Martial Immortality: Starting with the Spirit Beast Scroll

After the paperwork was done, the Shopkeeper took a placard and key from the wall and walked out from behind the counter.

"This way, sir."

The Shopkeeper led the way. Zhao Lin noticed one of his legs was lame; he walked very slowly and was slightly hunched over.

As they passed Room Nine, Zhao Lin saw it was sealed shut with a paper strip, which was covered in dust.

The Shopkeeper opened the door to Room Ten and handed the key to Zhao Lin, saying with a smile, "Here you are, sir. Just give a shout if you need anything."

As Zhao Lin took the key, he took a quick glance and noticed a layer of pale yellow calluses at the base of the Shopkeeper’s fingers.

He was all too familiar with calluses like those!

Skin Tempering required one to plunge their hands into iron sand. The skin would repeatedly form calluses and peel away. After successfully completing the training, the skin would be restored to its original state, but a vertical line would remain on the palm, and some calluses would always linger at the base of the fingers.

Zhao Lin had already observed when he first entered the main hall that the Shopkeeper had no vertical line on his palm, nor any of the pale, prominent knuckles on the back of his hand.

However, both of these signs would fade with age. Moreover, once a martial artist broke through to the Qi Realm, these external indicators would disappear entirely.

But the calluses on the hand would always remain.

’Are these calluses from years of hard labor, or from martial arts training?’

Zhao Lin’s heart tightened, but his face remained impassive. "Alright," he said.

He walked into the room and closed the door behind him.

It was the middle of the day, and sunlight streamed in through the high window.

The room’s furnishings were simple. Besides a heated brick bed, there was only a table, a chair, and a wooden bucket by the door with a towel draped over it.

Zhao Lin spun around in place, his gaze sweeping over the door bolt, the window, the ceiling, and the floor. ’With a room layout like this,’ he mused, ’how did the killer escape after locking the door and window?’

Could it be a martial arts master with some kind of special ability?

But no matter how powerful they were, they couldn’t violate the laws of physics and lock the door from the outside.

Sun Zhang had already checked for secret underground passages or hidden compartments. His conclusion that Room Nine had no exit other than the door and window should be reliable.

Zhao Lin decided to stay for a while and observe.

He had already cleared things with the yamen, so no one would disturb him.

He hadn’t slept well the previous night, so Zhao Lin lay on the bed with his eyes half-closed, activating his super-hearing every few moments to scan for any sounds around him.

Ever since he became a constable, the bandits hadn’t sent anyone to tail or watch him, but Zhao Lin didn’t dare let his guard down.

An inn wasn’t the county yamen. If he was cornered here, it would be troublesome—he’d be a sitting duck.

For this reason, he had brought an axe from his residence on Shuncheng Street. If he ran into danger, he could smash his way through a wall to escape.

The inn was relatively quiet during the day, as most guests were out. It only started to get lively around dinnertime.

Before nightfall, an attendant brought hot water. Zhao Lin washed up, locked the door and window, and sat down in the middle of the room.

’If the killer is hiding in the inn, he—or they—should be making some unusual moves.’

With this thought, Zhao Lin’s throat vibrated rapidly, and his hearing opened up completely, receiving sounds from all directions like a radar.

People came and went in the main hall. In the lower-class rooms across the corridor, porters and laborers were shooting the breeze.

The guests in the upper-class rooms on the second floor weren’t resting either. Some were listening to music, others were drinking, and some had ordered... special services. A cacophony of CREAKS, SQUEAKS, and MOANS filled the air.

The more Zhao Lin tried not to listen, the more these sounds bored into his ears.

This kind of omnidirectional listening was already a huge strain on his body and mind. With the added interference of all this noise, Zhao Lin started to feel dizzy after just a short while.

’This is no good. Listening like this will kill me.’

Zhao Lin immediately changed his strategy and began listening intermittently. But even after listening late into the night, he didn’t gather any useful information.

’Don’t rush,’ he told himself. ’This sort of thing takes time. It would be stranger if I found the killer on the first day.’

The next day, Zhao Lin continued to listen but still heard no abnormal sounds.

