Chapter 121
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 121
Chapter Title: Fine Timber
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Pickpockets had their standards.
At least, this boy did.
Locals whose faces he knew and who had connections were off-limits. Better to target travelers or passersby from out of town.
Instead of those whose stolen goods wouldn't even fetch a price, go for wealthy merchants or the elegant daughters of noble houses.
Above all, to avoid getting caught, the mark had to be no martial artist.
It wasn't boasting, but the boy was a seasoned pickpocket. To his expert eye, the woman named So-hyang was the perfect target.
Her striking beauty, smooth skin, clean and luxurious attire, the refined air of a well-bred lady.
Her face was unfamiliar, so she must be a traveler drawn to the festival.
Swept up in the festive mood, she bought heaps of food she couldn't possibly finish, or handed out silver coins to street kids as if it were nothing—signs of immense wealth, not even counting as extravagance.
Yet her gait was uneven, and her temples didn't bulge, so she couldn't be peak-level or higher.
Just to be sure, he focused his mind between his brows and extended his 'sense' to probe, but no internal energy registered nearby.
This ability that had accompanied him for some time now. A sense distinct from sight or hearing—it had never betrayed him.
Extending his sense to peer inside her coin pouch, he slowly closed in, waiting for his chance.
Slipping naturally into the edge of her vision, brushing past as if by accident, he slipped his hand into the pouch and extracted its contents with a wriggling, snakelike motion.
It was a fluid, secretive hand technique that could rival any martial artist's.
He didn't take much. Just three silver coins from a pile of them.
Precisely the amount that she might not even notice was missing.
Even if she did, she'd likely dismiss it as too much hassle to investigate.
It might be pocket change to her, but to the boy, it was a fortune he couldn't earn honestly in months.
Unlike most pickpockets who stole small change dozens of times a day, the boy aimed for the big score.
His peers targeted small fry where even if caught, there'd be no real trouble.
Get nabbed robbing the elite, and you'd be beaten to a pulp or lose a hand.
But the boy trusted his special ability and deft hands. He was certain he'd never get caught.
He didn't want to rob ordinary passersby just a bit better off than him and cause them suffering, either.
Besides, he had no choice.
No matter how many crumbs you gather, they're still crumbs. To get the money he needed, he had to take risks like this.
Thus, as her shoulder lightly brushed his, the boy's misdeed succeeded as always.
"So, where did our little friend pick up such naughty habits?"
...Until the woman grabbed his hand, hooked her arm through his, laced their fingers, and clung to him. That's when he thought that.
"-Y-Yes? Wh-what?"
-----
How in the world?
His first thought was disbelief.
His hand had been out of her line of sight, silent and vibration-free.
Regardless of his age, the boy was a master thief, confident in his skills.
Unless it was a peak-level expert with hyper-attuned qi sense, he could fool even a martial artist's senses.
His spotless record proved it.
"Have you eaten yet?"
The boy was flustered but quickly regained his composure and assessed the situation.
He'd heard that young masters and ladies from good families learned martial arts for self-defense or health.
He'd never seen such a case before, but this woman must be one who'd trained exceptionally hard.
It didn't matter.
More importantly, he knew exactly what to do next.
Escape.
Even with his underdeveloped body, he was confident in his strength. No matter how trained she was, he could shake off her grip easily.
One lesson from haunting back alleys: judgments and actions must be swift.
He twisted the arm hooked in his, hooked her ankle from behind with one leg, and kicked off the ground with the other, shoving his weight into her.
Without formal training, he'd instinctively grasped human body mechanics—one key being disrupting the center of gravity.
"-Huh?"
But she didn't fall.
Not just that—she showed no reaction whatsoever. Not a flinch.
Her breast, pressed against his arm, merely jiggled softly.
"Oh my."
Any boy his age would blush at the soft, plump, heavy sensation even through her clothes, but the boy had no luxury for that.
"-Urk...!"
It wasn't about being overpowered. Even an adult, even a martial artist, should feel the push.
Yet with this woman, it felt like shoving a city wall.
Even with his limited experience, he knew self-defense training couldn't produce this.
Not even the black-path warrior who'd boasted of completing the Lesser Circulation Circuit.
