Why do I have so many masters?

In the east, a sliver of white gradually rose, then the sun ascended, scattering the last remnants of night, returning the sky to its clear brightness.

Perhaps related to yesterday's muffled thunder, the day was cloudless, the heavens were a high, deep blue, the air slightly cold and clean, with an autumnal crispness that made one's mood considerably more pleasant.

Yesterday, in Liangzhou's territory, at least two Middle Third Rank Jianghu masters were killed, a Fourth Rank young Grandmaster had his martial arts ruined, his life and death uncertain, and Liangzhou City's northern gate had collapsed halfway, taking at least half a month to repair.

Due to this event, Zhou Huan, the Provincial Official of Fifth Rank in light scarlet official robes, was forcibly detained, imprisoned, and handed over to a famous constable from Heaven Capital City, and due to the notoriety of that harsh official, the city's officials were universally anxious.

Both within the Jianghu and the ranks of the Imperial Court, substantial upheaval ensued.

However, for most of the citizens of Liangzhou City, last night was not especially important; they were not even aware of what precisely occurred, nor why the city gate collapsed.

What they were keen to discuss were where beauties sang and danced last night, how truly appealing their figures were, where fires blazed, and they jokingly speculated if some youth, emboldened by the Mid-Autumn full moon and fine wine, dared to swear at the heavens.

After chatting, they hurriedly consumed the remains of their breakfast under the expectation that the mooncakes should be finished before they lose their flavor, forecasting that for quite some time to come, each household's breakfast would consist of mooncakes.

The vendor at the flatbread stall looked like his face had darkened into charcoal.

The entirety of the city stretched and, recovering from last night's clamor, its citizens returned to their daily routines, going to their workplaces as they had before, shops opening early yet sparsely populated, with only the shopkeeper slumped over the counter, eyes half-closed in a nap, while most employees were busy dismantling the lanterns.

The remaining materials, many of which were satin scorched by fireworks, showing charred marks, and generally scented, as per custom, would be equally divided among the workers.

The shopkeeper, lofty in his identity, looked down on such things, feeling wearing them out would damage one's image, but for the workers, the satin and incense were luxuries seldom affordable.

Bringing them home could keep the wives happy for a few days, and over several years, enough could be saved to fashion respectable clothes for their children, making them more diligent workers, the shopkeeper of Zhang's Guesthouse squinted, assessing that within half a day, the lanterns could be dismantled, and business could return to normal.

Regrettably, every year, Mid-Autumn is a time when wanderers return home; once those gathered in Liangzhou City for the wine festival departed, the guesthouses, like the flatbread stall, would face a prolonged period of quiet.

Taking advantage last night by hiking lodging fees tenfold, the shopkeeper mindlessly tapped his fingers on the abacus, observing far more martial soldiers and government officials passing by on the street than usual; within just a short while, three waves had already gone by.

In his mind surfaced thoughts of the drifting youth killed right outside his guesthouse last night, along with the roaring thunder, his face showing some hesitation, pondering whether to greet the familiar martial soldiers and officials, subtly inquiring if anything serious transpired, impacting his business.

If the issues were severe, maybe laying off a couple of workers temporarily would be wise.

But this might require bleeding out expenses; at least, he'd need to treat them to a meal.

His mind scattered, somewhat distracted, the shopkeeper did not notice several people entering from outside the guesthouse until the leading middle-aged man lightly and firmly slapped the mahogany counter, producing a crisp sound, pulling the shopkeeper back to attention, instinctively displaying a genial smile, he greeted:

"Honorable customers, stopping for a meal or lodging? Half a month ago, the shop received a lame plowing ox; now there's freshly cooked beef, freshly baked mooncakes, and rice porridge, at fair prices."

As he spoke, he had the chance to size up the group.

At first glance, making the judgment, they were different from the flock of wealthy customers from last night's lodging.

Among them were elders and women, only one young man; the ten before him now were all robust men, their iron-like muscles clearly apparent even in loose clothing, not comparable to idle youths with a few menacing tattoos.

Even standing, their spines were straight, hands on swords in silence, naturally exuding a pressure not typical of ordinary Jianghu people. Their clothing seemed dampened by morning dew, appearing somewhat heavy.

Nine remained silent, only the resolute-faced leader, lines on his cheeks, brows slightly furrowed yet not showing age, subconsciously advanced half a step, moving before them all, softly saying:

"Lodging."

"Arrange five rooms for us."

Cao Limin spoke while reaching into his pocket for money.

After entering the city, those from the Divine Martial Mansion scattered into several teams, each with as many as ten people, as few as three, arranging accommodations centered around the Zhang's Guesthouse where Wang Anfeng was, occupying all high positions, forming a protective stance, shielding Wang Anfeng and others.