Chapter One Hundred Ten: Why?

At this hour, those who come here are naturally not strangers to the place, especially since the voice sounded heavy and tired—clearly the innkeeper, without a doubt. Judging by the time, he had arrived right on schedule. After such a long journey, a hunger began to gnaw at their stomachs. As the footsteps drew nearer, especially when the door was pushed open, the aroma of food wafted in on the breeze, heightening that sensation even more. Their throats and stomachs even stirred slightly.

“Sorry to keep you two waiting. This is our inn’s signature dish. Please enjoy!” When a person has performed a task many times, every movement becomes smooth and flawless. The innkeeper was no exception—serving dishes and arranging plates with seamless grace. Not a single drop of soup spilled from the trays he carried. After setting everything down, he poured two cups of wine as if by instinct, then smiled warmly as he spoke.

They nodded lightly in response. Although this was a modest inn, the dishes were prepared with a classic touch that made one almost unable to resist. Naturally, they didn’t wish to cause much trouble for the innkeeper. Perhaps, like them, he also preferred not to linger here. For wanderers like them, backed by the power of the Prince of Qi’s Mansion, this inn was undoubtedly a good business, but it bore little significance for the innkeeper personally. Wanderers rarely part with tips easily, and such earnings were often a pleasant windfall.

“Brother Innkeeper, I have a question for you,” Han Tanyi called back as the innkeeper was about to leave the room. Though somewhat reluctant, his smile remained sincere—this was his livelihood, after all. “Sir, whatever you need, just say it. If I know, I will tell you everything!”

“It’s nothing major. I just want to ask about this so-called Prince of Qi—what kind of person is he? Why would he host wanderers like us without reason? And isn’t he afraid that some petty scoundrels might use the wanderers’ name to freeload here?” These questions reflected Han Tanyi’s inner thoughts. He had seen Xiao Jinghao only once, a fleeting encounter, and knew little of this court official. Everyone acts with purpose; nothing is done without reason. The rest of his words were mere embellishment to mask his true intent.

“Well…” The innkeeper, of course, could not provide a clear answer to such matters, but since the question came from a fellow Qingzhou resident, his interest sparked. He turned back with a slight pause, his eyes shining with a peculiar earnestness. “His Highness the Prince of Qi has long held great respect for wanderers. Perhaps that is why he spends his own fortune to entertain you. For the Prince’s Mansion, it’s nothing significant. Three years ago, at the martial arts assembly, His Highness even personally went to Xingyang as a witness. As for those who might try to freeload—if they even have the intention, they lack the courage. Qingzhou is full of guards and spies from the Prince’s Mansion; they know everything going on. If they catch wind of anyone causing trouble, those days will be over quickly.”

By the end of his words, the innkeeper’s expression grew noticeably tense, his movements more cautious. He raised a hand subtly to shield his face, as if wary of some unseen danger. This furtive gesture seemed to lend more credibility to his words. Nearby were surely those guards and spies he spoke of.

Han Tanyi did not doubt the innkeeper outright, but he did not fully trust him either. Xiao Jinghao was a different kind of man from wealthy gentry or local aristocrats, who might act on impulse or whim. Xiao Jinghao would not do so lightly. But what exactly lay behind his actions—Han Tanyi did not know. For now, he accepted the explanation that it was out of respect. Suddenly, a realization struck him: ever since crossing into Qingzhou, he had felt someone tailing him. Now it seemed clear—that must be the spies the innkeeper mentioned. His movements were already under the Prince’s Mansion’s watchful eyes. Whether they had recognized him, Han Tanyi could not say. The odds were probably low. After all, he had come from the northern deserts, far from Shuozhou’s usual ways, and his habits did not reveal the customs of the Central Plains. That alone would deter suspicion.

“Looks like my sister and I have truly met a benefactor on this journey,” Han Tanyi said with a smile. “Alright, Brother Innkeeper, you should get back to your work. We don’t need you to look after us here—we can manage ourselves. No need to trouble you further.” At this point, Han Tanyi felt he had gleaned all he could. Pressing the matter any further would be pointless, and risked revealing some slip of the tongue that could arouse suspicion. Better to send the innkeeper on his way.

Speaking kindly to avoid offense was always wise. Whatever the task, lowering one’s posture was advantageous. The innkeeper, heartened by their politeness, left happily. Soon, the sound of footsteps descending the stairs echoed clearly, signaling he had returned to the main hall. At that moment, Shui Linglong, who had remained silent until now, spoke softly: “Are you worried about something? Could it be that you suspect some problem with Xiao Jinghao, the Prince of Qi?”

“I can’t say for certain.” Perhaps from talking too much, Han Tanyi felt a dryness in his throat. His hand reached naturally for the wine on the table, but stopped abruptly at Shui Linglong’s question, his expression growing serious as if deep in thought. “I just feel someone like Xiao Jinghao wouldn’t act this way without reason. There must be some hidden truth behind it all. By the way, your Blue Lotus Sect is so powerful—haven’t you found any clues?”

The weight of his words was profound. To guess the intentions of a familiar person without cause was never easy. Like the sudden sword thrust of the celestial wind, Han Tanyi had never expected it. Xiao Jinghao was a stranger to him; if he could have guessed such things easily, it would be like finding a needle in a haystack. This young man’s mind was undoubtedly deep. Suddenly, his eyes lingered on Shui Linglong with a hint of hope.

“That…” She had been the one asking questions, but now found herself the one questioned. Even with her quick wit, she had no definite answer. Moreover, what she knew was little different from Han Tanyi’s understanding. Her silent thoughts whispered, *What exactly does he want? Could it be that he is after the treasure guarded by the Blue Lotus Sect? But what meaning would that have for him? Wanderers might crave martial secrets, some interest in the mysteries within the Iron Box—but he is a man of the temple. Why would he?*

Reaching this point in her pondering, Shui Linglong found no clear answer. These matters were secrets few in the martial world knew. Though the Blue Lotus Sect guarded the Iron Box, only a handful of its elders were aware of its existence. And of those, she alone knew its location. No—there was one other. Years ago, in a youthful indiscretion, she had confided this secret to a man. That reckless act had sparked the Three Wolves War sixteen years ago, nearly leading to the sect’s destruction. But that was long past; the man had died in that battle. She could think of no other possibility. Yet even so, past lessons taught her to keep such matters buried deep. If she spoke too freely, would this man turn out like Shao Donghua? Shui Linglong was uncertain. Without certainty, it was better to remain silent.

Thus, she masked her unease and replied cautiously, “It’s not that simple. The Blue Lotus Sect’s strength is far from what it once was; otherwise, it wouldn’t have taken three years to find you. Besides, the martial world of the Central Plains now views us as public enemies. We’re already restraining ourselves—why risk stirring trouble for someone unrelated? Besides, my mother has her own plans. As her daughter, I have no right to interfere.”