Chapter Eighty-Two: Manager Lu

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“You two, you can’t just wander into the backyard as you please.”

“What do you know? Step aside quickly!”

Lu Chenyuan and Shangguan Chuci had just stepped out from the backyard when they heard Wang Ergou’s voice at the entrance. Glancing toward the main hall, they saw that besides Han Lin and the guards, three unfamiliar guests had arrived.

The two at the front were wrapped in voluminous cloaks, their hoods pulled low, casting deep shadows over their faces, revealing only their features. The one on the left appeared to be a man, his face gaunt, brows slanting sharply into his temples. The one on the right was a woman, her skin fairer than snow, her features exquisitely delicate. Even half-hidden beneath the hood’s shadow, her beauty was impossible to conceal. Yet her eyes were icy, forbidding, warding off all who might approach.

Behind them stood a young monk, no older than sixteen or seventeen, with clear brows and bright eyes. He wore a slightly worn gray robe, his expression calm, a stark contrast to the tense atmosphere hovering in the hall.

Shangguan Chuci’s gaze lingered on the cloaked strangers. Deep within her eyes, the “Fire of Logic” in her sea of consciousness quietly ignited. Under the light of this mental flame, she saw that beneath their cloaks, the two were not ordinary flesh and blood. Many parts of their bodies had twisted and mutated, their skin and flesh knotted and writhing as if alive.

This was the phenomenon of Dao transformation in cultivators, and not at the usual level. If those from the Demon Suppression Bureau saw this, they would certainly drag them away without hesitation.

She glanced sideways and saw that Lu Chenyuan, too, wore a grave expression, brows tightly furrowed. She knew he was innately sensitive to evil energies and corrupt influences. If he looked so troubled, he must be seeing much the same as she did.

Their eyes met, and without a word, a tacit understanding passed between them.

Wang Ergou was still arguing with the newcomers, but seeing Shangguan Chuci and Lu Chenyuan arrive, he breathed a sigh of relief and hurriedly said,

“Master Chu, you’re finally here. These two claim they’re cultivators from the Nine Provinces Immortal Sect, and say the inn is plagued by evil spirits. They’re here to exorcise it.”

“I’ve already told them that the inn was robbed a few days ago, someone died, and the lingering blood and foul air are nothing unusual. It’ll clear up in a few days. If they want a room, they can just ask properly—why insist on barging into the backyard?”

The cloaked woman’s cold gaze swept toward Shangguan Chuci, and she asked icily,

“Are you the proprietor here?”

“Me? No, I’m not.”

Shangguan Chuci smiled, tapping her fan lightly toward Lu Chenyuan beside her, and said,

“You’re mistaken, miss. I’m just a passing guest. This gentleman, Brother Lu, is the true owner here.”

Lu Chenyuan was momentarily stunned, caught off guard by her sudden bestowal of the “proprietor” title upon him. Yet, seeing the sly smile in her eyes, he knew she had her reasons, so he did not contradict her. He simply nodded and said,

“That’s right. I am the proprietor here, Lu Chenyuan.”

The woman scrutinized him, noting his slender frame and rough homespun attire, bloodstains still visible on his chest. Though his demeanor was composed, he hardly looked the part of an innkeeper.

Her brows knitted in skepticism, yet she did not pursue the matter further. Instead, she said,

“Your inn harbors hidden evil, resentment soaring to the heavens. My senior and I have come to dispel this foulness. The matter is grave, not only affecting your business, but your very lives. It must not be ignored.”

Lu Chenyuan understood at once—her so-called “evil spirit” referred to the doll he carried. Since it was now bound to him, entrusted by Qian Dahai in his final moments, he could not hand it over lightly.

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Moreover, the origins of these two strangers were unclear, and they seemed far from benevolent. Lu Chenyuan had already made up his mind, so he replied,

“Resentment? I haven’t noticed any. Oh, perhaps some lingers from the death a few days ago—it will dissipate soon enough. Thank you for your concern.”

“Who died?” the woman pressed.

“The former proprietor.”

It was Shangguan Chuci who answered, snapping her folding fan shut with a playful tap to her palm, her smile ambiguous.

“As for how it happened, that’s a private matter of our inn. The martial world has its own rules—best not to ask what shouldn’t be asked.”

Her words were polite, but the undertone was clear: she was ushering them out.

The man scoffed coldly and stepped forward.

“Sister, why waste words? Let’s just search the place. Whether it’s here or not, we’ll see for ourselves.”

At his words, Han Lin and the guards reached for their sword hilts, tension in the hall mounting to a breaking point.

