Act with Righteousness in Mind
To a casual observer, Goegelgae looked like nothing more than a cranky, ill-tempered, incompetent, and shabby old man. While most of those descriptors were entirely accurate, incompetence was the sole exception. He was far from useless. The seven knots hanging from his waist were not won in a gamble; he was an elder of the Beggars' Sect. True to his moniker, the "Eccentric Beggar," his martial arts and keen eye were unmatched in the Jianghu. He was a seasoned intelligence agent who knew how to weaponize his own hasty and eccentric temperament to pry information from others.
And the target of this seasoned agent's scrutiny was none other than the girl sitting right in front of him.
How incredibly peculiar.
They sat close, separated only by a table laden with food. Though Goegelgae had readily accepted her hospitality and sat down, something about her was grating against his instincts. The problem was, he couldn't put his finger on what it was. It was from that moment that Goegelgae began to scrutinize her every detail.
"Is it not to your liking?" the girl asked, reaching her chopsticks toward a freshwater fish roughly the size of her own head. It had been deep-fried whole and smothered in a stir-fried sauce of various vegetables and spices. Sensing she was ready to order something else at a moment's notice, Goegelgae quickly stopped her.
"Bwahaha! Nonsense. It might be a bit lacking for an esteemed elder like myself, but this is decent enough, so do not fret."
Of course, his words were far from polite.
The girl paused mid-movement. Goegelgae deliberately provoked her, adopting the most obnoxious, condescending attitude he could muster. He even threw in a smirk, baring his yellow teeth for good measure.
Where's your breaking point? Let's see if you let this slide too.
She wore a black robe over martial attire, and her hair cascaded all the way down to her waist. Despite being clad entirely in black, she didn't look dreary in the slightest. With a slender, deer-like neck and a petite face, her delicate yet striking features and porcelain-white skin made her look like a doll. Even wrapped in layers of dark fabric, her presence was impossible to ignore.
"Is she a young lady from a noble house?"
"Incredible. I can smell the food from all the way over here."
"She must be as kind-hearted as she is beautiful."
If that had been all, Goegelgae would have thought of her just like the other patrons stealing glances at their table. He would have dismissed it as the simple charity of a sheltered noble lady. But...
That is definitely a sword.
Even as he smacked his lips loudly, his sharp eyes analyzed her. While the other patrons were busy ogling the fit of her clothes and the soft curve of her chest, Goegelgae had immediately looked for her weapons. Those who wielded long weapons like spears or staffs usually carried them separately or had secondary armaments. Those who used hidden weapons or poison wore garments with numerous sleeves and pockets, always keeping one hand concealed. Of course, the greater the master, the more meticulously they managed these subtle details, but his companion seemed to have no intention of hiding anything. A sword was loosely concealed beneath her robe, the distinct shape of its hilt clearly visible through the fabric.
From that moment, Goegelgae's mind began to race.
Could it be for self-defense? But there are no calluses from holding a sword. Her movements are disciplined, like a martial artist's. But then again, that could just be the refined posture of a well-bred lady. But would such a lady travel without guards? Maybe she ran away from home?
No clear answer emerged. That was why he deliberately behaved rudely—to provoke her and uncover her true identity. It was a classic provocation tactic. People naturally leaked more information when emotional, and anger was far more effective and immediate than sorrow or joy.
"I am glad to hear that," she replied, simply offering a faint smile.
Her spine remained perfectly straight, and her shoulders sloped in a graceful, gentle curve. She continued her meal without showing even a flicker of agitation.
And yet, those eyes of hers are subtly observing this old man.
Every time she chose her next bite or raised her cup to sip her tea, those blue eyes swept over Goegelgae. She was clearly reading his expressions.
She's trying to act experienced, but she still reeks of greenness.
She wasn't a professional scout. Perhaps a curious child of a prestigious clan or a prominent martial family? He tried to narrow down the possibilities, but no names came to mind.
With looks like that, even if she were from the imperial family, rumors would have spread long ago.
The gossips of the Jianghu loved nothing more than giving titles and ranking people. They constantly kept their eyes peeled for handsome men and beautiful women to group into titles like the "Four Flowers of the Murim" or the "Five Dragons and Seven Phoenixes." How could those vultures have missed a girl like this?
It's not like she fell from the sky.
Especially those eyes. Those sapphire-like eyes, radiating a faint chill, were so striking that anyone who saw them once would never forget them. Could it be some unique ocular technique?
As Goegelgae ransacked his memories, an uninvited guest interrupted.
"Whoops! Young lady, that is not for eating. It is merely a garnish."
The girl, who had been about to pop a carrot carved into the shape of a flower into her mouth, quietly set it back down on her plate. She began turning the garnish over with her chopsticks, lifting it up and putting it down as if to silently protest that she had only been admiring it. The chopsticks themselves looked rather embarrassed.
"Ahem. Forgive my sudden intrusion, but you seemed to be having such a quiet, lonely meal." The man cleared his throat and smoothly changed the subject.
