An Ugly Lesson
Heo Cho-ryeong took Ouyang Qiangang's silence as complete trust in her—and if that was what it meant, then she had a duty to answer it in kind.
She spoke to Hwa Do-reung in a cold voice. "Young Master Hwa, I thought our last duel had settled everything between us. It seems you still haven't let go."
Hwa Do-reung's face twisted. The humiliating memory of his crushing defeat at her hands in that duel came flooding back.
Heo Cho-ryeong went on, her expression frosty. "I am in the company of an honored guest, and I have no wish for a disturbance. So take your leave."
A public, unequivocal rejection. The guests on the second floor of the inn held their breath as Heo Cho-ryeong shattered the last shreds of Hwa Do-reung's pride with a single sentence.
Rage stripped him of all reason, and his face mottled red and purple. He leveled a finger not at Heo Cho-ryeong but at Ouyang Qiangang and shouted, "This is your doing! Everything started going wrong the moment you showed up! How dare a half-corpse like you—!"
Blinded by fury, he lunged, hand outstretched to seize Ouyang Qiangang by the collar.
Ouyang Qiangang let out a thin sigh, raised the middle finger of his right hand, and gave Hwa Do-reung's wrist a light tap, as if shooing away an annoying fly. A single, featherlight touch.
"…!"
What looked like a gentle contact was nothing of the sort. Hwa Do-reung felt as though he had slammed headlong into a massive boulder; his qi and blood surged in reverse, and his meridians twisted every which way. "Kgh!"
With a strangled cry, both his knees buckled, folding helplessly and utterly beyond his will. Thud! Pale as death, Hwa Do-reung found himself kneeling before Ouyang Qiangang.
In an instant, every murmur in the inn drained away like an ebbing tide. Every eye in the room fixed on the scene.
The eyes of the three men and one woman accompanying Hwa Do-reung went wide with shock—but their composure returned almost at once. Their standing, their martial arts, and their jianghu experience were on an entirely different plane from Hwa Do-reung's; a scene like this was far too small to rattle them.
The only woman among the four opened her mouth, eyes gleaming. "How interesting."
She was a peerless beauty in the flower of her youth, not the least bit outshone even beside Heo Cho-ryeong.
Ouyang Qiangang's gaze swept lightly over her clothing and the sword at her waist. A phoenix was embroidered on her sleeve, and a purple gem glinted in the hilt of her blade. Had he possessed a veteran's jianghu experience, her attire alone would have told him her sect at a glance—but such discernment could not be expected of him now.
The woman saluted with cupped fists. "I am Liu Qingyu of the Phoenix Sword Gate. That move you just showed was quite distinctive. Might I ask which sect you hail from?"
Ouyang Qiangang frowned. She had revealed her identity; he could hardly fail to answer in kind. To stay silent would be an insult, and few in the murim would let that pass. Sighing inwardly, he rose from his seat and returned the salute. "I am Ouyang Qiangang of the Ouyang Clan of Nanchang."
"The Ouyang Clan…" Liu Qingyu's eyes narrowed. "Do you mean the Ouyang Clan where the Life-and-Death Divine Doctor resides—the one who drove back the recent plague and created the Evil-Repelling Divine Pill?"
Tension flickered across Heo Cho-ryeong's face. She did not want Ouyang Qiangang's identity laid bare. But he answered with perfect composure. "The surname Ouyang isn't all that common, so probably, yes."
A young man standing behind Liu Qingyu stepped forward. Tall and handsome, he wore a blue silk robe and carried a three-foot precious sword slung across his back. Frowning as though Ouyang Qiangang displeased him, he said to Liu Qingyu, "Martial sister, that man's technique is nothing remarkable. It only looked impressive because Young Master Hwa's martial arts are so pitifully crude."
Expressionless, Ouyang Qiangang let his gaze drift over Liu Qingyu, the man who had just stepped forward, and the two men behind them. They all wear the same phoenix on their sleeves—fellow disciples, then. But how did a nobody like Hwa Do-reung end up in company like this? Even at a glance, the gap between them was as wide as that between an egret and a crow.
