Chapter Twenty-Eight: Undercurrents Unceasing

Two more days passed.

In a quiet corner by the window, Shangguan Chuci sat with effortless grace. Before her were a plate of delicate crab soup dumplings and a bowl of light fish porridge, yet she did not touch her chopsticks. Instead, with slender jade-like fingers, she meticulously peeled open a newly brewed cup of pre-rain Dragon Well tea.

Three steps behind her stood a burly man—one of the four so-called “wandering cultivators from overseas.” He stood with his back to the window, effectively shielding Shangguan Chuci from the prying eyes within the hall. His words were pressed so low that only one with exceptional inner strength could make them out:

“Princess, in the past two days, three more groups have come probing. Last night, someone even resorted to cheap tricks, using knockout incense. We managed to startle them off, but if this continues, those wolves lurking in the shadows may soon lose patience. When they finally swarm, the situation will be hard to control.”

Shangguan Chuci responded with a soft hum, gently blowing on the unfurling tea leaves without lifting her head. She spoke lightly, “No more waiting. Today is the day.”

The man bowed slightly before fading back into the bustling crowd.

…

During these two days, though Lu Chenyuan was still preoccupied, he no longer moved about like the walking dead. He continued to greet and see off guests in the inn’s main hall, cleaning tables and sweeping the floor, but his mindset had changed entirely from the days before.

Sometimes, passing through the rear courtyard, he would catch sight of the crooked old locust tree and feel a pang within. In a daze, he would almost see that figure in green again, lounging against a branch, chin propped in one hand and a bright red wine gourd in the other, flashing a roguish smile his way.

He would stand still, waiting for the vision to fade before shaking his head, forcing down the knot in his chest.

Lu Chenyuan understood clearly what he must do now. The most pressing thing was to survive.

Though the surface of the Tidal Inn appeared calm, who could say how many man-eating monsters lurked beneath? Those mysterious evil cultivators, that ominous celadon vase, Qian Dahai…

Who was to say their next target wouldn’t be himself?

To simply leave? The thought had crossed his mind. A wise man does not stand under a crumbling wall—he knew that well enough. Yet when he thought of his master’s departure—perhaps tied by a thousand invisible threads to this very maelstrom—he found himself unable, unwilling, to just walk away.

Unless he saw for himself what lay hidden beneath these waters, he would never find peace.

As for Shangguan Chuci—her mind was deep, her heart cold, her means ruthless. To work with her was like bargaining with a tiger for its skin…

But as the words “heart cold” crossed his mind, he couldn’t help but recall her offering him a steamed bun, the solitary grace she revealed at the Taibai Restaurant, the way she almost teared up by the sea over his offhand mention of “onions”…

Was she truly a cold-hearted person?

—

Lu Chenyuan had no answer. He only knew that her analogy of “butcher and fattened sheep” had set all his inner alarms ringing, and cast even greater suspicion upon the innkeeper, Qian Dahai.

But leaving aside Shangguan Chuci—for the days to come, he had made plans in his heart.

The short-term plan was to uncover the truth behind the Tidal Inn and see Qian Dahai’s true colors. In the long run, he needed to find his master and demand answers.

As for that summons from the depths of the Eastern Sea—was it a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, or a fatal curse? Only by taking each step forward could he hope to find out.

Lu Chenyuan wrung a cloth dry over a basin. When he raised his head again, his gaze was clear and resolute.

…

Returning alone to her room, Shangguan Chuci was soon joined by Shen Guizhou, the man in dark robes, who emerged as silently as a shadow from the corner.

He hesitated briefly before finally speaking, his voice steady, “Princess, this plan seems unwise.”

“Oh?” Shangguan Chuci flicked open her folding fan with interest. “Uncle Shen, what gives you pause?”

Shen Guizhou replied, “Qian Dahai has shown considerable favor to Young Master Lu. Whatever his intentions, the kindness is real. Your current plan, though clever, lacks Lu’s knowledge. If things go awry, it may turn him against you.”

She paused in her fanning, then replied, “I’ve already hinted to him that Qian Dahai bears ill intent. With his intelligence, he’s surely on guard.”

Shen Guizhou shook his head gently and sighed, “Princess, forgive an old servant’s candor. Since you value Young Master Lu, there’s no need to take this risk.”

“The human heart is subtle; once a rift forms between people, a lifetime may not be enough to mend it.”

“Who—who says I value him…” Shangguan Chuci’s cheeks tinged with red. She tapped her white jade fan lightly against her palm, protesting with her words, but the flicker in her eyes betrayed her; she had taken Shen Guizhou’s advice to heart.

She stood by the window in silence for a moment, finally conceding to herself that Shen Guizhou was right. She had indeed been too hasty.

Still, she had already sent A-Si to summon Qian Dahai upstairs; she could not back out at this point…

She resolved inwardly, “Once Qian Dahai leaves, I’ll speak plainly with Lu Chenyuan.”

…

By afternoon, business in the inn had quieted.

Qian Dahai was busy behind the counter, fingers flying over an abacus, when one of Shangguan Chuci’s guards descended the stairs and approached him with an anxious look.

“Manager Qian, there’s been a small mishap upstairs. Would you please come up for a moment?”

Qian Dahai noted the man’s urgency and, though inwardly wary, masked his thoughts with a smile, pushing aside the abacus. “No need to worry, sir. Is something amiss with the room?”

The man glanced around to ensure no one was watching before leaning in and lowering his voice.

“To be frank, my young master brought with him a jade piece called a Warm Fragrance Pendant—an heirloom, most delicate. It must be nourished day and night with a specific agarwood, never to be left unattended. Just now, my master found his supply exhausted; the pendant will soon lose its spirit.”

He paused, face earnest. “My master recalls that your main hall is often filled with a refined incense, quite similar to what the pendant requires. He asked me to request, in the strictest confidence, to purchase some from you at a handsome price. The matter is sensitive and requires your discretion. Please, would you bring the incense up so my master can inspect it himself? You will not be shortchanged.”

At this, Qian Dahai’s round face broke into a broad grin. The incense in his hall was nothing but ordinary calming herbs, meant only for a touch of tranquility. Hardly a rare treasure.

Yet, seeing the other speak so seriously, and mention a “family heirloom,” he concluded: “This Master Chu is truly a sheltered rich boy—making such a fuss over a few coppers’ worth of incense. Still, a fat sheep that walks through the door deserves to be sheared.”

Though he thought this, he replied with effusive politeness, “Of course, of course! The young master’s treasure is important indeed! I’ll fetch the incense cakes now and bring them up for his inspection!”

He retrieved a small brocade box from a hidden compartment beneath the counter, rounded the counter, and led the man up the stairs himself.

At the corner of the second floor, the man paused and pointed to a guest room at the end of the corridor. “My young master awaits you there.”

Qian Dahai nodded and stepped forward—only to hear, from the room beside him, the muffled sounds of a heated argument.

The door was slightly ajar, not fully closed, and voices spilled out through the gap.

“…Big Brother, that brat, Lu Chenyuan—he’s just a mortal. Is he really worth all this effort?”

Qian Dahai froze, unable to take another step.

His perpetually narrowed eyes opened a fraction, a cold gleam flashing within.

He held his breath, quietly pressing himself to the half-open door, ear to the crack, gathering his spiritual energy to eavesdrop clearly on the plotting within.

“You don’t understand! His master just left; now’s the perfect time to strike! I’m sure he’s hiding some great treasure…”

“But… there are many eyes in this inn. If something goes wrong—”

“What’s there to fear? Tonight, at the third watch, we move! First, we’ll use knockout incense…”