The Reeking Beggar's Grin
The beggar's stench was brutal. The clamor of the bustling street welcomed me with the ripe smell of humanity. Shabby folks in Chinese-style robes shuffled everywhere, screeching like banshees—enough to make me grimace. Every passerby reeked of body odor and sweat, turning my stomach, but hey, the well-off must be living large somewhere, so I clung to a sliver of hope.
Fresh off the boat from Mount Heng, I'd raced here to Yichang in Hubei Province. Head northwest toward Shaanxi, and I'd hit my destination: the Wudang Sect. Strolling through this wuxia world I'd only seen in games, I made a beeline for the nearest inn.
Inn scenes are wuxia 101.
Stepping into the massive inn under its looming signboard, the din cut off like a switch. Heads turned one by one, eyes rolling over me, and I couldn't help but bristle.
These primitive NPCs...
What the hell? Unease prickling, I stealthily glanced down—checked my robes, the sword case on my back. Nothing seemed off to me. Did they sense my master aura? You damn chinks.
As I scanned the room coolly, the waiter snapped out of it and hustled over.
"W-Welcome! Right this way to your seat."
His exaggerated bows led me to a corner table on the first floor. At least I wouldn't be the monkey in the zoo.
"One bowl of hot noodles, some braised pork, and a bottle of Zhuye Qing, please."
"Right away, sir!"
I pulled a silver ingot from my pouch and handed it over. The waiter turned obsequious in a flash. Hesitating a moment, I leaned in and whispered,
"Hey, do I look weird or something? Why's everyone sneaking peeks?"
He gawked like I'd asked the stupidest question ever.
"They're just stunned by your handsome features, sir. I thought you were a descendant of Prince Nanling myself!"
Only then did I notice the stares skewed heavier toward the women. I nodded sagely.
Can't help it if I exude peak master vibes.
The waiter bowed out with a "Please wait" and brought the Zhuye Qing. I flared my sleeves dramatically for that expert flair, pouring a cup. Cue the cinematic one-shot.
Tastes like shit. Fuck, beer's still king...
My face stayed stoic, of course. No reason to clown around when everyone's clocking me as the real deal. Half a bottle in to loosen up, and the waiter hustled back with the food, plate by plate. Visuals passed muster. The bowl's grime was iffy, but edible.
Academy drilled this kinda local flavor training...
It had that authentic vibe—not bad. Wasn't this basically a China tour?
Then, without a sound, a voice slithered into my ear.
"Heh heh heh. Hey, handsome young man. Got a question—spare a moment?"
Ignoring the cold sweat down my back, I turned slowly. There stood a ragged beggar elder.
Lone Hero Beggar Gu Yang-so...
The named NPC I'd ogled endlessly on forums prepping. Now I spotted the seven knots on his waist sash. I rose fluidly, cupping my fists in salute.
"Kang San, a lowly newcomer to the jianghu, greets the Lone Hero Beggar Gu Yang-so, living embodiment of righteous chivalry!"
Proclaiming it loud drew even more buzz from the gawking patrons.
"Hrrmph. Sly young pup, aren't ya? Heh heh."
There was a glint of fondness, but he was a main-story good guy. Suck up right, and his Beggar Clan intel network pays dividends.
"Not at all, sir. Though circumstances bar me from naming my sect, as a man of the orthodox path, honoring your deeds is only proper."
"Cut the 'sir' crap—call me elder."
"Yes, elder."
I flagged the waiter for another bottle and cup. Oil the throat of a good guy, and he'll spill something useful. Plus, that sneaky side-eye was pissing me off.
The waiter scampered back. I poured, and Gu Yang-so slammed his cup with gusto.
"Kaaah! Hits the spot!"
His filthy breath was nightmarish—past BO, straight to shit-stink vibes. Fuck. Swallowing bile across from him, he spoke up.
"Anyway, I said I had questions. Mind if I pry?"
"Fire away, elder."
"Ahem. Your words and bearing scream upright hero—no demonic vibes. But one thing baffles me."
I eyed him silently. Not holding my breath, mind you.
