An Encounter with Moyong Jun
Are you acquainted with this beggar? While waiting unobtrusively beside the entrance, the waiter soon handed over a tray. Six steamed buns, a bowl of soup, and a large vessel brimming with liquor. Even considering the hour, it was quite generous.
“Wow, thank you. May blessings come your way.”
“Ahem. Eat quickly and be on your way.”
Cheong plopped her sizable rear onto an inconspicuous patch of ground and began her meal. She first tossed some jerky from her pack into the soup, then took a hasty gulp from the liquor-filled vessel. The sour, slightly spoiled liquor burned its way down her empty stomach, sending a fiery sensation rising through her.
“Hah, that’s good. The people here are really generous. I shouldn’t come too often.”
One should only frequent generous establishments occasionally. If a beggar visits too often, generosity tends to sour. The soup even contained a sizable chunk of radish—an astonishing display of kindness. As for the buns, they tasted the same everywhere in the Central Plains: bland, mushy, and dry. If they weren’t moldy, there was little difference between a fly-ridden roadside stall and the finest restaurant in the city.
Cheong chewed the buns slowly, mechanically working her jaw as she thought. A single bun had no flavor, so one had to chew thoroughly to taste any sweetness at all. Truthfully, even now she could knock on the doors of righteous sects in the city and receive the utmost hospitality simply by invoking her master’s name. Even without that, with her monstrous strength she could easily find work as a laborer and never go hungry. But doing so risked someone shouting “There’s a bounty on her head!” and charging in, endangering innocent bystanders.
It was simply awkward to grow close to anyone right now. Cheong knew all too well that as the highest authority on the subject of vile schemes—someone who could be offered a scholar’s position—she would inevitably have to intervene if another innocent person was taken hostage. So she might as well live as a beggar for a while. After all, the Grand Murim Tournament was less than two months away. Living as a beggar had only been miserable when she lacked ability and common sense; now she was more worried about dying of boredom.
After finishing her meal, Cheong sprang up and began preparing for proper beggar life. She changed into the clothes the sword thief had given her. The fit was loose, though the sleeves and hems were a bit short. She took her uniform to the washing area, scrubbed it thoroughly, and hung it on the communal line. Then she visited a fabric shop, bought the cheapest cotton cloth, and wrapped it around her feet and calves up to her ankles. This was the famous beggar’s footwrap. With that, her preparations were complete. It seemed almost too simple, but what grand preparations did a beggar need? Living without anything was precisely what made one a beggar.
Ten days passed in the blink of an eye. The appearance of a female beggar—especially one carrying two swords—had initially drawn wary and suspicious glances from the townsfolk. But since she did nothing harmful and merely lounged about, their wariness quickly faded. If asked whether a beggar carrying two swords was strange, the answer would likely be something ambiguous like, “Well, I suppose it’s not entirely strange.” After all, traditional beggars carried paired staves.
The most traditional form of begging involved standing before someone’s gate, striking a rhythm with staves held in both hands, and singing until food was offered. The lyrics varied by region, but the general message was “I’m not leaving until you give me food.” That method was no longer feasible in this era, when clubs rather than rice were likely to come flying out. One might not simply leave, but depart permanently for the afterlife. Thus, this traditional style was now only seen at celebratory feasts.
Meanwhile, the beggar’s essential item—serving as both staff, self-defense weapon, and percussion instrument—was called the “dog-beating staff.” One might wonder what sort of animal-abusing, ignorant name that was. But the person who bestowed that name was none other than Confucius, the father of Chinese philosophy. In brief: A disciple asked Confucius what to do if a householder kept a large dog that made begging difficult. Confucius, outraged, replied, “Then beat the dog!” The beggars famous for using this dog-beating staff were the Beggars’ Clan. Their main headquarters was in Kaifeng, and the nearby city of Jangwon was also completely under their control. And finally, the clan’s notorious territorial aggression was now extending its reach toward Cheong… or so it seemed.
