The Lady of Negative Karma
The front waves of the Yangtze River did this and that—right before the collision, Cheong abandoned the boat. It wasn't hers anyway. She leapt lightly onto the deck of the large vessel and found people lying flat on the floor. Then came the impact—thud…! A heavy shock traveled up through her soles as the deck tilted sharply. Creaaak…! The sound of twisting wood and the ship's screams filled the air. Yet experts remained unshaken. Quite a few people stood firm, eyeing the mysterious woman who had appeared with the ramming ship.
Their gazes were far from friendly. Sensing the hostility, Cheong quickly scanned her surroundings. She needed to know whether this was a rescue ship or if she had escaped one den of villains only to land in another. Some had karma deep in the abyss, while others occasionally maintained decent karma. Excluding a few extremes, the average was roughly on par with a typical inn.
At that moment, the burly man standing at the bow pointed a harpoon at Cheong and growled, "How dare you interfere with the Yangtze River Water Sect on the Yangtze itself—and on the Dragon King's Ship, no less. At least your courage deserves praise, girl."
Cheong knew the situation could easily lead to misunderstanding. Still, she was confident it wasn't her fault. The boat had simply drifted on its own and rammed them. She hadn't shouted "Charge!" like some reckless man and deliberately crashed into them. Though she had been tempted. Regardless, the collision had been unintentional. Cheong was a reasonable person who believed most misunderstandings could be resolved through honest conversation—or through incitement and fabrication. She had also learned Seomun Su-rin's method of honest dialogue. Having observed and experienced the world through third-rate wanderers and back-alley thugs, she had endured countless nuclear fists to learn proper martial artist etiquette.
"This humble one is—" Still, calling herself a maiden felt wrong. "—Seomun Cheong. Thank you for saving my life."
Cheong clasped her hands in a respectful salute. The burly man's anger eased slightly, and Cheong felt a little more at ease.
"Saving your life? What do you mean?"
"Well, you see, they said they'd treat me to a meal—no, host me—so I boarded their ship, but those bastards, I mean that guy, no, that person? Anyway, they were complete scoundrels and…"
The forced etiquette crumbled the moment her tension eased, reverting to her back-alley speech patterns. The experience of fighting beggars over discarded food containers had been too intense. More than anything, Cheong simply didn't approach the world with much seriousness.
Cheong finished her story. It boiled down to those bastards being thoroughly rotten and her having been caught up in it without fault. Janghan, the leader of the Yangtze River Water Sect's Pabonmu faction, fell into thought. Hearing the tale, it was difficult to assign blame. Luring someone aboard under the pretense of a boat outing for vile purposes was an age-old tactic—the very reason water ghost legends persisted on famous rivers and lakes. Cheong's crude speech and striking appearance worked in her favor. A pretty girl speaking in an awkward, polite tone while indignantly defending herself looked exactly like a sheltered noble daughter who had run away from home. The distinctive clear-eyed gaze of someone who had cultivated Daoist inner arts only reinforced the illusion. Besides, Pabonmu himself was a father with a daughter. He found it hard to be harsh toward a naive young girl fresh to the martial world.
"Ahem, men are just like that. You need to be careful on your own. If you follow any random fellow without caution, you'll end up like this."
The hostility had completely vanished by now. Cheong asked more comfortably, "So, could you drop me off at the nearest city? By the way, where exactly are we?"
"Dongting Lake."
"What? Dongting Lake? How…"
Cheong swallowed the rest of her words. How could the lake be named Dongting Lake? Pabonmu, unaware of her internal grumbling, simply assumed she was surprised at having drifted so far. More importantly, there was a crucial detail in what he had heard.
"By the way, you said that bastard was the son of some official. Did he mention whose son?"
"Bucha? Bucha Inspector? Something like that."
Pabonmu's heart sank. "Bucha Provincial Military Commander."
"Yes, that's it! That sounds right."
"Damn it all…"
Pabonmu cursed.
----
The Yangtze River Water Sect was a group of water bandits, a band of robbers. That had been true during the previous chief's era. The current leader, Chief So-myeon-gyo-ho Bokhaun, knew this business balanced on a blade's edge that could end at any moment—because of the authorities. The moment the government launched a suppression campaign, it would spell the end of the Water Sect. Cannons were the exclusive property of the officials, and in naval battles, if only one side possessed them, there was no fight to begin with.
