The Black Hand Reaches Out (3)
Yeun-gak was a hall deep within the Murim Alliance, reserved exclusively for esteemed guests. Among the Alliance's distinguished visitors—classified as third-grade, second-grade, first-grade, or special-grade—only those of special-grade status were permitted entry. Given its exclusivity, only a select few could set foot inside. For someone like Baek Su-gyeong, whose influence rippled across the jianghu, gaining access wasn't all that surprising.
"What a treat."
Savoring a spoonful of the refreshingly shaved ice, Baek Su-gyeong gazed out the window. Murim-style bing-su lacked the modern syrups or jellies, but it was topped with a generous mix of red bean paste and sweet rice porridge, finished off with rice cakes and finely diced fruit. The crisp, slightly frozen fruit paired perfectly with the soft, creamy red beans and sweet honey, making it the ultimate summer refresher. Such delicacies were rare finds, available only at high-end inns or taverns—and unseen in Wuan, so it must be a Xuchang trend.
Clink.
"Is the bing-su to your liking?"
Turning at the sound of the bowl being set down, Baek Su-gyeong spotted Kang Yu-pyeong.
"Kang Daehyeop."
"I told you to treat me casually."
"How could I?"
Baek Su-gyeong managed a wry smile. His outburst had been impulsive, but raging at a murim warrior would be suicidal. The psychological pressure had built up, leading to that explosion in front of Jang Hyo-un and Jegal Yu—but if they hadn't understood, he'd be a corpse right there. The thought sent a chill down his neck.
I did something stupid.
Crunch. Another spoonful cleared his mind a bit. Spoon still in his mouth, Baek Su-gyeong let out a soft sigh.
"You seem deep in thought."
"Yeah, something like that."
He'd already outlined the next volume's plot in his head, jotting notes in a book to capture ideas and refine the structure. Sure, there'd been distractions, but nothing could halt his creativity.
"Today, several elders requested private audiences, but the military affairs department rejected them all."
"I see."
Yeun-gak had no maids during Baek Su-gyeong's stay—not by default, but because maids had once been used to slip him bribes and improper requests. After he'd recoiled and driven them off, Jang Hyo-un had promised no maids while he resided there.
Placing his spoon atop the empty bowl, Baek Su-gyeong said, "All I want is to focus on writing, but the environment makes it so damn hard."
"With more people seeking you out in the future, you seem overly burdened."
"...I just want to live normally. Normally."
Kang Yu-pyeong chuckled at the familiar refrain—it was Baek Su-gyeong's constant mantra. Yet everyone in the Alliance knew he was no ordinary man. Disciples following techniques from Wudang Sword Hero were breaking through left and right. Kang Yu-pyeong himself was among them.
"But haven't you already enlightened countless people through Wudang Sword Hero?"
"That's not me giving anything. They figured it out themselves."
Baek Su-gyeong meant it sincerely, but Kang took it as humility from a hidden master of profound arts. If Baek Su-gyeong knew, he'd bolt from the Alliance on the spot.
"Truly humble."
"Haha... haa...."
His laugh trailed into a sigh. With this level of popularity, copycats and rip-offs should be popping up soon.
Honestly, Wudang Sword Hero was little more than paid Wudang propaganda. No different from writing to promote a faction for cash. In the modern world, it'd be labeled propaganda and attract terrorists. The chill returned.
The Demonic Cult or unorthodox sects might produce something similar. And with Haomen already reaching out... it'll move fast.
His mind cooled like ice in a cave. With Wudang Sword Hero's craze, the Demonic Cult or evil factions could use novels to rally forces. Writers taking commissions to glorify specific sects weren't impossible.
Baek Su-gyeong pressed his temples. This could escalate to the World's Greatest Novel Tournament.
A stretch? Maybe, but given his fame, not impossible. Knockoffs took time to catch originals, but once they gained traction, they could crush them. No guarantee he wouldn't be the victim.
Kang Yu-pyeong picked up the bowl. "I'll take this."
"Thanks."
"If you're stepping out, let me know now."
"If not here, I'll be strolling Biyeon. Come find me there."
"Understood."
Watching Kang Yu-pyeong's retreating footsteps, Baek Su-gyeong stood. He'd come too far from ordinary life in too short a time.
"Even if I don't want to get tangled, being linked to Wudang and the Alliance means no normal life."
As his books' weight in the jianghu grew, so did his value. Terrifying, yet anticipated. The contradictory thrill twisted into a bitter smile.
"Guess I have to accept it."
Like an uncontrollable blaze, fighting it would only burn him. Extinguish it? No—just char himself facing death. His writer's life bred needless sentimentality.
"Speaking of which, Namgung Sega...."
Among tournament participants, Namgung Sega's Jade Sword Flower was entering. The epithet suggested a woman. Complex thoughts shadowed Baek Su-gyeong's steps toward Biyeon.
Meeting Namgung warriors might get me stabbed.