“Ah. Knots. Members of the Beggars’ Clan. How is Elder Nugok faring? I have my reasons for posing as a beggar for the time being, so I’d appreciate your understanding.”
“Ah. You know the Enforcement Elder? How are you acquainted?”
“I can’t explain the circumstances, but will he be attending the Grand Murim Tournament? I’ll greet him then.”
“Ah. Yes. Then please enjoy your beggar life.”
The Beggars’ Clan’s Three-Knot Beggar, the Jangwon branch leader, said this and withdrew. This was the righteous faction’s version of “We are who we are.” If it later proved false, there would still be time to administer a club massage. But if she truly knew him and they provoked her unnecessarily, trouble could arise. So believing her was always the safer bet. For now, they could only send word to headquarters that a female beggar claiming to know the Enforcement Elder had appeared, and instruct the clan members not to show unnecessary interest or speak to her. With distinguished guests soon passing through ahead of the tournament, any commotion would be best avoided.
“Kya. That’s the power of connections in the Central Plains for you.”
Cheong had been preparing for a confrontation with the beggars, but she hadn’t expected a single name-drop to resolve everything so cleanly. It almost made her past hardships feel unjust. With no one bothering her, Cheong spent her days half-asleep on the ground, pretending to beg. This left her wide awake at night with nothing to do. Moreover, lying down all day made her body stiff and achy. Unable to endure the boredom any longer, Cheong began training in the middle of the night. If she had nothing better to do, why not swing her sword and cause a ruckus? Days of sleeping by day and training by night continued. One could say she was living a more diligent martial artist’s life than when she had been enjoying the luxuries of a righteous heroine.
As March passed its twenty-fifth day, even the thick padded clothes were starting to feel a bit warm. Still, the nights remained chilly—perfect weather for training. Today, as usual, she had spread out her cloth and was lying like a corpse on the straw mat she had obtained from the Beggars’ Clan members when light footsteps approached. They stopped directly in front of her. Cheong cracked open one eye to assess the visitor. A child of about ten was looking down at her as if she were some curious animal. Dressed in fine clothes with an unmistakably noble air, anyone could tell he was a young master from a wealthy family. A sword hung at his waist, suggesting he was from a martial clan. Well, with the tournament approaching, he was probably being taken to Kaifeng by his family. She’d heard Kaifeng was quite close. In any case, it had nothing to do with her. Just as Cheong was about to close her eye again—
“Excuse me.”
“What.”
Cheong answered without enthusiasm, eyes still closed.
“Well, you see…”
“I don’t have anything, so why don’t you go away.”
“It’s just that I have something to ask…”
The child’s voice trailed off dejectedly. Honestly, she felt a bit sorry for him. Damn it. She was weak to children—that was her flaw. Cheong sat up and scratched her head vigorously.
“What is it?”
“Ah. Well… Noona, you’re a female beggar, right?”
“Can’t you tell by looking?”
“Then… are you perhaps a courtesan? Right?”
“……?”
Cheong’s eyes narrowed. What was this? She’d only meant to exchange a few words because he was cute, but this was an insult delivered right to her face? Of course, Cheong did not tolerate insults.
“Kid, do you never hear people say you have no mother? From what I can see, you look like you don’t have one.”
“Ah!”
The child’s eyes widened to twice their size, round with surprise.
“How did you know? I heard my mother passed away giving birth to me.”
“Ah. Is that so.”
Cheong replied indifferently. Even so, she felt no remorse toward a brat who had just called her a whore to her face.
“If you’re done, would you leave now?”
“W-well… This…”
The child held out a large gold coin with his small hand. What was this? A sudden peace offering? Well, with this level of sincerity, she ought to show some adult generosity. It was too much money to refuse. As Cheong accepted it, the child smiled brightly with that innocent expression unique to children and asked:
“Then, can I touch your chest now?”
A vein bulged on Cheong’s forehead.
