My Type Is a Dirty Beggar Woman
"Do you know this beggar?"
Jo Hak-cheo, who had been boldly guarding the alley against the swarm of women, froze in shock. The reason was Paeng Daesan, who had just appeared carrying Cheong in his arms.
Of course, the women screamed too.
"Little brother? Why are you holding her so preciously? Was it that good?"
Paeng Daesan answered with a crooked smile. In truth, the words were not meant for Jo Hak-cheo, but for the women currently staging a full-blown opera of wailing and tears. Even the grieving citizens of Cheong's homeland when their governor passed would not have wept this bitterly.
"It was pure paradise. Now that I've seen the light, my taste apparently runs toward dirty, smelly beggar wenches. If this one agrees, I plan to rent a room and enjoy her all night. I might even take her as my proper wife."
Cheong buried her face in his chest as if shy and whispered directly into his ear.
What the hell? Dirty, smelly beggar bitch? A person might not wash for a while, but is there any need to roast someone this hard?
Paeng Daesan pretended not to hear.
With Paeng Daesan's shocking public declaration of taste, hell descended upon the city center. It was mostly auditory. If the cries of sinners burning in eternal torment, their screams, curses, and resentful howls were all mixed together, this would be exactly what it sounded like. On top of that, people kept fainting in waves. Some suffered such severe shock that they began convulsing like epilepsy patients.
Paeng Daesan drank in the screams, the sight of bodies collapsing, and the sheer chaos, and a genuine, refreshing smile bloomed on his face. It was an incredibly satisfying spectacle that washed away at least a fraction of his lifelong resentment.
Jo Hak-cheo clicked his tongue at that relieved smile.
"Then there's no helping it. I can't become a wicked older brother who covets his sister-in-law. Hm. Enjoy your time. And to the young lady as well—since Paeng brother is experiencing this for the first time and might be clumsy, please teach him well. Don't find it frustrating and be sure to savor the pleasures of the cloud and rain. Hey! This bastard is trying to kick his elder brother!?"
"Please stop with the useless nonsense. I beg you."
Cheong's eyes flashed. There was no way she could let that slide.
Aha. So he's a virgin. Pure as untouched snow? Our San was a very pure San indeed? Oho, the mountain who guarded his chastity. Very commendable. Wonderful. The best. Purity Mountain. Should I change his nickname from now on? How about Purity God? Too on the nose? Then Boy God? Pure White God? Pure God?
Paeng Daesan ground his teeth.
A wave of deep, belated regret washed over him. That's right. This was exactly the kind of woman she was. He should have simply said they would meet again at the next Murim Competition. Why had he insisted on grabbing her and inviting this humiliation?
If god doesn't work, how about Dao God? Hm, that somehow sounds like it'll lead to gambling. Fine, then Purity Dao King? Virgin Dao King? Pure White Dao King? Pure Dao King? Just say the word. I'll shout it loud enough to make a cool nickname stick right to you.
"Stop it."
Then flow. There you go lowering your voice again. Should I add bass? Pure Bass Paeng Daesan. Bass Virgin. Oh, bass virgin sounds pretty good, doesn't it?
Paeng Daesan gnashed his teeth so hard it was audible.
After that, they cut straight through the hellish scene and entered the inn to secure a room.
Once inside with Paeng Daesan, Cheong soaked a towel in hot water, wrung it out roughly, and began scrubbing her face with enough force to make audible scraping sounds. She tossed the used towel into the waste bin and picked up the next one. The proper bathing order was to wipe away the surface grime with a wet towel before soaking in the tub.
"Wow, that feels amazing. When's the bath water coming? Just thinking about taking a proper bath after so long has my heart racing. This is exactly why I don't wash."
"What kind of dogshit logic is that?"
"Why? Washing after not bathing for a while feels incredible. Especially washing your hair. When you pour hot water over that greasy scalp, work up a lather, and gently scratch it—wow, it's just... kyaah. Your legs go completely weak, and this tingling rush shoots up from behind your knees. That pleasure makes sleeping with someone completely unnecessary. If I could wash just once a month, I'd be perfectly satisfied."
"...What the actual hell are you saying? Do you normally walk around without washing?"
"I wash when I get the chance, don't I?"
Which simply meant that if the chance didn't present itself, she wouldn't go out of her way to make one. It was secret information Paeng Daesan never wanted to know.
He frowned. "I don't understand. How can a person sleep without washing? Just thinking about dirtying the bed is... ugh, horrifying."
"Well, that's because you're a young master, San. You always had the opportunity to wash. As for me, if I can strip my top at a well, cover my lower half, and pour water over myself, that's what I do."
Cheong kept moving her hands as she spoke. The staff member who had seen the flower beggar had piled up a mountain of towels. She wiped her hands, arms, feet, and neck. Dirty towels flew into the bin one after another.
"Ah. I'm about to wipe my torso, so could you turn around? Or should I turn?"
"I'll turn."
Paeng Daesan rotated his chair to face the wall. Immediately, the sound of rustling fabric reached his ears as clothes slid off. A poet from Cheong's homeland had described the sound of snow accumulating, but for a man, there was truly no more erotic sound in the world.
For reference, the Central Plains lacked modern media, so the only available material was spring paintings that were aesthetically refined but completely failed to arouse lust.
Paeng Daesan's face burned bright red. But the next sound quickly restored his normal color.