"What's your deal with Wudang? I'm no braggart, but as a Beggar Clan elder, I know every sect inside out. Never heard of a talent like you there."
I stifled a smirk. Classic original-game snag for anyone practicing Hyun-chung Jin-in's arts without clearance. Advanced techniques imprint their lineage in your moves. Fake it legit? You're a public enemy, beaten to death.
But I'm no pussy NPC.
My setting docs and cave proof would vouch for me. Weird they didn't think of that—story-fodder, maybe?
"As I said, circumstances prevent details. But Wudang's my destination."
"Hoh. Thirsty man seeks a well. Intriguing."
"Your guidance would etch my gratitude forever."
"Heh heh heh. Deal! Beyond martial ways, it's a beggar's calling. I'll tag along to Wudang and sort my curiosity myself."
Feeling the winds shift my way, I ordered more grub. We finished up, and I bolted the inn. He'd scarfed all the leftovers. No appetite left after that near-puke. Add it to Academy training—bet it'd boost my grades.
Out on the street, the breeze scattered his shit-stench. For my goals—and ditching that smell—I'd hustle. Nursing our thoughts, we ditched Yichang's main drag for the mountain path.
How far through the thick brush? Gu Yang-so, eyeing my leisurely pace sans lightness skill, piped up.
"Say, you planning to stroll all the way? You move like a first-rate expert—why not speed it up? That sword case too; better hustle, no?"
"Apologies, elder, but I've no lightness skill to speak of."
"Eh? First-rate martial arts, zero qinggong? Philistine!"
"Doesn't that make it more fun?"
He roared with laughter at my gall. Grinning back, we pressed up the trail toward Mount Wudang.
Ah... my nose is numb.
I dismissed the floating character window and poked the campfire. En route to Wudang with Gu Yang-so, I'd used my leftover skill enhancement ticket on Sipdan-geum. Upping it to Rank 2 cost a whopping 1000 points. Hoard till Rank Master? Nah, hoarders get fucked.
Plus, flashing high-level arts'll smooth my Wudang intro.
Unlike my first go, a faint headache bloomed, and the advanced finger forms danced instinctively in my mind. Felt like 60 stats to nail the first form.
60 stats... B-rank hunter peak realm, then.
Worth it—art that clashed with the Heavenly Demon. High barrier. Fiddling endlessly, Gu Yang-so across the fire gaped at my hands.
"Hoh! Finger of Infinite Strength—reeks of Wudang essence. Sudden enlightenment?"
I'd masked my aura, but he was a superb expert eyeing Fire Realm. Chilling how he clocked the qi in my gestures. One mood flip, and this beggar could end me. What kinda beggar is a homeless killer?
"Yes. A small insight, perhaps."
"Small? Insight's insight—warriors celebrate all!"
Chuckling at his cackle, I sighed softly and dumped jerky, dried veggies, and water into the pot over the fire. I'd handled meals the whole trip. Expectations for a beggar? Zero.
"That iron pot—where'd you snag it? Looks like a master smith's pride."
Beggar blood? He was eyeing my pot. True beggar vibes! He'd ogled it all camp; now using it, he fiddled his own gourd enviously. Pot shits the bed compared to this. Has a handle... boils stuff... primitive cavemen.
"Ah, it's called a 'pressure cooker.' Traded with a Western merchant I helped."
"Oho... Western goods, eh."
"Since we're traveling together by fate, take it if you like."
"Ooooh! For real?!"
"Of course."
Cheap pot for affinity points? Win. Scooping into bowls, he poked and praised nonstop. Then, ashamed of his "righteous elder" slip, he cleared his throat.
"Ahem! You gifted me this 'pressure cooker,' so as jianghu senior, I'll grant a humble request. Anything on your mind?"
Beggar Clan elder knew tons—strutting like it. Annoying. Time to dunk on my nasal nemesis?
"Hm... If I may be bold, elder—one favor?"
"Shoot! I'll handle most anything."
"As you know, circumstances kept me from lightness skills. But who knows the future? Beggar Clan's qinggong is famed top-tier. I'd love to witness it firsthand."
Yeah. Time for some freebie arts.