Kneeling on the floor, Hwa Do-reung barely managed to raise his head and pleaded with the woman. "Lady Liu… are you truly going to stand there and watch me suffer this humiliation!"
Disgust surfaced on Liu Qingyu's deeply furrowed brow. "Do not drag us into your private grudges," she said coldly. "We did not come here to settle your personal affairs."
At her words, Hwa Do-reung's face went white.
Liu Qingyu turned back to Ouyang Qiangang. "As it happens, we were already on our way to the Ouyang Clan. We wish to pay our respects to the Life-and-Death Divine Doctor, whose name is known throughout the world. Since you are from there, young master, perhaps you know something of him."
Ouyang Qiangang flinched inwardly, but let none of it show. "I'm afraid I know little of him myself. After the plague ended, he departed without a farewell, leaving only the words, 'I have repaid every debt I owed this world; now I will sever my ties to the mortal realm.' So we have no idea where he has gone."
Then he looked to Heo Cho-ryeong. "My lady, I think it would be best if we headed home for today."
Heo Cho-ryeong nodded and rose from her seat.
At that moment, a cold-faced young man in black, sword at his waist and a few years older than the other three, stepped forward. "My martial sister has not finished speaking. So you are not going anywhere."
The air turned as cold as midwinter. A tense Heo Cho-ryeong clutched Ouyang Qiangang's sleeve—but he remained perfectly calm. Without so much as a twitch of an eyebrow, he smiled. "Blocking the road doesn't exactly make for a conversation."
The young man in black answered in a frigid tone. "It seems you don't know that refusing the offered cup only earns you the penalty cup." He meant to force the matter if he had to.
Ouyang Qiangang's gaze shifted to Liu Qingyu. She seemed the youngest of the three men and one woman, yet something about her marked her as their leader. "Are you simply going to watch your companion's rudeness?"
Liu Qingyu smiled, looking rather put upon. "Martial brother Seo has never been one to listen to me, so I'm afraid there's little I can do."
Ouyang Qiangang gave a wry smile. "You'd best rein him in. Otherwise he's about to learn an ugly lesson."
"Now that you've said that, young master, I truly cannot stop him."
Just as she said. Fury poured off the young man in black—Seo Il-do—as a crushing aura that seemed to strangle the air itself. "An ugly lesson, is it? Let's see whether you have the ability to teach one."
With that, he took one massive stride forward and drove a fist at Ouyang Qiangang. Whuumm— They were in a crowded hall, so he loosed no fist wind, but the internal force condensed in that punch was more than enough to shatter boulders besides.
Interest lit the faces of Liu Qingyu's party as they watched. Even Hwa Do-reung, who had staggered upright with the wall's help, wore an expression taut with tension and anticipation.
Ouyang Qiangang's faintly smiling face, by contrast, went blank. With only a slight twist of his upper body he let the fist slide past his chest, and his right elbow shot like lightning for Seo Il-do's sternum. Shwip—
Seo Il-do's complexion hardened to stone. He retreated a step, chopping at Ouyang Qiangang's neck with a left hand-blade while kicking at the bend of his knee. Whiir— It was a masterful piece of improvisation. But he had picked the wrong opponent.
Ouyang Qiangang was a grandmaster of close-quarters combat, one who had brought the Dragon-Seizing Grappling Hands of the Divine Physician Hua Tuo and the Dog-and-Marten Grappling Art of Sangchwi-gae No Hae to their consummation. Tilting his head just enough to let the hand-blade slip past, he slid out of the kick with the Nine Palaces Lost-Trace Steps, and his hand darted out like lightning to lock around Seo Il-do's elbow.
It was an exquisite move—impossible to evade even watching it with one's own eyes. In that instant, every ounce of strength left Seo Il-do's body, and he pitched forward, balance gone. Ouyang Qiangang did not miss the opening. He laid his palm against the man's chest and gave it a light push. A single strike, charged with precisely measured internal force, slammed into Seo Il-do's chest. Bam!
