By evening, without the performances to draw a crowd, the inn’s foot traffic was less than at lunch. Shu Rui placed the opening promotion sign prominently and left the scattered red paper from the firecrackers outside as a display of a newly opened inn.
The evening crowd was moderate—five tables fully occupied, with two more outside, turning over three times. Business looked lively.
Shu Rui’s roasted squid and lamb skewers, dusted with aromatic spices and perfectly grilled, paired excellently with wine. The guests became lively, cheering and playing games audible to the backyard.
By around 7:45 p.m., most dishes were sold, and few new guests arrived. Shu Rui took a brief rest, pouring himself a cup of tea, noticing the guest in the Chrysanthemum Room pacing the balcony.
The man glanced downstairs, frowning, seeming annoyed but hesitant to speak. Shu Rui called gently, “Sir, is there anything you need? My assistant can bring it up.”
The guest shook his head. “I’m resting. No need to trouble the inn.”
Lu Ling, clearing tables, asked Shu Rui about his frown.
“The guest upstairs paced the balcony, perhaps bothered by noise, but didn’t say anything,” Shu Rui explained.
Lu Ling glanced toward the hall. “True, one table is playing games, another has four men drinking and chatting loudly.”
Shu Rui’s brow furrowed. “Noisy. They must hear it upstairs.”
“What time is it now?”
“About 7:45 p.m.,” Lu Ling replied.
Shu Rui said, “People usually sleep at set times. In about fifteen minutes, it’ll be late enough that continuing to serve outside guests would disturb the upstairs guests. I hadn’t considered how late to serve food—just focused on running the inn. We’ll stop taking orders soon.”
Qing overheard and asked, “So we stop serving now?”
“Yes. After 7:45 p.m., only in-house guests can order. That’s it for today.”
Qing nodded, went to hang the closed sign, but two guests came asking for food. Shu Rui reluctantly told them the kitchen was closed.
“You’re closing already? We came specially on a friend’s recommendation.”
Shu Rui apologized politely. “Our inn primarily accommodates overnight guests. Though we serve some small dishes, after 7:45 p.m., continuing to serve outside guests would disturb those staying here. It’s better to close early than cause mutual inconvenience.”
The two men who had come together exchanged a glance, clearly a bit discouraged.
Shu Rui noticed this and added, “It’s troublesome that you two came all this way to visit. I truly apologize. If you don’t mind, allow our inn to offer two small cups of light wine as a token of thanks for your patronage.”
With a free drink on offer, they were naturally pleased, and Shu Rui called Qing to serve the two cups of wine.
“The inn is considerate, ensuring the lodging guests are not disturbed and the diners can still enjoy their meals. Next time, if you’re free, do come and dine with us again.”
Shu Rui thanked them and watched as they left. Qing adjusted the closing sign and sighed, “There are still dishes left in the kitchen—it feels like a wasted opportunity.”
Shu Rui patted Qing’s shoulder. “If we were to chase those extra twenty or thirty coins, the guests upstairs and those eating here might end up in conflict, and both sides would leave dissatisfied. That would be far worse.”
Qing nodded. When he had previously worked for that cruel couple, they never cared whether diners disturbed the lodging guests. Yet, conflicts between diners and guests were rare—because their food was so poor, outsiders would try it once and never return, leaving the inn’s food business sluggish.
Poor business meant ingredients often went unused, and to save money, stale or low-quality ingredients were still cooked. It was lucky if no one got sick from eating such food.
Shu Rui said, “Go take a small plate of edamame to the two noisy tables and ask them to lower their voices.”
Qing acknowledged and went inside. Shu Rui stayed outside for a while, encouraging a couple more groups to leave. Once the inn quieted down, he returned.
Later, in the backyard, the guest in the Chrysanthemum Room called for a pot of hot tea. Shu Rui carried it up.
“Thank you, innkeeper,” the guest said.
“You’re welcome. If you need hot water or tea, just call—it’s no trouble at all,” Shu Rui replied.
The guest continued, “I’m not just grateful for the hot tea, but for maintaining the inn’s calm and quiet. Thank you very much.”
“Wooden buildings don’t have great soundproofing, but that’s the same everywhere,” Shu Rui said with a smile. “Running a business, I have to consider both diners and guests. I cannot just chase money and ignore everything else. Being a new inn, there are still many things we haven’t perfected—please excuse the shortcomings.”
The guest felt reassured. “Honestly, traveling alone, it’s not easy to find a trustworthy inn that understands one’s needs.”
“When I stayed elsewhere,” Shu Rui continued, “being a lone guest, the staff would act polite while collecting payment, but once I settled in, their faces changed. Hot water might not be provided, tea would arrive cold, and if I refused jasmine tea, they’d still serve it anyway. You couldn’t argue.”
Shu Rui himself had traveled from Jizhou Prefecture, staying in many inns along the way, and had seen plenty of unpleasant staff. But having Lu Ling with him made things manageable—otherwise, he might have suffered more.
“Being out in the world is never easy,” Shu Rui comforted the guest. “I’m also a gentleman myself, so I try my best to care for guests like you.”
“Though I won’t stay here long,” the guest said, “I will tell friends and family about your inn. If anyone travels this way, they’ll stay here.”
Shu Rui was pleased. Even if a transient guest never returned, recommending the inn to others was the highest praise.
They chatted for a while longer before Shu Rui went downstairs.
Returning to the backyard, Shu Rui saw Lu Ling usher a man into the shared dorm. “Guest arrived?” he asked Qing.
Qing nodded. “A man. Lu said he would lead him inside.”
Shu Rui instructed, “If he’s here and a male guest arrives, let him guide them inside. If he’s not available, call me. Don’t enter the room yourself.”
Qing nodded. The two noisy tables in the hall had left, and the guests thanked Qing for the edamame, leaving satisfied. Shu Rui knew that while some people are unreasonable, many are considerate—if handled politely, there’s no need to blame oneself for the few who are difficult.
Shu Rui tidied the stove, packed a bowl of leftover roasted squid for Qing to take home, and continued arranging the kitchen. Lu Ling hadn’t come out, likely attending to the new guest.
In the shared dorm, Lu Ling held his breath, wary.
The man who arrived had hair matted with oil and clumps sticking to his scalp, with dandruff falling onto his shoulders. He dropped his bundle on the platform bed and sat heavily, kicking off his shoes, releasing a strong, sour, warm stench. His socks were filthy, yellowed with mud, the remnants of their original white showing faintly at the edges.
Even though Lu Ling had lived among men for a long time and seen many unpleasant sights, he had never encountered such a stench. His tolerance was decent, but he could barely open his eyes. In the past, at the martial arts school, he would have drawn his sword immediately.
Now, he could not act aggressively. He stayed several steps away and asked, “Do you want hot water? Two wen.”
The man sniffed and bared yellowed teeth. “That’s expensive. No, I’ll manage for one night.”
Lu Ling clenched his jaw. “It’s a new inn—let me send two buckets of hot water for you.”
“Send?” the man asked, expecting compliance. Shu Rui clarified: “Our inn provides hot water for the shared dorm at no extra cost. Looking at your room, it seems clean with no fleas, so I don’t mind. Running a business isn’t easy—saving a little water is just a minor expense.”
Lu Ling’s eyes darkened. He weighed returning the fifty coins and giving the man a proper scolding—but Shu Rui might be displeased.