They were strong, but human.
Would a peak master, whom he'd glimpsed from afar long ago, weapon gleaming with superhuman power, be like this?
Street storytellers spun such tales.
Peak masters who shattered boulders and projected sword qi had bulging solar plexus points at their temples. But absolute masters beyond that had flat temples again.
Fancy terms like half-polished returning to raw or blue flame purified—fabrications, he'd thought.
But... so, this absolute master, right now...?
"...Done struggling?"
Under her awkward smile and gaze looking down at his flailing self, the boy's eyes shook violently.
Flustered by an unimaginable situation.
Terror at a crisis he couldn't resist with his strength.
I'm screwed.
That was the boy's well-considered conclusion.
Very seriously, more certainly than any crisis in his life.
"-Sorry! Please spare my life...!"
One lesson from back alleys: judgments and actions must be swift.
If he couldn't flee, he had to offer the stolen coins plus all his saved pocket change and beg desperately.
-----
No matter what the boy thought, So-hyang had no intention of punishing him harshly or turning him over to the authorities.
He hadn't used vicious methods like direct harm or knockouts—just cleanly stole money.
Unless it was an adult with kleptomania etched into their psyche, a child had room for reform.
Above all, from his physiognomy, So-hyang saw his heart wasn't wicked.
Not so much innate facial structure, but reading emotions from facial muscle twitches and gaze.
During the theft, he'd felt guilt, not pleasure—driven by desperate need despite hating it.
Even with reason, crime is crime, but it wouldn't be odd for So-hyang to lecture on morals.
"You need a lot of money, huh. Debts? Or family illness? Ah, like this..."
"...Pardon?"
"Your sick family—is it your parents? Or siblings... Yes, a sibling. Little sister? Oh dear..."
So-hyang read the answers from his expressions without needing words, sighing as his tragic circumstances became vivid.
"Wh-what!?"
"Poor kid, so much hardship. Stealing's wrong, of course, but you're trying to protect your only family..."
"...!? How'd you know I have only one fa—gasp!"
From the boy's view, her reciting his life story was terrifying, draining color from his face.
"Sigh, your arms are skin and bones. Do you even eat properly?"
So-hyang grabbed his wrist, sighed pityingly, and offered her skewered chicken, urging him to eat.
"...Th-thank you..."
Whether she was some storyteller's absolute master or not, she could snap his neck easily—a martial artist's words.
He couldn't refuse.
He cautiously took the charcoal-grilled chicken, rich with smoky aroma, and chewed slowly.
In life's peril, appetite should flag, but his starving stomach welcomed the meat eagerly.
Honestly, it was delicious enough to bring tears.
"Mmm, good to see you eating well. Whatever you do, it's all to eat and live. Eat properly, and you'll grow tall and become a fine man."
No matter how he tried to think coldly or act mature, he was still a kid—hesitating in fear, then devouring greedily.
Then, pausing, he glanced warily at So-hyang and pulled the skewer from his mouth.
"M-Ma'am, um..."
"Ah, you want to take some for your sister?"
No, yes, but he hadn't even said it out loud...?
"...Y-yeah."
Exhausted from shock, he nodded blankly and sighed in relief.
Martial artists were those who trained in martial arts.
Martial arts were ultimately for harming people, so regardless of good or evil, they killed without hesitation.
Under the jianghu order, they followed their own logic with a single sword.
At least, that's what the boy knew.
Caught pickpocketing such a person, being fed chicken with intertwined fingers was luckier than beheading.
She didn't seem intent on harm or punishment, even showing fondness. Fortunate.
...Though why, he couldn't fathom.
"I'm So-hyang. And you?"
"Mokchong..."
As Mokchong thought, So-hyang felt fondness and interest toward the boy.
Beyond her general kindness to children or pity for his plight.
The boy himself was impressive.
Eye for gauging others' vision.
Movements controlling steps and joints to muffle sound.
Swift as wind, flexible as snake hands.
Instant escape decision upon restraint.
Skill at naturally upsetting balance.
His bones and muscles were average, but his martial aptitude in wielding them was exceptional—a true prodigy.
And beyond those trainable traits, something even more astonishing.
The boy wielded divine sense.