Flung backward by the dull, heavy impact, Seo Il-do tumbled dazedly across the floor three or four full turns. The color drained from the faces of Liu Qingyu's party, who had just witnessed the exact opposite of everything they had expected.
"Ugh…"
Face burning scarlet, Seo Il-do sprang up several times faster than he had fallen. It was thanks to Ouyang Qiangang, who bore him no killing intent, that he had been merely pushed away—no internal-damaging heavy-hand technique had touched him. Still, Seo Il-do had never known so humiliating a defeat since passing his twentieth year, and rage smoldered in his eyes.
Slamming his feet against the floor, he closed the distance in a blink and whirled his twin fists with terrifying momentum. Punches carrying enough force to crumple iron plates flew at Ouyang Qiangang's face in relentless succession. Whuuumm—
Ouyang Qiangang met the onslaught with the same expressionless face. Swaying his upper body once, supple as a willow branch, he slipped past both fists—then caught Seo Il-do's shoulder with unerring precision, the Dragon-Seizing Grappling Hands closing on it. With a light turn of the wrist, as if flicking off water—
Seo Il-do spun through the empty air a full two revolutions and was driven headfirst into the floor without mercy. Thud! Dust leapt up with the sound. He did not seem gravely hurt, yet he lay spread-eagled on his back, unable to rise. When Ouyang Qiangang had seized his shoulder, he had sealed his paralysis points as well.
Ouyang Qiangang glanced down at the fallen man, then addressed Liu Qingyu. "Lady Liu, I believe you've seen quite enough of that ugly lesson. Shall we leave it here?"
Liu Qingyu stared at him, wide-eyed. Martial brother Seo's Surging-Heart Fist stands at the very threshold of the Peak realm. And he dismantled it that lightly… The martial arts of a man not yet even twenty are truly frightening. On the road to meet the Life-and-Death Divine Doctor, we've stumbled upon a monster none of us foresaw…
She kept none of that on her face. "Very well. Martial brother Seo's fists may not compare to the sword, but they are impressive martial arts nonetheless. Young master Ouyang, would you release his paralysis points?"
Ouyang Qiangang nodded and undid them. Liu Qingyu said, "Martial brother, it ends here."
Scrambling to his feet, Seo Il-do glared at Ouyang Qiangang with murderous eyes, fists clenched white-knuckled. But as though Liu Qingyu's command were not his to defy, he tore his reluctant feet from the floor and withdrew behind her.
Ouyang Qiangang dismissed the glare without a thought. "It seems our conversation is over. May we go now?"
Liu Qingyu studied him for a long moment, then slowly nodded. "That is not mine to permit. Do as you please, young master."
"It was no pleasure meeting you. Let's make certain we never do again."
"Haah…"
Looking thoroughly done with it all, Ouyang Qiangang ignored the gaze fixed on him and turned to Heo Cho-ryeong. "Let's go, my lady."
He left the inn at Heo Cho-ryeong's side and set his steps toward Bamboo Forest Manor.
Watching the two figures recede from the window, Liu Qingyu asked Hwa Do-reung, "What on earth possessed you, young master Hwa, to throw yourself at young master Ouyang? I take it you carry spare lives about with you?"
The mockery was unmistakable.
"Uuuh…" Hwa Do-reung, corpse-pale, could not even manage a reply and simply hung his head.
He had known Ouyang Qiangang had learned martial arts, but he had never imagined him a master of this caliber. Had he known, no matter what a mad dog he was, he would never have lunged at him. He treasured his one and only life as much as any man.
Liu Qingyu's voice dropped, cold as ice. "That worthless pride of yours nearly turned our mission into a feud with young master Ouyang. Do not let private feelings ruin the work. Consider this a warning. Next time, it will not end with words."
"I… I will bear it in mind, Lady Liu…" Cold sweat beaded down Hwa Do-reung's spine as he answered. He had no confidence he could withstand Liu Qingyu's wrath. No—even the whole of Hwa Clan Manor could not have withstood it.