buyou and Jin Huanrong couldn’t bear to watch, both raising their blades to charge at the masked Martial King. But before they could get close, sword energy sliced their skin, drawing blood.
He was too strong—there was no way to save Pei Zhi.
Among the present experts, aside from Xie Tongshu of the Carefree Sect and Zhao Xian of the Mystic Mirror Bureau, no one else could even approach the masked Martial King.
Shangguan Huai’s face twisted in anguish. At early-Level Eight, he barely managed to get a little closer before sword light severed his hair and left bloody gashes on his face.
"Stop this," he said, staring at the masked Martial King.
The masked Martial King paused briefly but remained silent, continuing to thrust his sword toward Pei Zhi’s heart.
The blade pierced through the black robes, mere moments from skewering his heart.
Then, a hand lightly pinched the sword’s edge.
The blade stopped dead.
Lu Jianwei had appeared at some unknown moment, her gaze calm as she glanced at him. With a flick of her finger, the sword shattered instantly, leaving only the hilt in his grip.
The masked Martial King: "..."
Everyone: ???
Level Nine! A twenty-seven-year-old Martial King!
What kind of monster was she?!
Pei Zhi’s mind relaxed, exhaustion flooding his body like a tide. The poison in his face spread unchecked through his meridians, rushing toward his organs.
His body swayed, on the verge of collapsing backward.
Lu Jianwei supported him with one hand, channeling inner energy into his meridians to force the poison back down to his legs.
The dark-purple veins on his face gradually faded.
"Rest easy. It’ll be over soon."
Pei Zhi smiled at her, his lips stained red with blood.
"Am I… ugly?"
Lu Jianwei brushed a hand through his hair.
"No."
She turned to A'Nai. "Take your young master back to the main courtyard."
A'Nai wiped away his tears and immediately helped Pei Zhi away, their figures soon disappearing from sight.
Silence fell over the arena.
Lu Jianwei turned, fixing her gaze on the frozen masked Martial King.
The latter had just fought her and been stalled by Pei Zhi, draining much of his energy. Now, under the crushing pressure of her Level Nine aura, he couldn’t even speak, his exposed eyes filled with disbelief.
He never imagined Lu Jianwei would break through to Level Nine right before his eyes.
A twenty-seven-year-old Martial King—who would believe it?
She no longer needed any backing from elders or sects. She was the backing now.
The Eight Directions Inn was no longer just a fledgling force but a major faction on par with the Carefree Sect, the Mystic Mirror Bureau, and the Martial Alliance.
That might be an exaggeration—in terms of overall strength, the inn still lagged far behind those sects. But with Lu Jianwei’s personal power, she had single-handedly elevated the inn’s standing.
Now, she could truly be called the strongest in the world—other Level Nine ancestors rarely appeared in the martial world anymore.
No one would dare disrespect her or underestimate the inn again.
Lu Jianwei raised a finger, condensing inner energy into a blade-like force, and cleanly split the masked Martial King’s mask in two—just as he had done to Pei Zhi earlier.
A somewhat aged face was revealed.
"Who is he?"
"I don’t recognize him."
"A late-Level Eight Martial King must be someone famous, right?"
"Does anyone know him?"
Whispers spread through the crowd as they studied his face.
The masked Martial King lowered his head in humiliation, veins bulging on his forehead as he struggled against Lu Jianwei’s unyielding suppression.
Lu Jianwei took out an Ordinary Guest pill and tossed it to Liang Shangjun, who understood and forced it into the masked Martial King’s mouth.
Soon, the man felt his inner energy being sealed, his eyes nearly splitting with rage.
He refused to accept this!
Today should have been a guaranteed victory—how had things turned out like this?
How had Lu Jianwei broken through to Level Nine so quickly?
Was it because of some epiphany during her fight with Zhuang Wenqing?
Ridiculous!
"Does anyone recognize this man?" Lu Jianwei asked.
When no one answered, Shangguan Huai stepped forward, his face filled with grief and shame.
"Manager Lu, he is a senior elder of the academy—Shangguan Chi."
