Chapter Forty-Two: The Innkeeper's Wife

The inn was built along the river, and its name was River’s Repute. The name suited its surroundings—arched bridges, flowing waters, deep and ancient courtyards, and the steady stream of merchants who often stopped here on their journeys.

Morning.

Shen Yu drew a deep breath beside the courtyard well, his complexion no longer as pale as it had been. Now he had stepped into the third realm of cultivation, the Golden Core stage; his ability to restore spiritual power had multiplied several times. With just one night, the damaged meridians within his body had healed, and his spiritual energy had recovered to nearly seventy or eighty percent.

Yu Wenwen was descending the stairs, her steps slow and measured.

Shen Yu spoke, “Isn’t the matter of the Southern Barbarian Demon Domain urgent?”

“Not urgent. There’s something else far more pressing,” Yu Wenwen replied coolly. The two left the courtyard and sat at a table on the first floor of the inn. Along the way, Yu Wenwen’s beauty drew many glances, but fortunately, it was still early, and few people were in the main hall.

Yu Wenwen poured a cup of tea with her slender hand and said, “You were born in South River City, so you must be familiar with this inn. Do you know who owns it?”

Shen Yu thought for a moment. “There’s only one proprietress, Liu Yiyi. I saw her once when I was a child.”

“This person’s origins are shrouded in mystery. We’ve investigated her for a long time and still know nothing of her background. The Hall of Pure Law suspects that the death of Yang Kaitai, the elder who passed on teachings at Sitting Forget Peak, is connected to her. Most likely, they both hail from the Land of Thousand Streams.”

Yu Wenwen spoke without emotion, “This is the second reason I came to South River City. If it’s true, the Hall of Pure Law has ordered me to kill her without hesitation.”

The Land of Thousand Streams—a place most despised on the Spirit Wilderness Continent. There, murderers and sinister figures thrived, often targeting young disciples of sacred grounds with deadly ambushes.

Shen Yu hadn’t expected that Yang Kaitai, who had tried to assassinate him at Treasure Cliff, would also be from the Land of Thousand Streams. As for the fact that Yang had died by Shen Yu’s hand, that was not something worth mentioning.

Shen Yu glanced around. “Is it wise to discuss such secret matters here?”

Yu Wenwen shook her head, “Since I am here, there’s nowhere for them to run.”

Whether they could escape was irrelevant; what mattered was whether this approach was too conspicuous. Shen Yu wished to remind her, but recalling the sword immortal’s temperament, he held his tongue.

“Waiter.”

Shen Yu suddenly called out.

At the counter, a young man with a towel draped over his left shoulder turned his head at the summons. When he saw Yu Wenwen, his eyes lit up, and he hurried over with a fawning smile. “What can I do for you, esteemed guests?”

Shen Yu said, “I wish to see your proprietress.”

The waiter, quick-witted, hesitated. “The proprietress never meets with guests.”

Shen Yu took a silver ingot from his sleeve and tossed it over.

The waiter inspected it, confirmed it was genuine government silver from the Great Li Dynasty, and grinned. “I’ll take you to her room, but whether she’ll meet you, I can’t guarantee.”

Shen Yu stood and said, “Lead the way.”

The waiter trotted ahead, bowing and scraping, his manner obsequious.

They reached the rear courtyard of the inn. Unlike the lively front, here a broad pool lay still, flanked by willows.

The waiter led them, keeping a respectful distance ahead. Shen Yu and Yu Wenwen walked side by side beneath the covered walkway.

Yu Wenwen whispered, “Are we simply seeking her out directly?”

Shen Yu replied, “Meet her once, and we’ll know the answer. There’s no need for complications.”

Yu Wenwen frowned, “It seems you already know the answer?”

“Ten years ago, her cultivation was around the Golden Core stage, with mediocre talent. Now, she’s barely entered the True Form realm. She can’t defeat you.” Shen Yu continued, “If the Hall’s intelligence is accurate, she is almost certainly from the Land of Thousand Streams.”

Yu Wenwen was stunned.

Before coming to South River City, the Hall of Pure Law had meticulously documented Liu Yiyi’s information, cultivation, and activities over the years. She hadn’t expected Shen Yu’s deductions to align so closely with the Hall’s decade-long investigations.

Yu Wenwen asked in amazement, “How did you know all this?”

Shen Yu replied calmly, “The Shen family is one of the prominent households in South River City. I was born there, and as a child, I visited this place often. Naturally, I noticed that she was a cultivator.”

Yu Wenwen gazed at Shen Yu. She had deliberately avoided discussing the Shen family, but the man before her was so frank, his expression utterly unmoved.

Yu Wenwen pondered. “How old were you then? You could discern her concealed cultivation?”

Shen Yu was silent for a moment. “Perhaps I possess a rather special talent.”

A thousand steps later, the waiter stopped.

Shen Yu looked up. At the end of the covered walkway, a woman was feeding fish in the pond.

She was tall and voluptuous, her mature figure draped in pale robes worn carelessly, revealing fair arms and legs, lips red as wine, every gesture suffused with alluring charm.

The waiter could not tear his gaze away from her.

“What brings you two to see me so early?” Liu Yiyi’s voice was sweet and seductive.

Yu Wenwen said, “No need to ask. As expected, you are from that place.”

Shen Yu looked toward the pavilion. “Then shall we kill her?”

