The Sweet Potato Appears

Jang Hyeon-nam was the sort of man who listened carefully even when the speaker seemed of little consequence.

"What makes you think so?"

He found it curious that Po Un, who had remained at the inn the entire time, would know the enemy's movements were a deception.

"What struck me as odd was that they chose the river — a place where they'd be so easily exposed."

"But traveling by boat would let them leave Weinan quickly, wouldn't it?"

"That's true enough, but moving by boat within Mount Hua Sect's sphere of influence looks like a ruse no matter how you slice it. If the Mount Hua disciples give chase, they'd more likely find themselves surrounded."

Jang Hyeon-nam nodded in agreement.

"Then where do you believe they went, Hero Po?"

"In my view, they would have chosen a crowded place precisely to hide from watching eyes. The odds are high they headed for the heart of Weinan."

"Hmm."

Jang Hyeon-nam's thoughts stretched out, as though Seo Joo-cheon's reasoning were winning him over.

Then another man stepped forward.

"Young Hero Jang, how can you act on the word of an Unorthodox martial artist? Let us follow the tracking party's report!"

He was one of the martial artists who had rushed over upon hearing of the attack on Mount Hua. A middle-aged Taoist wearing a Ziyang cap and a sash stamped with the characters for Qingcheng, his sharp, cat-like features looking anything but priestly.

"Ah, Hero Po — this is Daoist Go Jin, a second-generation disciple of the Qingcheng Sect."

"Po Un."

When Jang Hyeon-nam made the introduction, Seo Joo-cheon had no choice but to return a cupped-fist salute. Daoist Go Jin, however, ignored Po Un's greeting entirely.

"Young Hero Jang, this humble priest does not exchange names with Unorthodox martial artists."

At those words, Ham Cheon-yeong, standing behind Seo Joo-cheon, clenched his fists until the knuckles went white.

"Ah, well—"

Jang Hyeon-nam turned to address the Daoist.

"Daoist, Hero Po may be of the Unorthodox path, but he and his three sworn siblings fought a bloody battle against the demonic artists to aid Mount Hua. Without them, even Young Lady Baek Seol would have fallen into the enemy's hands. He may be Unorthodox, but he is a chivalrous hero."

"This humble priest suspects even that may have been their design."

Daoist Go Jin possessed a temperament that viscerally despised anyone who was not of the Orthodox path. After a martial junior of ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his had died at the hands of a demonic artist he encountered in the Jianghu, he had come to regard all heretical and demonic practitioners as targets for indiscriminate slaughter.

Had Dokgo Ho-in or Kang Chu-mi been present, blades would have been drawn the instant those words left his mouth. Ham Cheon-yeong, at least, was of a grave and measured nature, and he held himself in check for his eldest brother's sake. Even so, the aura rolling off him said he was a heartbeat away from drawing his great saber.

Then a woman's voice, full of steel, drifted from behind them.

"Daoist, you seem a man of rather strong prejudices."

A woman, openly rebuking Daoist Go Jin. At her appearance, a gleam of interest lit Seo Joo-cheon's eyes.

"From what I saw, I found no other intent in these people. I'll vouch for that as someone who fought alongside them."

The voice was a woman's, but the martial robes were a man's. Seo Joo-cheon studied her carefully, sifting through the novel's contents to place her. Being the original author did not mean he could identify a character at a glance. Unless he remembered every description he had written, a face alone was not enough to pin someone down. But in The Invincible Lay Disciple, there was only one woman who enjoyed dressing as a man.

Daoist Go Jin frowned at the sudden arrival, whose gender was difficult to discern — first because he was displeased that anyone had contradicted him, and second because the newcomer radiated a presence that could not be dismissed. Even the reasonably accomplished martial artists nearby had not dared to interfere with his conduct. The warriors who had fought alongside the Shaanxi Four Evils had wanted to refute his words, but they held their tongues out of regard for Qingcheng Sect's face. That someone would step forward and contradict him so directly, knowing full well he was a Qingcheng Daoist, meant this was no ordinary fighter.

Daoist Go Jin found it thoroughly irritating.

"And who might the benefactor be?"

His voice, naturally, did not come out kindly. Yet he could not openly display his anger, so he kept his expression composed and played the part of a refined Taoist. Looking at those around her, Seo Joo-cheon recognized the martial artists Jang Hyeon-nam had taken from the inn — the ones who had survived the battle.