"Shangguan Chi?!" Yan Buyou exclaimed in shock, scrutinizing the man. "I remember hearing about him when I was very young. They said he was a genius from the Luzhou Academy, reaching Level Six at a young age. He was supposed to be the next academy head, but he declined."
"Why?" Jin Huanrong asked.
"Because he preferred researching cultivation techniques and martial skills," Yan Buyou said. "After becoming an elder, he disappeared from public view."
All eyes turned to Shangguan Huai.
No wonder he had urged the masked Martial King to stop earlier—they were connected like this.
The Luzhou Academy had been founded by the Shangguan family and, though it now included many outsiders, the Shangguan clan still held the highest authority.
Every academy head was a Shangguan.
Shangguan Huai wasn’t the most outstanding of his generation—if ranked, he’d be outside the top five.
His appointment as the sect leader was the result of intricate power plays—a fact well understood by all the top martial artists involved.
The Shangguan family was known for producing research fanatics. Many talented individuals preferred delving into profound martial arts rather than wielding authority, yet they didn’t want power slipping away entirely. Thus, they pushed Shangguan Huai—a clan member with shallow roots and little threat—into the position of sect leader.
Regardless of how humiliating Shangguan Huai’s leadership was, the most pressing matter now was figuring out why Shangguan Chi had committed these acts.
"Shangguan Chi, what was your purpose in besieging the inn and slaughtering so many people?!" Zhao Xian demanded sharply.
His son’s meridians were now damaged, and the pain in his heart was indescribable. Facing the culprit, how could he not be furious?
Shangguan Chi merely chuckled coldly, ignoring him entirely.
He looked utterly unbothered, like a dead pig unafraid of boiling water.
Zhao Xian, enraged, drew his sword to stab him, but Lu Jianwei intercepted with a mere flick of her sleeve, freezing his blade mid-air.
"Manager Lu, what is the meaning of this?" Zhao Xian’s face darkened with humiliation.
Lu Jianwei had no intention of interrogating him. With a wave of internal energy, she sealed his mute and vital acupoints from a distance.
"If you refuse to speak, then you need not speak at all. The inn’s newly built stable hasn’t had any guests yet. Liang Shangjun, take care of our first visitor."
Liang Shangjun eagerly grabbed the man. "Right away!"
The nimble thief dashed off with his captive in tow.
"Manager Lu, Zhuang Wenqing is dead, and Shangguan Chi is the only one left who knows the truth. Shouldn’t we question him before dealing with him?" Hei Zhan ventured cautiously.
Lu Jianwei: "Who said he’s the only one?"
With a flick of her wrist, a tiny bead shot toward a distant figure. A muffled groan followed as Lan Ling, who had been trying to flee, collapsed weakly to the ground.
"Manager Lu, I was forced—"
"I don’t want to hear your excuses," Lu Jianwei said, her gaze icy and unreadable. "Talk."
Lan Ling: "..."
She lay sprawled on the ground, her meticulously applied makeup smeared with dirt, her once-coquettish and triumphant demeanor now replaced by sheer wretchedness.
A sixth-level martial artist trying to escape from so many masters was as futile as trying to strike fire from ice—no need for even the usual interrogation drugs.
Everyone waited for her to speak.
Lan Ling let out a bitter laugh. "Manager Lu, you overestimate me. I was merely following orders. How would I know the true purpose behind the Tower Master’s actions? I never wanted to harm so many people, but—"
Her mute acupoint was sealed instantly.
Lu Jianwei repeated the process, sealing all her vital points before instructing the staff: "The stable."
She had no time to waste here.
The crowd: "..."
This was just too cruel—teasing them with no answers.
"Elder Meng," Lu Jianwei turned to the disheveled Meng Ti'an, "can the Carefree Sect handle the wounded from the arena?"
Meng Ti'an snapped out of his daze and nodded eagerly. "Yes! Absolutely!"
Only a fool would refuse!
Each patient meant another Benevolence Pearl—something he had been desperate to obtain. Now, they were practically handed to him.
