Chapter 87
Chapter 87
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 87
Chapter Title: Martial Prowess (8)
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She watched the Samsu Pavilion from a distance.
Even before the sun had set, the Samsu Pavilion was already a drunken revelry. Noisy clamor echoed in all directions.
Her hearing had been sharp even before drinking her blood.
The Haewu Gang's thugs were slyly goading the Shanghai Guild and Azure Robe Sect members while downing drinks.
All it would take was hopping over the wall right in front. Nothing to fear there.
The Shanghai Guild and Azure Robe Sect thugs looked tempted but hesitant. Their gangs weren't even worthy of being called proper martial sects. Even if two or three banded together, it was the same. No matter how many gathered, the moment they faced a real master, they'd be eyeing each other to see who fled first.
'Is the voice's effect still lingering, or have they lost its power but still believe what was said?'
Cheonwi couldn't tell the difference.
There was a crucial requirement for the Great Bewitchment Technique beyond merely ensnaring the target.
It was not letting those around notice the victim had been bewitched.
The subject couldn't change drastically from their usual self. The moment bystanders sensed something off, the bewitchment lost much of its value.
The key was how natural it seemed.
And the Haewu Gang was faithfully carrying out Cheonwi's orders.
Among Songgang's three major factions, the Haewu Gang committed the most illicit deeds. That's why it had become Cheonwi's target. Even if the Haewu Gang's leader, Hwang Jo, scaled the walls of a central official's estate, people would just think, 'As expected of that madman,' and understand.
But the other two factions were different.
The Shanghai Guild was the oldest among the three, passed down through three generations of blood heirs. Its new leader, Jo Hwa, was young and paid no heed to the Haewu Gang's ravings. He just seemed curious about what was unfolding. The Azure Robe Sect's sect leader, Go Yeong, was a bit more proactive by comparison. He was the oldest of the three and the greediest.
Cheonwi sat on a stump in the distance where the Samsu Pavilion was visible, listening to the voices drifting from it as if right beside her. Everyone was already drunk, their voices raised high. No need to strain her hearing; it all came clearly.
After listening for a while, she stood up.
She knew plenty about how things were playing out. This was good enough. Even if the Shanghai Guild and Azure Robe Sect got hooked right away and charged in tomorrow, it wouldn't be a problem.
What mattered was the estate overseers' reaction.
The estate's maids, servants, and slaves must have noticed strange noises by now. If any were sharp-witted, they'd report to the capital headquarters that villains were carousing and plotting right under the villa's nose, and the Chae Family headquarters ought to take swift measures.
Just maintain this state until then.
Cheonwi moved toward the Samsu Pavilion.
She just needed to check how much power her voice still held. Not difficult. Just sniff for the scent of obedience.
No need to go inside. Passing by the entrance would suffice.
It was then, as Cheonwi reached right in front of the Samsu Pavilion.
The sun was setting.
Casting a long shadow, a man strode from the opposite direction.
Cheonwi's eyes, hidden beneath her bamboo hat, widened in shock.
It was astonishing.
Shocking, even.
He wore shabby clothes in the guise of a fisherman. His newly donned straw sandals were frayed in places, nearly bare feet.
The strongest warrior she'd seen lately.
His skin was sun-bronzed brown, his hair half-gray. Like most masters, his age was hard to guess. He could be in his forties or sixties. His body was covered in muscles firmer than a twenty-year-old's, but deep wrinkles creased his face.
The man walked swiftly, almost running, and stopped before the Samsu Pavilion's entrance. He glanced back at Cheonwi once.
His gaze was like a treasured sword.
Even facing the Shadow Death Emissary hadn't felt like this. For a moment, her heart clenched.
After that brief look at Cheonwi, he turned straight toward the Samsu Pavilion.
It felt like a blade tip grazing her nape before vanishing.
He roughly flung open the door.
Thud.
The man stepped one foot inside the Samsu Pavilion.
In an instant, the boisterous pavilion fell silent.
From the noisy din vanishing to dead quiet flowing in, it took only as long as it took the man to sweep his gaze left and right.
"What the hell is this?"
The man said lowly.
No one uttered a word.
Cheonwi caught the scents of unease and fear.
She learned one more fact.
The dominance of Cheonwi's voice could be overridden by stronger emotions. The scent of obedience was fading from Hwang Jo.
"Bi, Bi Elder. It's just..."
The elderly Azure Robe Sect Leader Go Yeong bowed his head obsequiously. Anyone could see Go Yeong looked older than the man. But his attitude was the opposite. He spoke as if serving a much senior elder, words cautious.
"Forgot whose estate is next door?"
"Chae, Chae Family..."
"And?"
"Th-that Haewu Gang's Hwang Jo..."
"You all want to die like dogs?"
The man's tone remained low. Yet it rang like thunder echoing through the entire Samsu Pavilion.