However, it wasn’t a total loss. He had gotten a clear count of the inn’s staff: how many attendants, accountants, errand boys, cooks, and handymen there were.

On the third day, Zhao Lin listened until midnight.

CLANG... CLANG...

The sound of the night watchman’s clapper echoed from the street.

’The second watch of the night already.’

Zhao Lin sighed. Just as he thought the day would again be fruitless, a faint, muffled whisper suddenly reached his ears.

’What was that sound?’

Zhao Lin was instantly on alert.

The sound was extremely faint and intermittent. Its source wasn’t far, yet it sounded as if it were coming from behind a very thick wall.

Zhao Lin found it strange. The inn’s rooms were wooden, with poor soundproofing. As long as there was a sound, he should be able to amplify it with his super-hearing.

But this time, the whispering was so faint that even when amplified, it was barely louder than the buzzing of a mosquito.

Zhao Lin paced back and forth in the room, trying to find a spot where the "signal" was stronger.

The doorway, the table, beneath the window, the corner of the room... He made two full circuits but couldn’t find a suitable spot.

After a moment of thought, Zhao Lin looked at the floor beneath his feet, bent down, and pressed his ear against it.

The sound instantly became much louder!

It seemed two people were talking beneath the floorboards. He could sporadically make out words like "worry" and "two months."

’There’s a secret passage underground!’

Zhao Lin moved his body along the floor, and the volume of the sound changed accordingly.

When his head reached the heated brick bed, the sound became even clearer.

By now, he could hear the conversation clearly. A deep, smooth voice said, "The heat is on these days. You shouldn’t come out."

Zhao Lin’s breath hitched. That voice... it was the Shopkeeper!

Then, a coarse, raspy voice replied, "I know. You should head back..."

The deep, smooth voice spoke again, "Alright. Just be patient for a few more days."

"I get it..."

The raspy voice grumbled a few more words, growing quieter and quieter. Then the two stopped talking, and only the sound of muffled footsteps fading into the distance remained.

Zhao Lin glanced toward the door, then quickly walked out, crossing the corridor into the main hall.

The hall wasn’t crowded, with only a few guests drinking and chatting. The night-duty attendant had his chin propped on one hand, looking half-asleep.

"Sir, what can I get for you?"

Zhao Lin found a random seat, and the attendant walked over, yawning as he asked.

"A pot of tea."

"One moment, please."

Zhao Lin activated his hearing and heard faint footsteps in the room behind the counter, followed by the sound of someone taking off their shoes and getting into bed.

"Sir, your tea is here," the attendant said, bringing over the tea.

"Thank you for your trouble."

Zhao Lin paid for the tea, adding a small tip, and asked casually, "Say, lad, where do you guys sleep at night?"

The attendant took the silver coins and pointed toward the counter. "Back there, sir. I sleep in the outer room."

"And your Shopkeeper?"

"He sleeps in the inner room..."

Zhao Lin glanced over. It was the exact direction the voices had come from earlier.

He drank half a pot of tea, returned to his room, and went straight to the heated brick bed.

Carefully, he removed all the bedding and the mattress, revealing the surface of the brick bed beneath.

The brick bed was built from stone and brick, coated with a layer of fine clay plaster. A two-foot-square patch of clay in the middle was freshly applied; its color was different from the rest.

’So that’s how it is.’

Zhao Lin let out a soft breath, having faintly pieced together the general outline of what had happened.

A locked-room murder occurred in Room Nine. Everyone focused their search on Room Nine, never suspecting the killer came from Room Ten.

According to the case file, Room Ten was unoccupied that day.

It was very likely that the killer entered Room Nine from Room Ten through the adjoining wall, committed the murder, returned to Room Ten, and then escaped through the secret passage.

Thinking of this, Zhao Lin strode over to the wall separating the two rooms.

The partition wall was made of long wooden planks fitted together, and it was very sturdy.

Zhao Lin tapped lightly on the wall, listening to the sound while carefully inspecting each plank from top to bottom with his naked eye.

He found that the color and age of all the planks were identical, and there were no unusual sounds.

’That can’t be right...’

Zhao Lin pondered for a moment, his gaze finally settling on the ceiling beams above.