Besides, this was a ninth-level Martial King. Refusing her would be suicidal.
"The rest can wait until tomorrow," Lu Jianwei said. "Excuse me."
She left without hesitation, her figure vanishing swiftly. It took a long while for the stunned crowd to recover, their minds still reeling from the events.
The inn’s staff worked efficiently, guiding the wounded to the medical quarters where the Carefree Sect’s healers took over.
The others returned to their lodgings, silently processing the day’s revelations.
The assassins, now freed from the control of the Gu Emperor, were also drugged and bound in the arena, awaiting the manager’s orders for their fate tomorrow.
Zhuang Wenqing’s corpse was taken to the main courtyard, shielded from prying eyes.
But his death was already witnessed—his face purpled, a clear sign of poisoning.
As a physician, Lu Jianwei naturally possessed potent toxins, and silently poisoning someone was well within her capabilities.
No one doubted it.
---
Main Courtyard, Dormitory Room
Lu Jianwei dismissed A'Nai and the staff before removing Pei Zhi’s robes, revealing his legs covered in dark, toxin-laced veins.
Without his internal energy to suppress it, the poison had begun spreading again.
She channeled her own energy to forcefully restrain the toxin, then took out silver needles, piercing the tainted meridians to draw out drops of poisoned blood into a clean cup.
The glass bead opened, and Little Mist—as instructed—dived into the cup, swallowing every drop of the toxic blood.
The Five Elements Poison was formidable. It took Little Mist a while to adjust, leaving the creature sluggish before retreating into the glass bead to rest.
Using the Yin-Yang Gu to detoxify required ten consecutive days of the creature consuming the poisoned blood. Only after fully digesting the toxin and adapting to the patient’s blood could the detoxification begin.
The Yin-Yang Gu had been raised on rare medicinal herbs, including countless doses of Gu Bai Tou. Its mouthparts could secrete deadly venom—or life-saving saliva.
The poison was difficult to cure because it had fused with Pei Zhi’s blood. Though he had suppressed it in his legs, traces still circulated throughout his body.
The leg meridians were part of the bloodstream. No matter how much he suppressed it, the poison lingered everywhere—hence his increasingly cold constitution and fading senses.
By drinking his poisoned blood, the Yin-Yang Gu would develop an antidotal property within itself—or it, too, would perish.
This process required ten days.
Lu Jianwei could wait. So could Pei Zhi.
Aside from the poison flare-up, Pei Zhi had also suffered internal injuries. Lu Jianwei retrieved a healing pill and placed it in his mouth.
A'Nai had already wiped away the blood staining his lips, leaving them pale with a faint purple tint, accentuating his pallor.
She pressed her thumb lightly against his lips and couldn’t help but smile.
Little Guest: "Weiwei, Mei Sixian did nothing and has already returned to his quarters."
"Mm." Lu Jianwei stood and left the room. "Keep watching him."
A'Nai rushed forward. "Manager Lu, how is the young master?"
"He won’t die."
"..."
The other staff also looked at her hesitantly.
Lu Jianwei chuckled. "What? Don’t trust my medical skills?"
"It’s not that," Yue Shu shook his head. "We just never expected Young Master Wen to actually be Commander Pei of the Mystic Mirror Bureau."
Lu Jianwei: "No matter his identity, he’s still part of the inn. There’s no need to dwell on it."
"I understand," Yue Shu nodded. "Back then, it was the Mystic Mirror Bureau that insisted on investigating the treasure map case. I thanked Envoy Han but never got to thank Commander Pei in person."
He didn’t care about Young Master Wen’s other identity.
Uncle Zhang and Yun Hui cared even less.
Someone peeked in from outside the courtyard—likely Jin Poxiao, Qi Yan, Han Xiaofeng, and others, probably curious about Wen Zhuzhi’s true identity.
Lu Jianwei had no time to entertain them. "If you have questions, ask him directly when he wakes. Today, the inn is closed to visitors. Please leave."
With a wave of her hand, the courtyard gate swung shut under the force of her energy.
"A'Nai, take good care of your young master."
