Chapter Sixteen: The Tea Pavilion

There was nothing particularly remarkable, at least that was how it seemed to her. Those two were certainly not people of the martial world, for they lacked the distinctive air of wanderers and adventurers. They simply sat facing each other, wisps of steam rising from their teapot, drifting gently upward and lending a slight haze to the scene. Qiu Wan’er’s gaze had no intention of lingering on them; after all, drinking tea was merely to quench her thirst, a matter to be dealt with swiftly so she could hurry on her way.

“I wonder why the innkeeper drove us all out today. He’s never done anything like this before. What could possibly be the reason?” Suddenly a voice sounded, unrelated to Qiu Wan’er, and she had no desire to interfere. Yet, being so close, she could not help but overhear. From that glance just now, she could tell who was speaking—a man of some age, perhaps forty or fifty, and apart from the one sitting directly across from her, there were no others who fit the description. Of course, though it was none of her concern, sitting here drinking tea and hearing a story was no great matter. People are invariably curious, and she was no exception. As expected, just as the middle-aged man finished speaking, a slightly younger voice responded, “Yes, I don’t understand it either. I haven’t worked at the inn very long, but the innkeeper was never stingy with me. If he cared about money, there’d be no reason to drive all four of us out and even give us ten taels of silver for travel expenses. There’s something strange about all this.”

Words like “inn,” “innkeeper,” and “driven out” caught her ear. Sha Wan’er was not worldly, but she was no fool either. Last night she had gone to the Qilian Inn, feeling a bit dazed at the time and not paying much attention. But now, hearing these men discuss it, a thought suddenly crossed her mind. She turned quickly toward the four of them and asked in a low voice, “May I ask, are you speaking of the Qilian Inn within Jinjiang City?”

The abruptness of her question startled the young man, who glanced sideways at her, his eyes flashing with a hint of surprise. But it was only natural—since he had worked in an inn, he would have such concerns. Sha Wan’er’s attire was far from ordinary; she looked every inch a woman of the martial world. The youth, however, responded swiftly, making a gesture of respect, his face breaking into a slight smile. “Indeed, we were all staff at the Qilian Inn. Miss, if my memory serves, you visited our inn about half a month ago?”

With that, Sha Wan’er recalled the details. At the time, they had all worn distinctive uniforms, quite different from the ordinary clothing they wore now. Moreover, it had been her first journey down the mountain, and curiosity for everything was keen. She hadn’t paid much attention to the servers and cleaners, but now, with the mention, she remembered. She returned the youth’s gesture, and the two of them exchanged respectful bows, a scene that would have made Han Tan Yi burst into laughter had he been present.

“May I ask, what happened? Last night, when I went to the inn, not a soul was there, yet a large water jar was set in the middle of the hall.” The memory was clear. Inns might have all sorts of objects, usually for fortune or luck, but placing a water jar in the center of the hall was rare. The hall was not large to begin with, and the jar took up the space awkwardly, making it feel cramped. Never mind the layout—it was a major breach of etiquette for an inn. Yet it happened. Clearly, none of the men could explain it, and silence hung over them. After a moment, the middle-aged man spoke, perhaps guessing, his tone uncertain. “We don’t know. We left in the afternoon. I remember the innkeeper received a letter, and his expression changed—he looked very grave. Then he sent us away. Hearing what you say, perhaps something happened in the inn, otherwise he wouldn’t have acted so.”

He fell silent, clearly someone who had worked at the inn for a long time. It’s true, wherever one works, if the routine persists long enough, it’s hard to let go, and sometimes a hint of melancholy seeps in. The youth, by contrast, was more at ease, having no deep attachment and thus more easily freed from it.

At that moment, Sha Wan’er suddenly grew anxious. Along her journey, she had felt some resentment toward her senior brother, but now worry overwhelmed all else. If what these men said was true, then—

She dared not think further. The mind, when it runs wild, can imagine anything. Qiu Wan’er was no exception; she felt her senior brother might never have returned to Qilian Mountain, that something unexpected had happened. In an instant, countless fearful scenarios flashed through her mind. She stood abruptly, placed the silver on the table, and called loudly, “Shopkeeper, the tea money is here on the table, and theirs is on me as well!”

No sooner had she spoken than she sprang up, her toes lightly tapping the stone ground as she dashed several yards away in a blink, heading swiftly toward Qilian. Her speed left the three in the tea shed staring in astonishment, especially the youth, whose eyes brimmed with envy, as if to say, “If only I had such skill!” But it was not his fate; beyond that dazed gaze, he could think of nothing to change his lot.

But it was nothing bad, at least he had saved a bit on the tea. Life for ordinary folk was nothing like that of officials and wealthy merchants; saving a little was always good. The bit of silver left was enough for several more pots of tea. For them, mere commoners, whatever happened in the martial world was of little concern. The tea shop owner was well satisfied; if he could meet a couple of such generous patrons each day, his business would undoubtedly flourish.

Fortunately, this tea house lay at the foot of Qilian Mountain, only a few leagues from the main peak. With Sha Wan’er’s swift pace, she would reach Qilian within an hour or two. Her heart was troubled, and she longed to understand as soon as possible. As she ran, her face was tense and grave, lips moving as she muttered, “Senior brother, you must not be in any danger. I was only teasing you. As long as you’re safe, I won’t care about those little grievances. Love whomever you wish, your junior sister won’t be jealous, she’ll stand far off, just watching you is enough.”

Alas, Han Tan Yi would never hear such words. If he did, who knows what he would think—perhaps he’d feel awkward. At this moment, he lay quietly on the bed, but sleep eluded him, for his mind was too troubled. Yet most of all, he was not concerned with why he was here, nor what had happened in that missing stretch of time, but with Shui Linglong’s face. Though he tried desperately to avoid thinking of her, he could not escape. Even when he closed his eyes intentionally, she would come unbidden to his mind.

“What is wrong with me, what’s happening?” Han Tan Yi lightly struck his forehead with his fist, not daring to use too much force—no one would be so foolish. Of course, there was still one secret method left: to leave here as quickly as possible. With that thought, he tried to move, but suddenly his thigh throbbed with pain and a tingling numbness, making it difficult even to stand, much less escape. There was no need to guess—it was clear someone had used some means against him. As for their purpose, he could not discern. The only thing certain was that his life was not in immediate danger, but that was only for now. With an organization like the Blue Lotus Sect, no one could predict whether its members would suddenly change their minds, especially Water Lotus, whose face still lay hidden beneath a veil, giving the young man an unsettling sense of mystery—impossible to read, impossible to fathom, like an enigma.