In Bokhaun's view, the Water Sect merely existed within the limits of the authorities' patience. So he changed the Water Sect. He actively built relations with the government, protecting official vessels and operating courier ships as proxies. They conducted inspections to help capture criminals. Suppressing smugglers had always been part of their work—smuggling was a business only the Water Sect could handle. They drastically lowered passage fees to avoid drawing the authorities' attention. Thanks to this, the volume of river transport on the Yangtze surged, which in turn brought in far greater profits than before.
His efforts bore fruit. The Yangtze River Water Sect had become less a band of water bandits and more a legitimate Yangtze management enterprise. They had become the true masters of the Yangtze, recognized by the authorities, albeit unofficially.
Yet the son of the Bucha Provincial Military Commander was dead. The problem was determining responsibility. Cheong claimed that Cha Nam-jeong had still been alive before the collision. Even with some distortion, it was undeniably true. Though his arms and legs had necrotized and his manhood and tongue had been severed, his life itself had remained intact. According to Cheong's plan, the survivors with less than a hundred negative karma were supposed to take Cha Nam-jeong to a medical clinic and testify to his crimes. Unfortunately, they had all drowned in the accident.
So who should bear responsibility for the death of that high official's son? Chief Bokhaun of the Water Sect pressed his fingers firmly against his brow. Another incident had erupted at an already complicated time.
"I knew that perverted, murderous bastard would cause trouble someday. I just didn't expect it to turn out like this."
Cha Nam-jeong had operated in the Yichang region of the Yangtze. And the Water Sect knew everything that happened on the Yangtze. From ship managers to dockworkers—few laborers involved in operating vessels had no connection to the Water Sect.
"So what did you do with the girl?"
"We've locked her in the cabin for now."
Pabonmu hesitated before asking, "Um, are you planning to hand that child over to the authorities?"
"What else would we do?"
"Isn't that a bit pitiful? She went through something terrible."
"It is pitiful. That much is true." Bokhaun shook his head. "But once you strap on a sword, you're already a person of the martial world. As you know, innocence is a sin in the martial world. There's nothing we can do."
"Ugh…"
Bokhaun consoled Pabonmu in a heavy voice. "I understand how you feel—like she's your own daughter. But there's no need for us to invite trouble. That's the job of the righteous sects."
Then he suddenly seemed to remember something. "Ah, come to think of it, have you seen that rascal Heumcheok? I gave him a good scolding a few days ago, and the boy got sulky and hasn't shown his face to his father since."
----
The moment Cheong entered the cabin, the door slammed shut. A sudden chill ran down her spine. She tried the door—it was locked tight. When she had mentioned the Bucha Inspector or whatever his title was, the burly man's expression had turned extremely uneasy. Afterward, he had offered to show her to a room where she could stay until they reached Ak-yang, and she had assumed that was the end of it.
"That uncle seemed decent enough, but he backstabbed me like this. Hmph. Should I wipe them all out? I could slaughter the lot of them…"
Cheong imitated the famous line of the great author she usually admired. It was the same shameless nonsense she always spouted. However, she only voiced it when no one was listening—or when she was facing villains who would die anyway. Even if no one would understand the reference, saying it with a clear mind somehow felt embarrassing.
"Is that really true?"
"Aack!"
Startled by the unfamiliar voice, Cheong genuinely jumped and trembled.
"Sorry for surprising you."
She was a beauty with a somewhat frail appearance. Her gentle, soft voice wrapped sweetly around the ears—a sweet, melodious tone that seemed to soothe a weary soul. When Cheong looked at her, the beauty offered a warm smile. It was a smile that pierced straight through the center of Cheong's heart.
Ah, I see. I like frail beauties.
But why was she smiling at her? Could it be…?
"I'm Eon Yeonyeong. From Jinju. And you are?"
"Seomun Cheong…"
When Cheong focused on someone's face, numbers would appear above them. Eon Yeonyeong was no exception. How many children would be good? Should I give them the Seomun surname, or continue the family line in this primitive China? As Cheong pondered, the numbers came into view.
-1711.
Her mind snapped into clarity. Four digits? For real? Ah, damn. I loved you, woman…
Cheong suddenly felt deeply depressed.