"I will!"
Lu Jianwei returned to her room and collapsed onto the bed, finally allowing herself to relax.
The true mastermind behind the chessboard hadn’t been uncovered yet—but for now, she permitted herself a small moment of joy.
"Little Guest, I want to see fireworks."
Little Guest immediately lit up the screen with bursts of colorful fireworks, one after another, blooming brilliantly before her eyes in dazzling splendor.
"Xiao Wei, congratulations." Xiao Ke was equally delighted for her.
Lu Jianwei curled her lips in a faint smile. "Thank you."
"That move earlier where you used inner energy to close the courtyard gate was really impressive. I still remember how you tricked me into opening the door for you, pretending to be some grand master."
"That was just to keep the inn running smoothly." Lu Jianwei chuckled softly. "That was so long ago, yet you still remember."
"Not that long—less than two years."
Lu Jianwei felt a sudden wave of nostalgia.
Less than two years, yet it felt like an eternity had passed.
"Want to watch a movie?" Xiao Ke asked. "You've been busy for days. Now that everything's settled, you should relax a little."
Lu Jianwei sat up. "No need. I still have to refine my inner energy and consolidate my cultivation."
Becoming a ninth-rank martial artist didn’t automatically make her the strongest in the world.
There was still that quasi-Grandmaster in the inn whose origins remained unclear, the mastermind lurking in the shadows with no leads yet, and countless matters waiting for her attention.
She couldn’t afford to slack off.
The night passed uneventfully.
By dawn, Lu Jianwei had fully refined her inner energy and descended the stairs.
"Manager Lu, breakfast is ready." A'Nai approached, respectful yet familiar. "I followed the recipe Xue Guanhe left."
Xue Guanhe was still in seclusion, so A'Nai had taken over preparing meals for the main courtyard.
"Thank you for your hard work." Lu Jianwei nodded and took her seat.
The other staff members soon joined, silently digging into their meals.
Once she finished eating, Uncle Zhang inquired, "Manager, some people asked if today’s matches will continue."
"Many fighters were injured yesterday. We’ll resume after they recover," Lu Jianwei replied. "If anyone feels this is a waste of time, they’re free to leave the inn early."
Uncle Zhang nodded. "Understood."
No one would choose to leave now—not only because they didn’t want to offend a ninth-rank Martial Monarch, but also because they were eager to witness the aftermath of the recent bloodshed.
Why had Zhuang Wenqing and Shangguan Chi orchestrated such slaughter?
What was the truth behind those mind-controlled individuals?
But the most maddening and bewildering revelation was the true identity of Wen Zhuzhi, the wealthiest man in Jiangnan.
Those who had been fooled by him wanted nothing more than to travel back in time and smack themselves silly.
Alas, that supposedly terminally ill Commander Pei Zhi was now safely under Manager Lu’s protection, untouchable by ordinary means.
With these complicated thoughts churning in their minds, none of them had slept well. Until they uncovered the truth, leaving was out of the question.
The room rates might be steep, but an event like this was a once-in-a-lifetime spectacle—worth every penny.
"Manager, when will you interrogate those people?" Liang Shangjun loved seeing villains get their comeuppance.
Lu Jianwei replied, "No rush."
She was certain other matters would come knocking today.
"Manager Lu, my master still hasn’t woken up. Could you check on him?" A'Nai, having finished washing the dishes, hurried over and asked cautiously.
"Don’t worry." Lu Jianwei smiled. "After all these years, he deserves a proper rest. A few days of deep sleep won’t harm him."
A'Nai’s eyes brightened. "That’s a relief."
Eagerly, he set up a tea table and small stove in the courtyard to brew tea, then brought out a rocking chair, grinning. "Manager Lu, you worked hard yesterday. Why not relax here with some tea and sunshine?"
Lu Jianwei didn’t refuse.
The chair swayed gently, the fragrance of tea filling the courtyard as the warm spring sun bathed her in its glow.
A few blossoms had unfurled in the corner, their subtle scent drifting through the air.
