'No, I Didn't Teach Her'
Baek Su-gyeong felt those words rising in his throat. Hwangbo Jun, oblivious or not, pressed on without a care.
"And there's talk that the great hero Cheongmyeong of the Cheongpung Geom, along with Great Hero Jinun from Wudang Sword Hero, learned their arts from you. If Teacher Su-gyeong isn't a grandmaster, then who is?"
Watching Hwangbo Jun, who had already twisted the facts to his liking and bought into them completely, Baek Su-gyeong swallowed a bitter smile. Sure, it was gratifying that people loved his novels, but imagining crowds like this made him feel like a fishbone was lodged in his throat—nothing but discomfort. Of course, he'd long since given up dwelling on it.
Cheongmyeong the great hero, Little So the heroine—I've never taught either of them directly.
Neither Cheongmyeong nor So Seon-ha were his direct disciples in the way Yi Jeon-hwi had been. For starters, a non-martial artist like him teaching martial arts was absurd—utter nonsense that didn't hold water. Martial artists were proud creatures. Few were open-minded enough to seek guidance from someone weaker than themselves. And Baek Su-gyeong was just a lowly scholar.
"It's true that Little So—er, Lady So the heroine—said something like that."
He took a sip of the fragrant tea and continued. "But let me be clear: I know nothing of martial arts. I'm no martial artist. Just a scholar who enjoys writing."
"Then..."
"Call me grandmaster or Teacher Su-gyeong—it's up to the world's whims. I can't control that, nor do I see why I should."
A sigh escaped him, heavy with regret over how he'd ended up here. Grandmaster? If he actually had the skills to back it up, he wouldn't need to say a word. A quick demonstration would settle it. But as things stood, he was a writer. A scholar. Someone fated to stay far from the jianghu.
Baek Su-gyeong spoke firmly. "Think what you will, Great Hero Hwangbo. I never taught Little So. I simply crossed paths with Lady Bang by chance."
He kept quiet about writing a story for So Seon-ha. That was a secret. If word spread that he'd penned a new work—not Wudang Sword Hero—solely for one girl, his position could become precarious.
Hwangbo Jun's expression stiffened slightly. "Hmm..."
By now, Baek Su-gyeong held an immense status in the central plains. The entire world watched him. It didn't stop there: even the Ilwolgyo Lord had shown him favor, So Seon-ha—who wielded overwhelming power—had called him grandmaster, he was connected to Bang Soran, escorted by Namgung Som-in, and even had a Haomen woman in tow. This went beyond broad influence; it was no exaggeration to say all righteous, evil, and demonic factions had their eyes on him.
And now this man claimed he hadn't taught So Seon-ha directly. Hwangbo Jun concluded it must have been secret instruction.
To Baek Su-gyeong, it was maddening.
"If Teacher says so, I have no choice but to believe it. Understood."
"No need to go that far..."
"Then, would you at least critique my martial arts?"
Why this now? Deep bewilderment crossed Baek Su-gyeong's face.
The negative portrayal of the Hwangbo family in Wudang Sword Hero had undoubtedly tarnished their reputation somewhat. But the Hwangbo were fundamentally a righteous clan. In Shandong, none matched their chivalry. The Hwangbo of the novel differed vastly from the central plains' Hwangbo in temperament.
Generous, bold, and hearty. Those traits shone strongly in Hwangbo Jun's fist techniques.
Hwangbo family, Hwangbo martial arts... As expected, the Heavenly King Fist?
He rummaged through his hazy memories. Hwangbo family. Main branch in Jinan, Shandong Province. Sometimes associated with Mount Tai, but with the Taishan Sect there, their base was more accurately the provincial capital of Jinan. Known for their bold, unpretentious nature, they befriended all without discrimination—true paragons of justice and heroism. Like the Hebei Peng family's innate divine strength, they boasted robust frames and sturdy bones, with many towering over average folk. Strict family traditions emphasized etiquette, and their upright character earned them good repute—that was Baek Su-gyeong's recollection of the Hwangbo.
It's fuzzy.
Eight years since arriving in the central plains, entering the ninth now. Remembering even fragments was a miracle. The first three years were a desperate scramble for survival, no time for such trivia. Before moving from escort to appraiser at Yongmun, he'd toiled endlessly.