Yu Wenwen glanced at him. “You seem reluctant?”

Shen Yu replied, “Not really. I just want to ask a question.”

“Fine. Ask.” Yu Wenwen’s expression was cold; she said no more.

Liu Yiyi had been proprietress here for more than ten years and had never suffered such humiliation, yet she was strangely calm.

The waiter, realizing the gravity of their conversation, looked utterly shocked.

Shen Yu stepped into the pavilion. “Does the Land of Thousand Streams have the reputation of four cardinal extremes—east, south, west, north?”

Liu Yiyi looked at him, perplexed and innocent. “What are you talking about? I don’t understand.”

Shen Yu pondered for a moment and then said with regret, “It seems you’re just a minor figure from the Land of Thousand Streams. With such a low cultivation, I expected too much.”

Shen Yu had heard of this infamous dark force within the Daoist sects, and was curious. Three thousand years ago, in his previous life, there had been a similar place—different name, but equally elusive and mysterious in its ways.

He even suspected that one of the three immortal artifacts intended for his ascension belonged to someone from that enigmatic organization.

So today, accompanying Yu Wenwen to meet this spy from the Land of Thousand Streams, he thought he might glean a clue. But now, seeing she was but an abandoned pawn, he lost interest.

Shen Yu stepped back. “I’ve finished asking.”

He disliked trouble, and Yu Wenwen even more so.

No sooner had he finished speaking than a cold sword light flashed and vanished.

In the next instant, the pavilion at the end of the walkway collapsed with a thunderous crash, bricks and dust falling into the lake, sending up splashes.

From the moment they met Liu Yiyi, Yu Wenwen hadn’t asked her a single question.

The inn’s waiter, terrified by the sudden scene, fell to the ground, his face pale, sobbing uncontrollably.

Shen Yu’s expression remained indifferent as he gazed at the distant sand gulls.

Liu Yiyi escaped the pavilion just as it fell, landing at the far end of the walkway, her face filled with terror as she stared at the sword-wielding woman.

Had she moved any slower, she would have been reduced to dust with the pavilion.

Years of comfort had left her unused to such contempt; now rage surged within her. Liu Yiyi spoke with a dark tone, “Who are you? How dare you act so brazenly in my place?”

Another sword light.

The walkway beneath Liu Yiyi’s feet instantly cracked open a huge gap and slowly tilted into the lake.

Several streaks of light followed, forcing Liu Yiyi to dodge desperately. Their skirmish laid waste to the once tranquil walkway and lakeside pavilion.

Shen Yu’s gaze shifted from the sand gulls to the beautiful sword immortal. He thought Yu Wenwen’s swordsmanship truly followed the path of dominance—her strikes decisive, her presence unrivaled. The only flaw was that her strength was still somewhat insufficient.

Liu Yiyi was now forced into a sorry state. Her cultivation was not only far below that of the sword-wielding woman, even her combat skills lagged greatly. Knowing she was no match, she bolted for the distance.

Yu Wenwen stood with her sword, making no move to pursue.

Shen Yu asked, “Letting her go? People from the Land of Thousand Streams won’t fall for a ‘lure the snake from its hole’ scheme.”

Now that Liu Yiyi’s identity had been exposed by the Hall of Pure Law, an undercover agent in a border town held little value for the Land of Thousand Streams. Aid was unlikely.

“I know.” Yu Wenwen replied coolly. “She cannot escape.”

Then, a pale blue ancient sword appeared before her, its blade shimmering, stirring the air.

A tiny girl—no more than an inch tall—stood atop the sword, mischievous and clever. She looked at Shen Yu as if recalling old times, pouting with a look that said, ‘I’m still angry.’

Shen Yu was amazed. “I didn’t expect that in less than two years, you’ve already achieved unity of body and sword?”

“Still a bit short, but for this distance, it’s enough.” Yu Wenwen formed a sword seal, her dark hair fluttering without wind.

The ancient sword quivered, the little girl on its tip mimicking Yu Wenwen’s gestures, her expression serious, her body radiating powerful spiritual energy.

Sword winds arose.

Yu Wenwen pointed her sword ahead, and the ancient blade shot forward like an arrow, vanishing instantly.

Three breaths later.

The sword returned from the sky, its blade streaked with crimson blood.

The waiter, still cowering and sobbing on the ground, asked in a trembling voice, “Proprietress... is she... dead?”

Yu Wenwen nodded.

Shen Yu shook his head. “Not yet.”

Yu Wenwen looked at him in surprise. “She should be dead.”

Shen Yu said calmly, “I’m referring to another one.”

Yu Wenwen frowned, then suddenly understood.

The once-panicked inn waiter’s pupils contracted, his aura shifted abruptly, and in the next moment he tried to leap skyward.

But before he could gather his strength, a wooden sword pierced his heart, pinning him firmly to a pillar of the walkway.

He stared at the figure in green in the distance, unable to comprehend, even in death, how he had been discovered.

Shen Yu’s gaze remained as calm as ever, as if he had performed the simplest of tasks.

Yu Wenwen asked, “How did you notice?”

“I didn’t see anything odd. But I met him more than ten years ago, and after all this time, his appearance hadn’t changed at all. It seemed suspicious.”

Yu Wenwen was speechless. “Ten years ago—how old were you?”

Shen Yu thought for a moment. “Seven.”