The clash highlighting Namgung Sega's flaws, their sacrifice to Cheonghong Mujigeom—would their own accept it? His head spun.
"This is maddening."
Another habit forming.
***
"How are you feeling, Su-gyeong seonsaeng?"
"Couldn't be better."
On tournament day, Baek Su-gyeong sat with Jang Hyo-un and Jegal Yu in the VIP seats overlooking the arena. He'd have preferred closer, but Jegal Yu's warning about stray sword energy fragments changed his mind.
Surveying the packed crowd, Baek Su-gyeong smiled wryly. "Never imagined this many people."
"Haha, think of it as love for Wudang Sword Hero."
Jegal Yu's words didn't erase his smile. "I can't follow the experts' fights at all."
"Haha...."
Jang Hyo-un and Jegal Yu forced laughs, assuming his humility. How could the man whose novels enlightened the Alliance leader fail to track lesser duels? But Baek Su-gyeong was dying inside.
Something whooshes by with a metallic screech. At this rate...
Bitter taste. His hard-earned appraisal skill, forged without talent, felt worthless before true murim. Like talentless characters in wuxia novels hitting that wall.
He massaged his eyelids. Eye strain eased a bit.
Eyes are too tired. Learn some eye technique?
Silly thought. He refocused. Famous names from Jang and Jegal meant nothing to him. Only Namgung Sega's treasured Jade Sword Flower, Namgung So-min, caught his eye.
Jang Hyo-un spoke. "Namgung Sega's momentum is fierce. Jade Sword Flower and Wudang's Cheongmyeong—these two will shine brightest."
"Even the Alliance leader eyes them?"
"Of course, military strategist."
Jegal Yu's quip drew Jang's smile. "Qingcheng and Huashan's prodigies are impressive too. Shaolin won't yield...."
"They see it as a golden opportunity."
Jegal Yu glanced at Baek Su-gyeong. Without his strategist role, he'd join the fray. Alliance warriors breaking through via Wudang Sword Hero—not just the leader. And Cheongmyeong had recreated Jin-un's Samcheong Mugyeokgeom.
Astonishing talent.
"But the matchup everyone's waiting for is Jade Sword Flower versus Cheongmyeong dojjaeng. What say you, Su-gyeong seonsaeng?"
"Well...."
Closing his book, Baek Su-gyeong replied, "Cheongmyeong dojjaeng's prowess is incredible, but Qingcheng and Huashan warriors will stand out too."
"Ho. You differ from our strategist?"
Baek Su-gyeong's wry smile hid the truth: their lower levels helped him visualize fights for his writing. No deeper intent.
"Just... helpful to me."
Light dawned in Jang and Jegal's eyes.
—Su-gyeong seonsaeng says that, so...
—Qingcheng and Huashan sent nurtured prodigies. He sees jewels we missed.
—Hmm, fortune favors Huashan and Qingcheng.
As their misconceptions soared, Cheongmyeong ascended the stage. A Wudang disciple wielding two swords—oddity turned supremacy, manifesting fictional Samcheong Mugyeokgeom.
Baek Su-gyeong's shock at its debut was indescribable.
Never thought anyone would actually create Samcheong Mugyeokgeom....
Cheongmyeong dispatched his foe effortlessly. Baek Su-gyeong chuckled hollowly.
Samcheong Mugyeokgeom. True name: Samcheong Mugyeokgeom-hye. Wudang's sole sword art for three blades—not twin—based on Samcheonggeom of Sangcheong, Okcheong, Taecheong. Jin-un's unique style, powered by his Ssangryeong Mugyeokjingi, birthing invincible Cheonghong sword.
He'd expected admirers, not a monster inventing it anew.
"Winner: Cheongmyeong!!"
Massaging his stiff neck at the late announcement, Baek Su-gyeong felt adaptation to shocks—but murim company still intimidated, body aching in protest.
Not a place for long stays.
Tournament spanned three days; this first day's finale. Bidding Jang and Jegal farewell, he rose, rubbing shoulders. Kang Yu-pyeong shadowed him silently toward Yeun-gak.
Baek Su-gyeong groaned. "Aigoo, my poor body. Gonna die, gonna die."
"Shall I give that massage again?"
"I'd be grateful."
Kang grinned. "If it helps, seonsaeng."
"Without you, I'd be one big knot. Oh, thinking of strolling Xuchang streets tonight."
"Can't go alone, seonsaeng."
"Haha, cut me some slack. These shadows everywhere are exhausting."
A hidden Divine Eye Pavilion agent flinched nearby. Despite orders, this man's senses were unreal—detecting perfect stealth via Jamheo Guhwan-gong.
Need more caution. Report to the strategist first.
The agent vanished, a faint wind fading. Baek Su-gyeong, en route to Yeun-gak, glanced back as if sensing it.
"Something wrong?"
"Felt eyes on me... must be nothing."
"You're too on edge. Rest well."
"Haha, if only it were that easy...."
His sighing steps faded into the distance. Thus passed the tournament's first day, tangled in misconceptions.