"I had not intended to reveal myself, but after hearing Daoist Go Jin's words, I could not remain silent. I am Seol-yong of the Tang Clan."

He had guessed as much upon hearing the name, but he could not quite suppress the gasp that escaped him. Dang Seol-yong was a character bound to the protagonist by both fortunate and unfortunate ties — fundamentally well-disposed toward Jang Hyeon-nam, yet at times his actions threatened the Tang Clan, leaving her to wrestle with their relationship.

But this isn't when Dang Seol-yong is supposed to appear. Why has she come to Namcheon Inn?

To check whether anything had changed, he opened her Character Search.

Seo Joo-cheon felt a private wave of relief seeing that Dang Seol-yong's character — one he had put considerable care into designing — remained unchanged. It meant she was not so different from the Dang Seol-yong he knew. The plot of events was already shifting; if the characters themselves changed as well, it would be far harder to respond.

He had given her the epithet Poison-Seeking Dragon Princess to express that there was compassion in her nature. He had portrayed her as a woman of the Tang Clan who used poison to kill, yet also used medicine to save. The title had been carefully chosen to convey that she was as bold and outstanding as a dragon's daughter. Seo Joo-cheon had written her as a Tang Clan expert who, despite her youth, already possessed an epithet and ample experience of the Jianghu.

By seniority of generation, Dang Seol-yong had no business speaking so freely to Daoist Go Jin. But the Tang Clan's position in the martial world was unique to begin with, and as the clan head's daughter, there were few who would call her out for casually steamrolling a man of Go Jin's standing. Moreover, Seo Joo-cheon had written the Tang Clan as having one foot in the Orthodox martial world and the other planted squarely in the space between Orthodox and Unorthodox.

"Ah! So the benefactor is Young Lady Dang Seol-yong, the precious jewel of the Tang Clan."

Daoist Go Jin deliberately stressed "precious jewel" to emphasize that Dang Seol-yong was a woman.

What a narrow-minded temperament.

Seo Joo-cheon looked at Daoist Go Jin and sighed inwardly. This was the sort of character who latched onto the protagonist and served the readers a plate of dry sweet potato.

So why the hell is he latching onto me?

Meeting such a person in the flesh was exhausting beyond measure. He now understood perfectly why readers hated sweet-potato characters.

Next time I write something, I should think twice before creating such a vicious character. I feel sorry for the protagonist.

Authors created plenty of vicious characters to make the plot easier to drive forward, but looking at it now, that did not seem such a good method. Everything looks different once you've lived through it yourself.

Two martial artists stood behind her like bodyguards.

"From what I saw, these people fought with no regard for their own lives. I rather doubt even Daoist Go Jin could have fought as they did. Among those of you who just fought that bloody battle, I don't believe anyone can contradict me. Their exploits were that remarkable."

The words were cutting to the bone. At last, spurred by Dang Seol-yong, the martial artists who had taken part in the fighting began to speak.

"That's right. Who could call the Shaanxi Four Evils mere Unorthodox martial artists? To my eyes, they were chivalrous heroes."

"I've never heard of the Shaanxi Four Evils committing any evil deeds."

"If not for them, precious few of Mount Hua's Taoists would have survived today."

Sang Ryo delivered the last of those lines. With even Sang Ryo stepping forward in their defense, Daoist Go Jin's sword-like brows drew tighter and tighter.

"Even so, an Unorthodox martial artist is an Unorthodox martial artist. This humble priest knows that the Unorthodox path and the demonic path are not so different."

As Daoist Go Jin clung to his peculiar obstinacy, the martial artists around him frowned.

"Is there such a thing as an eternally Unorthodox or eternally Orthodox martial artist in the Jianghu? If an Orthodox man stabs someone in the back and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠kills them, is he truly Orthodox simply because his name is registered with an Orthodox sect? If an Unorthodox man acts with righteousness and chivalry, can you keep pointing a finger and calling him Unorthodox just because his name is registered with an Unorthodox faction? I do not believe a martial artist's background alone can define him completely. I cannot understand how a Daoist of such deep cultivation as yourself would fail ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠to grasp that. Does 'between Orthodox and Unorthodox' not mean that the two are not so vastly different?"

"What sophistry is this? This sect regards heretical and demonic paths as nothing more than targets for eradication."