"What is your business?" she asked in a quiet voice.
Taking her calm tone as a sign that she wasn't offended, the middle-aged man let out a hearty laugh.
"Young lady, I am a man who makes a living by selling stories. Seeing how generously you bestowed charity upon this old beggar, I figured you might be willing to buy one of my tales, which is why I took the liberty of joining you."
A storyteller.
True to his kind—nomadic folk who lived by their wits and silver tongues—the man chattered away as he naturally slid his rear onto a seat. However, the girl's reaction was unexpected. She, who had remained completely unfazed by Goegelgae's constant prodding, actually showed interest in the storyteller's words.
"Stories?"
"Indeed! I can tell you tales of great heroes that you won't easily hear anywhere else."
He rattled off several topics: the Flying Swallow Sword, who had embarked on a dueling journey all the way from Liaoning to Shaanxi; the friendship and romance between the successors of Mount Hua Sect's Sword and Qi Factions; and the legendary battle where the Sword Empress defeated a hundred swordsmen of the Juksan Sect to obtain a divine medicine.
At his words, the girl's eyes flashed with interest. Her expression was undeniably captivated. Even the other patrons, who had been stealing glances, began to lean in to listen. Grinning at his successful hook, the storyteller said,
"If you would kindly treat me to a bottle of liquor and a side dish, I will gladly unpack my bag of stories for you."
"Ahem."
But Goegelgae, true to his cranky nature, couldn't stand to see someone else succeed. He cleared his throat loudly, cutting the man off.
"My, I had no idea a young lady would be so interested in the tales of the Murim."
Aha, she's sensitive about being called young.
The girl's brow furrowed sharply at the words "young lady." However, she seemed genuinely interested in the topic, turning her head away from the storyteller to look at Goegelgae.
"Yes. If it is a tale of chivalrous heroes... I am interested."
"Hey, old man. If you received charity, you should just eat your food quietly," the storyteller grumbled, glaring at him.
"Bwahaha!"
Goegelgae burst into a raspy laugh. As he did, he deliberately twisted his body to reveal the patched, tattered cloth hanging from his waist. It was a thoroughly calculated move.
The storyteller, who had been glaring at Goegelgae, couldn't help but notice the cloth. As a man who made his living selling tales of the Murim, there was no way he wouldn't recognize what it represented. The man's jaw dropped in sheer shock.
Watching him, Goegelgae shrugged his shoulders, his yellow teeth gleaming in triumph.
"A... an elder of the Beggars' Sect! Forgive me, I failed to recognize your esteemed self."
"Nonsense. As you said, I have received charity. It is only right that this old beggar unpacks his own bag of stories to pay for his meal. Why should you be sorry?"
Even as he spoke, Goegelgae kept his eyes fixed on the girl. She had shown interest in the Murim, yet she hadn't asked any detailed questions, suggesting she already possessed some level of knowledge.
Surely she will react to the title of Beggars' Sect Elder.
But she didn't.
The girl simply sipped her tea with an air of calm indifference. Her blue eyes remained tranquil, showing no signs of admiration or awe—only a pure, simple curiosity for the stories.
"Tsk. A hero, you say. A hero..."
Prompted by her expectant gaze silently urging him to begin, Goegelgae finally opened his mouth.
"That was highly entertaining," Yoo Jeong said.
It wasn't mere politeness. Goegelgae's stories were more than enough to captivate him, and the old beggar's storytelling skills were truly dazzling. Even the sidelined storyteller had leaned in to listen intently. Though the occasional shower of dandruff and the old man's bad breath were hard to endure, the tales were well worth the discomfort. Especially one in particular.
And here you always told me a martial artist must remain calm at all times.
Hearing stories of his master from someone else's mouth was a novel experience. Perhaps she had wanted to appear as a cool, noble martial artist to her disciple. When Goegelgae described how she had broken the swords of a hundred martial artists and looked down upon them with haughty disdain, the surrounding patrons gasped in admiration, but Yoo Jeong had to bite his lip to keep from laughing. The tales of his master's journeys that he had heard directly from her were always filled with calm and cold rationality, making this dramatic rendition feel like an entirely different story.
Yoo Jeong drained the last drop of his tea and stood up. Quite a bit of time had passed, and he needed to check on the boat.
"Hold on a moment," Goegelgae called out, stopping him.
The old beggar had been scrutinizing Yoo Jeong from the very beginning. In fact, that was precisely why Yoo Jeong had treated him to a meal in the first place. He had harbored a small curiosity: would this elder of the Beggars' Sect, who had once met Yoo Jeong as a man, be able to recognize any trace of him now? Perhaps it was also a small, desperate struggle of Yoo Jeong's, who was growing weary of the constant stares he received as a woman.
But the old man had noticed nothing.
The private wager was over. Since the stories were finished, Yoo Jeong saw no reason to linger any longer. So, when Goegelgae's hand suddenly shot out in a grappling technique toward his wrist, Yoo Jeong reflexively dodged it.
