V1: Chapter 61: Solution

"...Woahh!"

"Good, good, good!"

A burst of enthusiastic applause erupted in the tavern, with some whistling. The owner even cupped his mouth with his hand, making a megaphone shape, "Miss! Awesome!"

In a daze, Liang Lin felt as if she were back in the joyful days with her subordinates, when they had cheered for her in the same way.

The two burly men collapsed to the ground, too weak to stand, but still gave Liang Lin a thumbs-up. "I was too arrogant just now, Miss, you are truly amazing."

For some reason, Liang Lin felt that Terence looked somewhat familiar. But before she could think about it, the surrounding men swarmed around her.

"Let's spar a bit!"

"May I ask for your guidance?"

The men rolled up their sleeves, one by one attacking, only to fall heavily to the ground one after another. Although they grimaced on the ground, they all got up with smiles and admiration for Liang Lin.

Time passed, and Liang Lin, exhausted, sat down on a chair.

Although they had been celebrating for half the night, everyone was still as energetic as if they were on steroids, tireless and continuing to cheer.

Amidst the cheers, Liang Lin remained silent for a while, her hand eventually resting on her sword sheath.

A sword, in the hands of a swordsman, possesses a life of its own; at least in hers, she could feel it.

In this fervent and passionate atmosphere, Liang Lin suddenly felt like making some melodramatic remarks. Even if she said something cheesy, in this exhilarating moment, no one would laugh, right?

"Actually… I am a swordsman."

Liang Lin slowly drew the sword from her waist.

“It used to be, but it can't be now.”

The cheers gradually subsided.

Perhaps sensing the sorrow in Liang Lin's eyes, someone spoke up, “Miss, the swordsmanship competition is about to begin. You can participate! Just those two punches you threw earlier—hey~ you don't need to show off your swordsmanship in front of us; we can all tell how good you are.”

Liang Lin sighed and shook her head. Then, her expression turned indignant, and she slammed her hand heavily on the table.

“The swordsmanship competition! Women aren't allowed to participate!” Liang Lin said, her tone filled with deep resentment. “This ridiculous rule! It's been in place for over a hundred years!”

The surrounding noise completely ceased, and everyone fell into deep thought.

At this moment, the owner, carrying a glass of barley wine, walked to Liang Lin's side.

“Miss, perhaps… we can change our perspective. I mean, since we can't change the unchangeable rules, then… we can change ourselves.”

Change ourselves?

Liang Lin froze for a second, then, under the bar owner's meaningful gaze, she was overjoyed.

She snatched the barley wine from his hand, tilted her head back, and chugged down half a glass.

"Ha!"

The glass slammed heavily on the table, spilling the liquor onto Liang Lin's hands, the table, and the clothes of the surrounding customers.

"I understand, thank you."

Liang Lin pulled a handful of silver coins from her pocket, tossed them on the bar, and then finished the rest of her barley wine. She stood up, ready to leave.

"Wait!"

The bar owner suddenly called out to her.

“Miss, do you know where to go? Some people don't just appear out of thin air.”

The owner chuckled, picking up some silver coins from the table and weighing them in his hand.

“Hmm… haha~ these silver coins are enough for me for a year.”

“Miss, I thought you were giving me these silver coins so I could take you to ‘that thing.’”

Liang Lin’s eyes widened slowly, her smile deepening, becoming almost manic, like a madwoman.

Of course, she was already a madwoman.

“Take me there.”

The owner patted his regular customer on the shoulder.

“Watch the shop for me, and I’ll treat you to a month’s worth of free barley wine.”

The regular customer gave an “OK” sign.

The owner led Liang Lin out.

“As you know, civilian deaths are common.” The owner carried a lantern, walking ahead.

It was three in the morning. All was quiet, pitch black, with only the faint light of the lantern illuminating the path ahead.

Liang Lin responded.

"Hmm."

"The Hart family's youngest son died yesterday. He had just turned fifteen. The family is busy and hasn't reported it yet, so it won't be discovered. He's old enough to participate in the swordplay competition."

"Hmm, what was the boy's name?"

"Elton Hart."

"Okay, I'll remember that name."

The owner led Liang Lin around a corner; the surrounding environment became increasingly dilapidated.

“Miss, I know you're probably from a noble family. Silver coins are like grains of rice to you. The youngest son of the Hart family is worth less than ten silver coins.”

“Ten coins, so cheap,” Liang Lin scoffed. “Sure enough, in the capital, human life is never valued.”

“Isn't it the same elsewhere?”

The owner smiled bitterly. “Our lives as commoners are never even considered lives.”

“No!”

Liang Lin answered decisively.

“What I protect isn't just nobles, but also commoners.”

The lower classes that Liang Lin despised were those with vulgar ways, those who committed arson, murder, and robbery, those who seduced married nobles—human beings without dignity.

"Well, Miss, you are truly extraordinary. I sincerely hope you will achieve final victory in the swordsmanship competition."

"That's for sure. As long as I participate, the ultimate winner can only be me. Everyone else will have come up empty-handed."

Finally, the owner led Liang Lin to a dilapidated house. The door was a rotten wooden door that creaked and groaned in the wind.

It was locked, but the door looked like it could be kicked over with a single kick; the lock was practically useless.

Knock, knock, knock~

A gentle knock was made on the door.

No response.

The innkeeper knocked a few more times, and an old, weary voice came from inside.

"Who is it…"

The voice sounded like it had just crawled out of a coffin.

“It’s me, Prescott, you’ve forgotten?”

“Prescott… (pauses for two seconds) Ah… Boss, what brings you here?”

The door opened, and a head peeked out. It was a middle-aged man with a face full of wrinkles, his hands, like withered wood, gripping the doorframe.

“Auriel, your youngest son died yesterday, didn’t he?”

Hearing this, a deep sorrow appeared on Auriel’s face, and he silently nodded.

“The money for your new house has arrived.”

Prescott stepped to the left, revealing Liang Lin behind him. He gestured, introducing her,

“This is a noble lady from the capital. She wants to use silver coins to exchange for your Elton’s identity and name.”