“Kid. I don’t know what kind of family education you received, but your rotten roots are showing already. Hey. Where did you learn this kind of behavior? Picking up nothing but bad habits— are you trying to pick a fight with me right now? Can’t you see I’m carrying swords?”
“Huh? That’s not it…”
“Then what is it?”
The child made a pitiful face and said, “I heard that if you give a courtesan a gold coin, she’ll let you do whatever you want…”
“No, who told you that? There are things you can and cannot say to a child. Go tell your mother right now—ah, you said you don’t have one. Go tell your father. Tell him someone taught you how to grope a whore’s chest.”
“They didn’t teach me, I just overheard the porters talking. They said they were going to grope a courtesan’s chest. Ah, is it because it’s a gold coin? If I give you silver instead…”
“I can’t tell if you’re stupid or just naive. No, looking at how you came all this way determined to touch a chest, you’re not naive. Did those porters say something else? That all female beggars are dirty whores?”
“That was what Sir Baek Mu said. He said all female beggars are dirty whores, so I shouldn’t go near them…”
“Baek Mu? Who’s that—right. Let’s sort this out. So some guy named Baek Mu said female beggars are whores, and the porters said you can grope a whore’s chest if you pay?”
“More precisely, they said you could do whatever you wanted—suck, lick, knead like rice cakes.”
“And you want to touch a chest.”
“Well…”
The child blushed. “I overheard the aunties talking. They said sons keep fondling their mothers’ chests even after turning ten…”
“Then you should go to your own mother. Ah. You said you don’t have one. So?”
“That’s why they said boys never forget breasts no matter how young, and spend their whole lives looking for them. I was so curious what it felt like, but since I don’t have a mother…”
Cheong frowned in disbelief. “What kind of household blurts out things they shouldn’t say in front of children? A house with kids, no less.”
This was why households with children needed to watch their words. Children learned from what they saw and heard. But listening to this was oddly entertaining. Cheong asked in a gentler tone, “Anything else you picked up?”
“Hmm… About touching breasts? They said not to touch the middle at first, but to scratch around the edges gently, and when the flood comes, go ‘pabapak!’ and you’ll reach paradise. What’s a flood, and what’s pabapak? Why go to paradise? Isn’t that where good people go when they die?”
“Hmm. That’s something I can’t teach you. Right, and? You didn’t hear anything else?”
“Ah! Also…”
All sorts of lewd stories poured from the child’s mouth. Cheong, who enjoyed dirty jokes, kept prompting “And then?” until the child had nothing left to recall.
“I think that’s all.”
“Mm. Got it. By the way, they said all that right in front of you?”
“Well… No… There’s a secret passage, so while I was wandering around… I know eavesdropping is bad, but… they were talking so entertainingly…”
Originally, she had planned to tell him to go repeat everything he’d just said to his father. But it seemed the servants hadn’t been particularly careless. He’d overheard from a secret passage. Well, men could talk about lewd things while on duty. They probably never imagined their young master would be eavesdropping from a hidden passage. Punishing them by cutting off their rice bowls would be too harsh. Still, this kid spent all his time eavesdropping on others’ conversations in his own house?
Just as Cheong was thinking this, the child suddenly clapped his hands as if remembering something and introduced himself.
“Ah. Right. My name is Moyong Jun.”
“Moyong? The Moyong Clan? That Moyong Clan? Where was it again…”
“If it’s the Moyong Clan of Liaoning, that would be my family.”
“Ah! Right. That’s it. Liaoning Province.”
Cheong now knew the surnames of the Five Great Clans. She also knew their locations when told. So he wasn’t just any young master—he was an extremely wealthy one.
“I’m, well, just a beggar.”
Cheong made an excuse, having no intention of getting close given the circumstances. What if some genius tracker or famous assassin-detective got involved and dragged this noble young master into trouble? Then Moyong Jun smiled brightly and said:
“Then, can I touch your chest now?”