The onlookers sighed as they watched Daoist Go Jin casually drag his entire sect into the argument. Seo Joo-cheon had no patience to watch a war of words that was clearly going nowhere.

"I will not deny that I am of the Unorthodox path. But my desire to aid Mount Hua is genuine. If Daoist Go Jin cannot believe that, so be it. I have no wish to argue. I simply fear that falling for Macheon Chong's ruse will cost us the chance to rescue Young Lady Baek."

"Which is precisely why I cannot understand why an Unorthodox martial ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠artist would worry about such a thing."

Daoist Go Jin grumbled to the very end.

"If that benefactor's words prove false and we go to the wrong place, missing our chance to save Benefactor Baek — who will take responsibility? Will Benefactor Dang?"

At Daoist Go Jin's attempt to shift the blame, even Dang Seol-yong had no ready reply. If anything happened to Baek I-jin, she could well end up shouldering the entire fault.

Convinced his authority had prevailed, Daoist Go Jin smiled in satisfaction and continued.

"Very well, let us hear it. Where does the benefactor believe they have gone? How does he propose to track them?"

Seo Joo-cheon knew that if he named Macheon Chong's Shaanxi hideout too precisely, they would immediately press him on how he knew. Daoist Go Jin's question was aimed in exactly that direction.

"As you know, our sworn brothers' epithet bears the name Shaanxi. That is no different from saying we know Shaanxi as well as our own home. And this region is tied to one of my brothers, so we had no choice but to come and go frequently. That is when I discovered it — a place where Macheon Chong's martial artists were particularly conspicuous."

The onlookers' attention fixed on Seo Joo-cheon. It was a reasonably persuasive way of putting it. But of course Daoist Go Jin's rebuttal followed.

"Unless they were fools, they would not have written 'Macheon Chong' across their foreheads. How does the benefactor claim to have recognized them?"

Go Jin was an unpleasant man, but the question itself was fair enough that no one frowned too deeply.

"When Macheon Chong's martial artists disguise themselves, they wear a single mark so they can recognize one another."

The crowd was drawn into Seo Joo-cheon's words.

I wrote this setting myself. Of course I know it.

With every eye on him, Seo Joo-cheon felt a quiet flicker of pleasure.

Was Po Un an attention-seeker, perhaps?

He continued with that thought in mind.

"They hang a silk thread of mixed black and crimson from their weapons."

A silk thread blending black and crimson — the secret mark that revealed a Macheon Chong martial artist's identity.

"Which brings us back to the question: how does the gentleman know this? Unless he is a spy."

Daoist Go Jin spoke with composure, but the question was an interrogation. At those words, the onlookers' faces tightened. Seo Joo-cheon looked at Daoist Go Jin and thought to himself:

If a reader saw this scene, they'd be leaving angry comments about how frustrating Daoist Go Jin is.

Meeting the so-called sweet-potato supporting character in real life made him feel like he was going to choke. The impulse to plant a fist in the man's face kept surging up unbidden. And on top of that, Po Un was Unorthodox.

"Daoist Go Jin. Could it be that you do not actually wish to rescue Young Lady Baek? You have done nothing but pick faults this entire time, and anyone would think as much. What grudge do you hold against Mount Hua that you would act this way? I had not intended to go this far, but it is all too easy to misunderstand. My words are perfectly reasonable, yet you refute them at every turn — if anything, it is your intentions that look suspicious. Let us hear the opinions of Mount Hua's Taoists."

Go Jin answered with a show of confidence.

"Very well. Let us hear them."

He swept a piercing gaze over Mount Hua's third-generation disciples, and not one of them stepped forward. Had a first- or second-generation disciple been present, they would have spoken up readily enough — but the third-generation disciples were far below him in seniority and dared not. The generational hierarchy of the Nine Great Sects was, in that sense, rather well maintained.

"A person of Mount Hua is right here."

A woman spoke, holding the stair railing as she descended from the second floor. It was Baek Seol.

"I also agree with Hero Po's words. Daoist Go Jin, Hero Po's reasoning is sound — why do you dismiss it so?"

Watching Baek Seol descend slowly, it was clear her strength had not fully returned. After recovering her senses, she had looked in on Dokgo Ho-in for a moment, then come downstairs to check on the Mount Hua disciples.