"You."
The man strode inside.
Drunks always claim the head seat. Hwang Jo sat in the innermost prime spot.
"Bi Elder, no, Peng Bi."
Hwang Jo scrambled to his feet.
"H-hey, booze, booze!"
He snatched a bottle from his underlings, hastily set down a cup, and poured.
"Elder, have a drink on me...!"
Crash! Shatter!
The gray-haired man seized Hwang Jo's head and smashed it into the table.
The cup shattered, slicing Hwang Jo's face and forehead. Despite practicing martial arts, he showed no reaction. Blood from his face dyed the wrecked table red.
"What did I tell you?"
"Y-you, Elder..."
"I told you to know your place, didn't I?"
"Y-yes, you did."
"No funny business."
"Y-yes."
"Quiet."
"Yes, Elder."
Hwang Jo couldn't move a muscle.
Finally, the man released his grip on Hwang Jo's head. Even after the pressure lifted, Hwang Jo kept his face planted on the table, unable to rise.
The man looked around.
Over thirty fierce-looking thugs, yet none met his eyes. They kept gazes downcast, mouths shut.
The man turned.
As he walked out of the Samsu Pavilion, everyone held their breath.
Cheonwi couldn't tear her eyes from the man.
The man emerged from the Samsu Pavilion. He glared at Cheonwi.
"You."
His sun-bronzed fingertip pointed at Cheonwi.
"Come with me."
No choice.
She'd missed her chance to flee. No, fleeing wouldn't have mattered.
The gray-haired man led the way down the path.
Cheonwi followed behind.
After the man and Cheonwi vanished into the distance, the fierce thugs emerged one by one from the Samsu Pavilion. They moved cautiously, glancing about warily.
"He's gone?"
"He's really gone?"
"Whew. Fuck."
"Fuck, that scared me."
They were the Shanghai Guild and Azure Robe Sect crowds.
"No clue what's going on here."
Shanghai Guild Leader Jo Hwa wore flashy clothes, his face bright and handsome. And young. The Shanghai Guild ran taverns, gambling dens, and usury. A typical unorthodox gang sucking the common folk dry. Jo Hwa didn't look the part of such a gang boss.
"Let's bail."
"Yes, brother!"
Though Jo Hwa didn't look it, his lackeys were without exception rough-looking. Faces suited for beating and threatening people.
The Shanghai Guild men left first.
"Us too."
Next, at old Azure Robe Sect Leader Go Yeong's words, a pack of burly men departed the Samsu Pavilion.
And then.
Silence fell inside the Samsu Pavilion.
Underlings bustled, wiping Hwang Jo's face and bandaging it.
"Booze."
Hwang Jo said.
One underling brought a bottle. A big one.
"Let's drink again."
"Huh?"
"Drink! Fuck!"
Hwang Jo's underlings feared Bi Elder. But with him gone, Hwang Jo was the scariest. The underlings cleared the tables, prodded the owner, and brought out fresh drinks.
"Pour the cups! We'll drown today's humiliation in booze!"
Hwang Jo bellowed heartily.
Red glint in his eyes. He didn't look sane.
His underlings saw it as typical Hwang Jo.
"Ooh, boss!"
"Even after that terrifying old man!"
"Boss is a true hero of the world!"
None of them were sane.
"Call in more from the house!"
"Drink till we drop!!"
The booze flowed.
The Samsu Pavilion grew noisy once more.
It was bizarre.
Sun set, moon rose. The Samsu Pavilion's clamor scaled the estate walls late into the night.
A strange night.
* * *
Though the Iron-Blooded Emperor was setting the Ming Empire straight, for the common folk, fists still ruled closer than laws.
Where people lived, interests arose. Organizations clinging to those interests existed everywhere people did. Big cities with big money spawned big unorthodox gangs vying for dominance; remote fringes birthed small factions running amok.
Rural outfits lacked any system.
Most lasted a dozen years at best; usually just years or months before vanishing. A faction like the three-generation Shanghai Guild was exceedingly rare. Even the Haewu Gang, which had seized Haewu Harbor in Songgang with unprecedented madness and brutality, had formally established itself only four years ago. Whether a few in one region, these factions fought and mingled, finding their own order amid the chaos.
Such things happened occasionally.
Into those backwaters, where groups blundered along on their own, an uninvited master would drift in and settle.
Hiding their identity on the run, returning to roots in old age, or retiring from fierce jianghu for a quiet life—such folk existed. Plenty, even.
When such a person took root in an ill-fitting place, the existing order crumbled, and storms brewed.
Ordinary masters seeking a peaceful retirement could seize local control effortlessly. Simple method: visit troublemakers and deliver overwhelming violence. No need to hunt down every faction. Smashing one made the rest bow automatically. Their skills were all middling anyway.