Most of the people present hadn’t gone out since they checked in; some hadn’t even set foot outside the inn’s front door. Many could testify for one another.
The sandstorms had been heavy these past few days, making travel through the sea of sand inconvenient—especially in the direction of Cloud City. Thus, Yao Yao Inn only had guests checking in over the last few days, and no one checking out.
Soon, it was Feng Yun’ai’s turn.
When her name was called, she fell silent for a moment.
She was here to find someone—an expert, at that. Whether her intentions were good or evil was something only she knew. If she answered honestly, she might bring suspicion upon herself.
Sang Chencao tapped her fingers against the table with an air of leisure, looking as if she were enjoying a show.
The crowd turned their gazes toward the two of them. In this inn, only these two wore veiled hats at all times, never showing their true faces.
Feng Yun’ai stood up. The thin blades hanging all over her person clinked together with a crisp, pleasant sound that felt sharp and intimidating. Yet, her white dress was untainted by a single speck of dust, making her appear exceptionally ethereal.
“Where did you come from? Where did you go during your three-day stay, and what did you do?” Sang Chencao asked with great interest.
Feng Yun’ai replied in a cool voice, “I come from the Central Plains. I am here to lend a knife. I have not gone out once during my three-day stay.”
Very few people came from the Central Plains, especially at a time like this.
However, compared to the Central Plains, the phrase “lend a knife” caused a massive uproar among the guests.
Someone murmured, “A descendant of the Knife-Lending Sect? I thought that sect had no successors left. Nothing good ever happens when the Knife-Lending Sect descends from the mountains. It looks like the martial world is in for a calamity.”
“But you never showed your face, did you?” Sang Chencao said, her voice filled with intrigue. “Who knows if you’re really a descendant of the Knife-Lending Sect? And who knows if you were really behind closed doors while your body was actually outside the inn?”
The little maid hiding behind Lin Yaoyao spoke up timidly, “I can testify. Whenever I brought food, this guest was always there to receive it in her room.”
Sang Chencao’s interest immediately waned. “Well, isn’t that a coincidence,” she said lazily. “This lady really should thank you.”
Lin Yaoyao proceeded to call out the other names. Finally, she mentioned Sang Chencao. The last names in the ledger belonged to the escort agency, who had already been ruled out.
Sang Chencao spoke up. “I came from Yellow Sand Cliff. I wanted to seek out a master and learn their skills, but I ended up empty-handed. Out of necessity, I came to stay at Yao Yao Inn. Everyone here knows what I’ve been doing since I arrived.”
After listening, Feng Yun’ai felt that at least half of what this woman said was a lie.
With martial arts like hers, did she really need to seek a master? Such skill couldn’t have been self-taught unless she was a peerless genius.
Furthermore, Yellow Sand Cliff was clearly not an ideal place to seek apprenticeship. Specifically, the master of Yellow Sand Cliff, Wen Lanxin, was no righteous figure. Although Wen Lanxin hadn’t done much in recent years—almost as if she had retired from the martial world—her reputation remained.
“Yellow Sand Cliff…” Feng Yun’ai searched her memory, vaguely recalling that the master of that place had a formidable title.
Hu Cheng’s follower shouted in shock, “Do you all remember what title Wen Lanxin once held in the martial world?”
“Soul-Shattering Needle, Wen Lanxin!” someone responded.
“Could Wen Lanxin have done it? She just hasn’t appeared for a long time, which is why she’s not on the rankings. But back then, she was a match for Feng Rong!” Hu Cheng’s follower continued. “Wen Lanxin’s martial arts are far superior to ours. If she wanted to hide her tracks and kill Hu Cheng, it would have been… effortless.”
“Wen Lanxin is not a member of the Sun Chasing Cult. Besides, a single sword strike would have sufficed for her to kill Hu Cheng; why bother with poison? Everyone knows she prefers needles. For her to kill with a needle now would be like trying to hide something by drawing attention to it,” Sang Chencao said, cutting through the confusion.
“It doesn’t seem like Wen Lanxin’s doing,” Feng Yun’ai agreed, a rare moment of concurrence.
Sang Chencao suddenly looked toward Lin Yaoyao. “All the guests have confessed,” she said unhurriedly. “I would like the innkeeper and the staff to detail their movements over the past few days as well.”
The workers looked at each other. Those who had gone out for supplies turned pale, stammering as they explained their whereabouts.
“And the innkeeper?” Sang Chencao pointed the spearhead.
By now, Feng Yun’ai was unable to stop her. Based on the accounts of everyone else, none of them seemed like the type to kill Hu Cheng. As a result, the innkeeper’s suspicion only grew.
Lin Yaoyao’s lips pressed thin. She raised her fan to cover half her face, her breathing slightly uneven. “I went out for several days in a row to Listening Moon Town to negotiate prices for various supplies for the inn.”
Sang Chencao glanced at Feng Yun’ai, but she addressed Lin Yaoyao. “Then why did you go out again last night?”