"Kyaah, this is beyond refreshing. This is otherworldly refreshing. It's the best. Life is worth living again. This is why I keep going."
"Where on earth did you learn to talk like a middle-aged man..."
"You have to do it like this to feel alive, you know? So what kind of sounds do you make, San? You're not the type to say 'My face reflected in the water looks artistic today as well,' right?"
"I don't make any particular sounds."
"Ehh, how boring."
At the same time, Paeng Daesan thought to himself: What the hell is this completely tensionless conversation? How could she share a room with a man and show not the slightest hint of wariness? How could she chatter so comfortably just because he had turned his back?
Of course, Paeng Daesan knew the reason. She didn't see him as a man at all, so she considered him completely harmless. In fact, that was precisely why he had been able to grow close to her. If she had shown even the slightest romantic interest, he would have recoiled in disgust and pushed her away.
Even so. How could she lack any sense of danger whatsoever? How could she trust a man in the ruthless world of Murim enough to casually strip naked in the same room?
As for Paeng Daesan himself, she was barely a woman at all—a pseudo-woman. Their relationship was built on pure friendship without the slightest romantic feeling, almost like a same-sex friend, so it didn't matter. But did she simply trust anyone who called themselves a friend? Well, like that Sword Maniac, for example.
Paeng Daesan didn't realize he was making a stiff, hardened expression. Had Paeng Cho-ryeo seen it, she would have asked why her little brother looked so angry.
"Do you usually take your clothes off so casually?"
"Huh? When I'm at the Goddess Sect, yes. When sleeping, wearing anything feels uncomfortable and I can't fall asleep."
This was Cheong's answer, the same person who had slept all day in beggar clothes under the blazing sun. Paeng Daesan was stunned. What kind of answer was that? Then again, the Goddess Sect was a place forbidden to men, so women seeing each other naked probably wasn't a big deal. But uncomfortable if she wore anything while sleeping? Then when she slept...
Suddenly Cheong's aggrieved voice cut in.
"What? Why are you lowering your voice again?"
"I didn't."
"There was definitely a hint of it."
"No, there wasn't."
"That's strange. It definitely dropped about half a tone."
Paeng Daesan, still facing the wall, broke into a twisted smile.
"If I turn around now, I'll see everything, won't I?"
"Why are you suddenly being so petty? Did I do something wrong? Hmm, that rumor about me sleeping with the beggar—you agreed to it too. I guess I was slow on the uptake. I'm really sorry..."
Cheong offered a gloomy apology. She never held back when she felt wronged, but when she felt sorry, her honest and straightforward nature came out.
Paeng Daesan's mind snapped back to attention.
"No, it was a joke. Can't you even take a joke?"
"What? It was a joke? It didn't sound like one because it hit a nerve. Fine, I'll take it as a joke too. San! You want to see my body? Have you finally awakened to the mystery of the female form? Should I show you?"
"You shouldn't say things like that even as a joke. Where did you learn to make such crude jokes?"
Paeng Daesan put on a serious face again. This time Cheong answered as if she wouldn't fall for it.
"You didn't catch this one. If you provoke me and turn around, the picture is me wrapped in a blanket. So if you're going to turn, give me a warning and count first. You have to give me time to cover myself."
Paeng Daesan let out a sigh while facing the wall.
It was April, with spring in full bloom. However, the spring for Wang, a gate guard on duty, was bitterly cold—all thanks to Jo, who had started his shift with him.
"Damn it. My head's still pounding because of you, fuck. I could really use a cup of takju right now."
"The idiot is the one who fell for it. After receiving that much money from the flower beggar, why would she keep living as a beggar? She should buy a brothel and become its madam."
"You got beaten and cried your eyes out too, didn't you? Mr. Oh spilled everything."
"Ahem. Still better than that bastard Oh."
Mr. Oh had gone to see the flower beggar carrying only twenty doors. When he asked if this was supposed to buy her, he got hit four times. Even one hit had felt like dipping his feet into the underworld. After four hits, he had been absent for a week, and it looked like more than half his next month's pay would be docked. Military law was strict; absences meant losing a day's wage plus paying one-and-a-half times the amount in fines.
"Ah, look over there. Isn't that the flower beggar?"
"I heard the flower beggar slept with the Jade Qilin yesterday, so why is she outside? But that height, those breasts, three swords. Isn't that the flower beggar?"
After the sword thief incident, Cheong had wrapped both her Twin Sabers and the Boksinjeok in dirty cloth. To others, they simply looked like three swords.
"All right. We've got her. We'll strip her naked during inspection and make her stand there all day... Oh, it's not the flower beggar."
"Oh my, it's a fairy. It's a fairy!"
As Cheong drew closer, the guards quickly changed their tune. She was an absolute beauty who could have stepped out of the Goddess Sect itself, and the graceful, refined steps of the Seomun Su-rin style lent an elegant air to her every movement.
Cheong was about to pass through the gate with that noble gait when her eyes met those of a man staring at her face with a completely entranced expression. She gave a slight bow in greeting and walked inside, disappearing from view.
Wang stood there in a daze for a long while before suddenly leaning his spear against the gate.
"What? Where are you going?"
"To the outhouse. This won't do. I need to take care of things while her beauty is still fresh in my mind. Hey! Jo!"
"Haha, I'm first! Kuhaha!"
It was the moment when Seomun Cheong, an outer disciple of the Goddess Sect, first made an (official) visit to the city.