Just as she was savoring this rare moment of peace, an unwelcome visitor arrived.
Meng Ti'an knocked nervously on the courtyard gate.
Moments later, the gate opened, and a young man asked, "Elder Meng, what brings you here?"
"Young Hero Yue, I have some matters I’d like to discuss with Manager Lu. Could you kindly announce my presence?"
"Come in." A woman’s calm voice sounded from within.
Yue Shu stepped aside to let Meng Ti'an enter.
This wasn’t Meng Ti'an’s first time in the main courtyard, but his mindset was entirely different now—filled with a complex mix of reverence and awe.
The reasons for his awe were many.
Her youth, her gender, her medical skills, and the sight of her ascending to ninth-rank in front of countless witnesses the day before had left him both stunned and humbled.
He was past fifty, barely a seventh-rank, and had once prided himself on his cultivation and respectable medical expertise.
Looking back now, he realized how narrow-minded he’d been.
The physicians of the Divine Physician Valley had indeed grown far too arrogant.
Only today did he truly understand that.
"Manager Lu, forgive the intrusion." Meng Ti'an bowed respectfully.
Lu Jianwei said simply, "Speak."
Her eyes were half-lidded, her demeanor languid, yet no one dared act presumptuously around her.
Meng Ti'an lowered his head in shame. "Among the injured fighters from yesterday, many suffered severe damage to their meridians and dantians. Without your acupuncture techniques, the physicians of our Divine Physician Valley would struggle to heal them."
"How many?"
"Thirty-five serious cases, fifteen on the brink of death." The rest had minor injuries that the valley’s physicians could handle.
"Do you have a list?"
"Ah?"
Lu Jianwei stood. "Never mind. I’ll go with you."
Since the incident had happened at her inn, she couldn’t ignore it. If Tiao hadn’t been in seclusion, she would’ve sent her instead.
The medical lodge was packed, physicians from the Divine Physician Valley and other major sects rushing about in a frenzy. The place buzzed with noise until someone suddenly called out—
"Manager Lu is here!"
Silence fell instantly.
Every eye turned toward the entrance.
She looked serene, her gaze steady, dressed in simple robes without a single adornment. Apart from her striking beauty, she seemed no different from any ordinary woman at first glance.
But they all knew—this woman could reduce them to dust with a mere flick of her wrist.
Accustomed to such attention, Lu Jianwei ignored the stares and asked directly, "Where are the patients?"
"Manager Lu, this way." Meng Ti'an’s face betrayed a hint of excitement.
Though he couldn’t witness her needle techniques firsthand, seeing her save those who should have been beyond saving was a privilege in itself.
Lu Jianwei followed him to the innermost room of the lodge.
Every physician from the Divine Physician Valley was working tirelessly to stabilize the wounded.
They were used to others begging for their help, never imagining they’d one day exhaust themselves trying to save lives.
Yet this, they realized, was the true duty of a healer.
They’d been placed on too high a pedestal, forgetting the meaning of "compassion."
But as they fought to keep patients alive, a strange sense of fulfillment began to bloom in their hearts.
"Manager Lu."
"Manager Lu."
"Manager Lu."
Every physician bowed in deference.
Lu Jianwei approached a dying warrior, her expression calm. "Bring me the needles."
Meng Ti'an personally presented the needle case.
Lu Jianwei ordered, "Remove his clothes."
A physician swiftly undressed the patient.
Her movements were swift and precise. Standing effortlessly by the bedside, she inserted the silver needles into precise acupoints without hesitation.
Meng Ti'an ventured cautiously, "Should we step out?"
"No need."
Lu Jianwei wasn’t breaking her own rules—she simply knew they could watch all they wanted but would never replicate her skill.
Meng Ti'an and the others felt their hearts skip, but instead of secret delight at the chance to steal her techniques, they were filled with solemn respect.
They watched intently, memorizing every move she made.
However, when Lu Jianwei inserted the final needle, the dying martial artist's expression of pain completely faded, and his eyes slowly opened. Yet, they still couldn't comprehend.
Just why was that?
What do you think?
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