His passion for wuxia novels had at least kept him from forgetting everything.
"Great Hero Hwangbo."
"Ask away, Teacher."
"What you're demonstrating now—is it the Heavenly King Fist?"
Hwangbo Jun's face lit with affirmation at Baek Su-gyeong's question. "Indeed. Our family's signature fist art."
"Hmm. I see."
"Any guidance?"
Baek Su-gyeong gave a wry smile at Hwangbo Jun's eager, gleaming eyes. Guidance? He'd only encountered it through novels, ink on page. What critique could he offer? He couldn't even practice martial arts himself. An untrained eye judging techniques—what good would that do? He just feared piling on more misunderstandings.
"Nothing like that. I have no notes on the Hwangbo family's arts."
"Ah, I see..."
A hint of disappointment. He'd surely pinned high hopes on Baek Su-gyeong, but calling a non-grandmaster one didn't conjure skills from thin air. Naturally, Hwangbo Jun's movements paled against Namgung Som-in or So Seon-ha's. The forms looked somewhat sloppy—force applied where it shouldn't be, slack where it needed tension. An odd imbalance.
"That said, some advice..."
"I'm all ears."
Swallowing a sigh, Baek Su-gyeong continued. "Your force distribution is off."
"Off how?"
"It feels like you're tensing where you should relax, and relaxing where you should tense. Almost like you're deliberately botching the Heavenly King Fist."
Hwangbo Jun's face tightened. He noticed?
It was true—he'd subtly twisted the form to test the famously insightful Baek Su-gyeong. The world's view painted him as a martial sage versed in all jianghu arts. Some even whispered he was a hidden expert concealing his prowess. Groundless rumors, sure, but without Baek Su-gyeong addressing them himself, the mystery lingered.
Now, Hwangbo Jun was convinced. His insight is no mere scholar's.
Scholars typically lived apart from martial arts, lacking discernment and often scorning martial folk as ruffians. No wonder murim viewed court scholars and self-proclaimed pure-stream talents dimly.
Hwangbo Jun bowed his head. "I tested your eye by performing it incorrectly on purpose."
"...I see."
Baek Su-gyeong remained composed. A shot in the dark that hit true—faint bewilderment flickered behind his calm facade, but only briefly. Hwangbo Jun pressed on.
"As expected, Teacher possesses a grandmaster's qualities!"
So no, Baek Su-gyeong thought, massaging his temple as a headache brewed. ...Ah, life. A nobody in the modern world, yet here a misplaced word anywhere branded him a martial grandmaster. Add the Ilwolgyo Lord's affairs, and his head throbbed.
A deep sigh flowed from his lips.
Early January, entering the ninth year since Baek Su-gyeong's arrival in the central plains. Amid the unfolding tales of volumes 9 and 10, he sat in an uneasy meeting with the Ilwolgyo Lord, flanked by Jang Hyo-un and Jegal Yu, who had rushed from Xuchang.
In the stifling silence, only Baek Su-gyeong's gaze darted between Jang Hyo-un and the Lord as he sipped his tea. The wordless tension in the pavilion grew unbearable.
"What's your game, Sect Lord? Parading Teacher out front to talk agreements? The Ilwol Demon Cult dreams of conquering the central plains, doesn't it?"
Jang Hyo-un shattered the quiet. True to his Thousand Hands Sword Venerable title, a chill sword aura emanated subtly from his frame, as if ready to strike. His bearing screamed intent to cleave the Lord then and there. He refrained only because Baek Su-gyeong was present.
Baek Su-gyeong's existence restrained Jang Hyo-un and stayed the Lord's hand. He was the precarious balance allowing the Murim Alliance Lord and Ilwolgyo Lord to share this space uneasily.
"Think I traveled from Xinjiang for jokes?"
The Lord's voice was ice. He masked his demonic aura before Baek Su-gyeong, but unleashing it could crumble the pavilion under immense pressure. He held back solely out of consideration.
"I didn't come to bandy words with you here, Thousand Hands Sword Venerable."
Absolute confidence colored his tone. No matter Jang Hyo-un's advances, he posed no threat. The demeanor of one revered as a living god in Xinjiang.
"Let's discuss the agreement."
Jang Hyo-un's eyes narrowed at the words.