Just then, the silent young monk suddenly intoned a Buddhist blessing:

“Amitabha. Good sirs, your actions may be ill-advised. Though your intentions to uphold the Dao and banish evil are commendable, one must still observe proper decorum.”

The woman pondered for a moment, then shook her head at the man and turned again to Lu Chenyuan.

“Are there any vacant rooms in your inn?”

“None.”

“None.”

Lu Chenyuan and Shangguan Chuci answered in unison, their reply firm and final.

The woman showed no surprise, only nodded lightly and said to the man,

“Brother, let’s go.”

The man’s face betrayed his unwillingness. He lowered his voice,

“Sister, our time is running out…”

She replied,

“There are always ways. The undercurrents in Zhenhaichuan are dangerous for others, but for us, they may present an opportunity.”

The man nodded reluctantly, shooting Lu Chenyuan a venomous glare before he and the woman turned to leave.

Only the young monk remained in the hall.

He saw Lu Chenyuan and Shangguan Chuci looking at him with an odd expression, clearly wondering,

“They’ve gone—why are you still here?”

The monk smiled, pressed his palms together, and bowed to them.

“Please don’t misunderstand. I am Zhi Fei from Yuntai Temple. I met those two by chance and simply traveled with them for convenience.”

“My journey down the mountain is neither to vanquish evil nor to uphold the Dao. I’ve heard the decadal tides here are approaching, and my master sent me to seek my fate and observe the tide.”

He paused, his face tinged with embarrassment.

“However, the rooms at the Tide Pavilion are far too expensive for a poor monk like me. Might the two of you grant me some kindness?”

Lu Chenyuan saw his clear gaze and sincere manner, so different from the previous two. Most of his caution faded.

“There is still one vacant room.”

The young monk’s face lit up with gratitude, and he pressed his palms together, bowing repeatedly.

“Thank you, benefactor, thank you.”

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Lu Chenyuan was about to personally show the young monk upstairs, but as he turned, he felt his sleeve gently tugged.

Glancing back, he saw Shangguan Chuci standing gracefully beside him, the bone of her white jade folding fan resting lightly on his arm, her eyes smiling mischievously.

“Such mundane matters as welcoming guests and showing them to their rooms are best left to the staff. Why trouble our illustrious proprietor with this?”

Wang Ergou, quick-witted, immediately stepped forward, bowing to the monk with a broad smile.

“Master Chu is right. Little monk, please follow me.”

The monk Zhi Fei, courteous as ever, bowed to Lu Chenyuan and Shangguan Chuci and followed Wang Ergou.

Once the two disappeared around the staircase, Lu Chenyuan turned, his eyes flickering.

“Do you think those two will truly let the matter rest?”

Shangguan Chuci flicked her jade fan, gazing through the window at the bustling street.

“It’s hard to say. That woman is shrewd, methodical in her actions. Her senior, on the other hand, is impatient and reckless.”

“They left empty-handed—they won’t be satisfied. I suspect their departure is only temporary. Sooner or later, they’ll return.”

Lu Chenyuan said, “They’re highly suspicious. They themselves are so heavily Dao-transformed, yet insist on meddling in others’ affairs…”

“Are all cultivators of the Nine Provinces Immortal Sect so noble?”

“You’re not wrong, Brother Lu. I too find them questionable. People rarely offer unsolicited help without ulterior motives. The way we handled them was wise.”

Shangguan Chuci paused, then turned her bright gaze upon the young man.

“Enough about them. The way you soothed that evil object—will it still work?”

Lu Chenyuan reached into his breast and pressed lightly. The doll lay quietly, its earlier restless, chilling aura now greatly subdued.

“It seems to work. It’s much calmer now.”

“That’s good.”

Shangguan Chuci’s expression softened, though her brows still furrowed slightly.

“However, if those two return, they’ll be even more cautious. Ordinary tricks won’t fool them.”

“In that case, Brother Lu, you’ll have to spend tonight carefully appeasing it. Let’s hope this method can mask its resentment, so when they return, they’ll find nothing amiss.”

Lu Chenyuan nodded.

“You’re absolutely right, Master Chu—I understand.”

Though he spoke thus, he couldn’t help but smile bitterly inside.

Whether offering blood or caressing its head, the rituals to soothe the doll were deeply unsettling. If anyone saw, he’d be branded a heretic on the spot.

After all, how many could discern right from wrong as Shangguan Chuci did?

Fortunately, the woodshed was secluded enough. So long as he was careful, there should be no trouble.