Ah, shoot.
His body had moved faster than his mind. He regretted it instantly, but Goegelgae's eyes were already flashing with realization.
"Well, well, look at this."
Having finally identified the source of the grating sensation he had felt all along, Goegelgae sprang up from his seat and lunged forward in earnest. His fingers curved like eagle talons as his grappling hand reached out to seize Yoo Jeong. The sight of that hand, glistening with grease from the food and years of accumulated grime, filled Yoo Jeong with pure disgust. He continuously stepped back, fluidly evading the grasp.
Whoosh! Whoosh!
Goegelgae's hands sliced through the air. As his swift strikes targeted Yoo Jeong's neck, wrists, and chest, the onlookers in the tavern gasped, their hearts leaping into their throats. Yet, as Yoo Jeong stepped lightly, dodging every single strike as if performing a graceful dance without letting the old man's fingers brush him even once, the crowd let out collective sighs of relief.
"I heard the Beggars' Sect was composed of righteous and chivalrous souls. Are you repaying my kindness with hostility?" Yoo Jeong asked, furrowing his delicate brow.
Goegelgae let out a raspy chuckle. "Bwahaha! Didn't I already pay for my meal with my stories?"
With a swift kick of his foot, Goegelgae flipped his staff up from the floor and caught it. Grinning, he continued, "Now, I'm going to satisfy my curiosity, and who's going to stop me?"
"You are utterly hopeless."
"Bwahaha! Hearing such words from a pretty young girl has a charm of its own."
Yoo Jeong felt a wave of genuine disgust wash over him. Just as his face contorted in revulsion, a man's voice suddenly boomed through the tavern.
"Stop right there!"
Yoo Jeong, Goegelgae, and every single patron in the tavern turned their eyes toward the source of the voice. None of them could hide their astonishment.
"A Kunlun Slave?"
Though he wore martial attire and spoke fluent Han, his skin was dark and his hair was tightly curled. He was, without a doubt, a Kunlun Slave.
Goegelgae let out a soft exclamation.
"I heard the Lord of the Byeok Clan took in a peculiar adopted son. So, that would be you."
"Indeed! My father is Byeok Seo-hwang, and I am Byeok Sogun!"
"Sogun? Well, you certainly speak the language well enough, but you seem to have skipped your lessons on manners." Goegelgae pointed his staff at the youth.
However, Byeok Sogun did not back down. Instead, he puffed out his chest and declared proudly, "How can I treat someone who bullies a helpless woman as an elder?"
"Bwahaha! Ha! So, you fancy yourself a hero stepping forward to rescue a damsel in distress?"
"I would not dare call myself a hero, but it is true that I cannot stand by and watch injustice unfold."
Byeok Sogun strode forward confidently, confronting Goegelgae. Contrary to his delicate-sounding name, Sogun, his physique was massive and sturdy; when he stood close, Goegelgae barely reached his shoulders. As he walked past, several patrons tried to hold him back, whispering that his opponent was a master of the Beggars' Sect and that he should stay out of it.
But Sogun ignored them, declaring, "When it comes to stopping injustice and upholding righteousness, what does the Beggars' Sect or age have to do with anything?"
Yoo Jeong had suddenly been relegated to a mere bystander. However, he didn't leave. Instead, he watched the two with genuine amusement. He had been deeply contemplating the meaning of righteousness lately. Having just listened to tales of chivalrous heroes, the clash between this self-proclaimed champion of justice and Goegelgae was highly intriguing.
"Very well. Do you intend to stop me with those fists of yours?"
"Indeed. The Byeok Clan's Thunderbolt Divine Art is unmatched under heaven. I shall stop you with this."
At Sogun's proud declaration, Goegelgae clicked his tongue. "Setting aside the sheer foolishness of blabbing about your own martial arts to an enemy... isn't that technique incomplete because some of its oral formulas were lost?"
"That is not true!"
Thumping his chest twice, Sogun took a martial stance. "The Thunderbolt Divine Art is absolutely—urgh!"
Perhaps his skills didn't quite match his bravado. With a casual flick of Goegelgae's staff, Sogun was struck squarely on his fainting pressure point. His eyes rolled back, and he collapsed.
Leaving the massive youth to crash to the floor with a loud thud, Goegelgae clicked his tongue. "Tsk, tsk. These heroic tales always end up ruining kids these days."
Having dispatched Sogun with a single strike to his fainting pressure point, Goegelgae turned back toward Yoo Jeong.
But the only thing that met his gaze was the hilt of a sword.
"Wait, you, that—"
He managed only three words before his voice was cut short.
Yoo Jeong had gripped the scabbard and thrust the sword forward like a staff, striking Goegelgae squarely on his fainting pressure point.
Just as he had subdued Byeok Sogun, Goegelgae was instantly incapacitated by Yoo Jeong in the exact same manner. His limp body collapsed right on top of Sogun.