Chapter Thirty-Eight: The Dispute

Within the hall, the stench of blood still hung heavy in the air. Qian Dahai’s body was yet warm, lying amidst the wreckage and chaos. The guests of the inn, emboldened by the sudden quiet, timidly craned their necks from behind doors. But at the sight of the corpse sprawled across the main hall—blood and flesh strewn everywhere—their courage failed them, and they quickly withdrew.

Lu Chenyuan slowly straightened, gazing down at Qian Dahai’s lifeless, unyielding face. A tumult of emotions churned in his chest, a bitterness that defied words.

At that moment, Shangguan Chuci descended gracefully from the second floor, Han Lin and the others following close behind, their weapons now sheathed, their faces grave.

Drawing near, Shangguan Chuci looked at Lu Chenyuan, her bright eyes filled with rare admiration. She smiled and said, “Brother Lu, you truly kept your strength concealed. In the blink of an eye, you shattered the deadly momentum of that Lighter of the Mind Mirror Realm. Such courage and decisiveness—I am sincerely impressed.”

Beside her, the hot-tempered Xiahou Pan nodded in heartfelt agreement, clasping his fists in salute. “Indeed! Brother Lu, that strike of yours was like nothing I’ve ever seen—astounding in its precision! Had you not intervened, once Qian Dahai fell completely, our troubles would have only begun.”

The other guards also cast Lu Chenyuan looks that ranged from curiosity to awe. They did not understand how the young man had managed such a feat, only that he had accomplished what even Shen Guizhou of the Watching Waves Realm could not.

Yet Lu Chenyuan seemed deaf to their praise. Ignoring the accolades, he slowly lifted his head and looked steadily at Shangguan Chuci, his words measured and cold:

“Was it you who set Qian Dahai’s trap?”

The air around them froze instantly. The admiration and relief on Xiahou Pan and the others’ faces stiffened into unease. For a moment, no one knew how to respond.

Han Lin, ever quick-witted, noticed that Shen Guizhou had vanished at the first sign of trouble and sensed that something was amiss between the two before him. He shot a glance at his companions and said in a low voice, “The matter here is finished, but the cultists may have left allies behind. Let’s search the inn and see if Qian Dahai left any clues.”

With that, he led the others away, discreetly vacating the center of the hall and leaving the youth and the white-robed gentleman alone.

Shangguan Chuci, hearing Lu Chenyuan’s question, knew at once that he was not here in friendship. Shen Guizhou’s warning had come true. She sighed inwardly, coughed lightly, and with a forthright nod, folding her white jade fan, said, “Yes.”

She saw the blood drain further from Lu Chenyuan’s already pale face, as if a layer of frost had settled over it.

Taking a deep breath, Shangguan Chuci spoke solemnly, “Brother Lu, let me explain. Qian Dahai was the local leader of the Turbid Stream cult. The traveling merchants who have vanished from this inn of late—all fell victim to his hand. And his ultimate target was you. To strip me of my allies, he even poisoned the food and wine, hoping to wipe out Han Lin and the others at a stroke—”

“So what?” Lu Chenyuan cut her off, his tone icy.

“You foresaw he would strike, foresaw the poison, foresaw his desperation. But did you ever foresee that I once regarded him as an elder?”

He stepped forward, his gaze like a blade, piercing to the heart of Shangguan Chuci. “Qian Dahai committed countless evils, and you acted for justice. But what of me, Lu Chenyuan? Am I just a pawn for you to cast aside at will, to be used and discarded as you please?”

He could not help but recall the day she had, with a casual air, devised a cruel scheme to leave a local bully begging for death. The memory chilled him further.

“Shangguan Chuci, today I see you clearly. Yours is a heart of calculation, weighing gain and loss, stopping at nothing to achieve your ends!”

Each word struck home.

Shangguan Chuci felt as if she had been dealt a heavy blow. The mischievous light that usually played in her eyes was clouded now by mist. A swell of grievance and anger rose within her as she fixed her gaze on Lu Chenyuan.

“Many innocents died in this inn, all because of Qian Dahai. Even if I lured him to his doom—so what? Even if I rid the world of evil by any means—what of it?”

Her eyes shimmered, and she bit her lip, each word a retort. “And you, Lu Chenyuan—what are you to me? Why should I care about your feelings?”

Her words fell, and the entire inn was so silent that a pin could be heard dropping.

Lu Chenyuan trembled, unable to reply. He looked at her reddened eyes, and the anger in his heart faded—leaving only a hollow confusion.

No sooner had Shangguan Chuci spoken than she regretted it. She knew she had gone too far, wounding the youth before her. Yet her pride would not allow her to soften her words.

So the two stood locked in silence—one with head bowed, the other turning away—neither willing to meet the other’s eyes.

In the end, it was Shangguan Chuci who yielded first. She sighed softly, her former imperiousness ebbing away, her voice low and tinged with remorse and weariness.

“I’m sorry. My words just now were too harsh.”

She paused before continuing, “In truth, I had intended to lay everything before you and explain it all. But when I went to seek you today, you had already left the inn.”

Lu Chenyuan’s heart skipped a beat at this. He recalled that he had indeed gone out alone that day, tracking a group of cultists. By the time he returned, things had come to this.

For reasons he could not name, he believed her—believed he had simply missed the moment.

With this realization, his face flushed, and he felt a pang of regret and shame. He silently rebuked himself for his earlier, harsh words. Yet, as a young man, he could not bring himself to utter even a single word of apology.

As he stood, caught in this awkward impasse, a soft laugh rang out from across the hall.

He looked up in surprise to see Shangguan Chuci, who had at some point turned back to face him, a sly smile breaking through the redness in her eyes.

“What are you laughing at?” Lu Chenyuan asked, puzzled.

Shangguan Chuci tapped her white jade fan lightly in her palm and replied languidly, “I’m laughing because, between Qian Dahai and me, you ultimately chose to trust me.”

“Manager Qian treated you well enough, yet in his final moments, you didn’t hesitate to turn against him. This trust—you have satisfied me.”

Lu Chenyuan, exposed in his heart, flushed scarlet and could only protest, “Who—who trusts you? I simply saw the evil on him—it was obvious he was no good!”

Shangguan Chuci’s eyes sparkled with even more mirth. She sighed dramatically, “Brother Lu, you may not know, but acting the tsundere is out of fashion these days.”

Lu Chenyuan frowned, baffled by her odd choice of words. “Tsundere? What does that mean?”

Shangguan Chuci merely smiled and did not answer. Instead, she glanced at the vase set before the counter.

“Didn’t Qian Dahai just now entrust the secret of the vase to you? Compared to these trivial matters, isn’t that secret more pressing?”

“In fact, I’ve already examined that vase—found nothing inside, and thought it ordinary. Who would have guessed it truly held a hidden mystery?”

Lu Chenyuan couldn’t help but look toward the vase himself. That Shangguan Chuci had already investigated it was a surprise, but on second thought, it was entirely in keeping with her character.

He nodded, his expression earnest. “You are right, Lord Chu. I too want to know what secret lies within.”