The Poison Master's Bargain
Didn't you tell me to come out and play? Cheong checked the shape of the moon outside. Let's see, what time is it now? Around the hour of the Ox, or maybe the start of the Tiger? It wasn't that Cheong was being sloppy. It was simply that reading the constellations to tell time wasn't all that precise.
Since the appointment had been for midnight, it was already half a shichen past. But since Cheong had been alone, being late to the meeting wasn't because she'd overslept. After all, she'd arrived at the meeting place quite early and settled in.
Yonggung-ru's Dragon King Room. Just hearing the name made it clear this was the finest guest room in the entire inn. And right below the seventh-floor Dragon King Room was the Plum Blossom Room.
Cheong had spent nearly a full shichen with her ears perked up, concentrating on every sound that reached her. But there was nothing particularly unusual. After the appointed time, all she caught were muttered complaints like Why isn't that kid coming? Did the letter not arrive? Or did they get it and decide to ignore me?
From persistently eavesdropping, Cheong determined that the person hadn't brought a whole group or hidden accomplices in another room. Alone? Seems like they're alone. Just to be sure, she waited another half shichen, but it looked like there really was no entourage.
Only then did Cheong open the door leading outside. It was a door rather than a window because these high-class, multi-story rooms had entire walls made of sliding panels.
Cheong lightly hopped down onto the eaves of the floor below with a soft tap. Her side screamed in protest, but this much she could endure now. Suppressing a groan, Cheong rapped sharply on the door—knock knock—pouring all her resentment into the sound.
In response came the shuffle of footsteps, followed by the door sliding open with a clack.
“Hehe, I didn’t expect you to come through the window. Well then, come in.”
Not particularly hostile? Cheong relaxed a little.
The owner of the letter was an old man with deeply wrinkled skin. His face was covered in age spots, the unblemished parts shiny with that characteristic elderly sheen, and the wrinkles were so dense it looked like the very embodiment of a hundred years of aging.
“So, you said you know my secret?”
“My goodness, such an impatient child. You make someone wait half a shichen and then immediately jump to your own business. That won’t do. I am called Bo-yeol of the Sasa-ui.”
“I’m the Heavenly Flower Sword, Seomun Cheong.”
“Indeed. Do you enjoy tea? Since you’ve come to Guangxi, you really ought to drink Liu Bao.”
Liu Bao tea was counted among the world’s most famous teas and was practically Guangxi Province’s only notable specialty. Naturally, the Gyerim Sword Sect had served it so often to their honored guest that Cheong was utterly sick of it.
“I’ve already had more than enough. Chrysanthemum pupae tea, at that. Don’t you have any Longjing? Liu Bao’s medicinal aroma is too strong for my taste.”
Chrysanthemum pupae tea was made from the excrement of silkworms that had eaten tea leaves. Beyond its price, it was extraordinarily rare. At that, Bo-yeol’s expression soured.
“The Gyerim Sword Sect served you chrysanthemum pupae tea?”
“Yes.”
“Hah, those rotten salt merchants. Giving a mere child their prized chrysanthemum pupae tea. Tsk. Never mind. Just drink it. It’s not as if I’m going to change the tea leaves at this hour, and you probably don’t want others seeing your face either.”
He then busied himself adjusting the water temperature in the kettle on the brazier, mixing water from several different kettles. While preparing the tea, he grumbled on.
“Longjing, she says. Only people who don’t know tea keep asking for Longjing. It’s the only tea they know. What’s so great about Longjing anyway?”
The mood had suddenly turned into a tea-tasting session. Cheong blinked a few times before her eyes landed on the snacks beautifully stacked on the table like gold bars. They were translucent, pale, rectangular strips with something yellowish embedded inside.
What is this? It looks super suspicious. Extremely, extremely suspicious. If it’s suspicious, she should probably eat it first.
Chomp.Nom nom.
The true identity of the snack was a jelly made by boiling down kumquats—essentially candied kumquat yokan. But unlike ordinary jelly, it was packed with plenty of thick kumquat syrup, giving it a delightfully chewy texture. Oh, this. Wow! Sweet and sour!
At the long-missed taste of home, Cheong’s face bloomed into a bright smile.
“Hey, the tea leaves haven’t even steeped yet. Why are you already devouring the snacks?”
“Mm. Right.”
This wasn’t the time to be snacking and playing around. Cheong looked a bit downcast as she set the jelly back down.
Soon the distinctive medicinal aroma of well-aged tea (in the good sense) filled the room.
“It’s ready.”
In the etiquette of the Central Plains, the proper way to drink tea was a separate category called tea ceremony. The reason the old man had brewed the tea himself and then declared it ready was because, traditionally, the younger person was supposed to pour for the elder. Of course, normally the host would pour for the guest first, but the two of them weren’t exactly in a host-guest relationship.
Cheong’s tea etiquette had been mercilessly drilled into her by Seomun Su-rin’s nuclear punches. With movements so elegant that even a seasoned tea master would sigh in admiration, she brewed a cup. In response, Bo-yeol tapped the table three times with his finger—the southern Central Plains style of expressing gratitude.
Cheong first took a deep breath to savor the aroma, then lightly wet her lips to taste it. Hmm. It’s good. But there was a ginseng smell… Liu Bao tea was known for its ginseng-like fragrance.
“So, you said you know my secret, Elder.”
“Hmph. Such an impatient personality.”
“It’s already late at night. Who cares about personality right now?”
“Hehe, you’re not wrong. Indeed. Others might not know, but you cannot fool my eyes.”
At that, Cheong looked at Bo-yeol with a tense expression. My secret? Just what exactly does he know?
“You are none other than the current generation’s Small Hand Witch.”
“Eh?”
“Hehe, truly a masterpiece. The identity of the Divine Dragon—said to be the greatest among the righteous sects’ rising stars—being the Small Hand Witch. Who could have ever imagined it?”
Bo-yeol laughed as if greatly amused. Cheong asked cautiously, a hint of disappointment in her voice.
“Um. When you said you knew my secret… that’s all? That I learned the Sosu Magong?”
No way. That’s it? Just that I learned a demonic art? After renting the most expensive room in the middle of the night, losing sleep, and spending a whole shichen stuck to the floor eavesdropping for anything suspicious—this is what I get for all that money and effort? No way. That can’t be it, right?
“As if that would be all.”
Cheong felt both relief and wariness at the same time. Of course not. Get to the main point already, you old man!
“How many people in the world know that the previous generation’s Small Hand Witch belongs to the Blood Sect? And since you inherited the Sosu Magong, doesn’t that make you a fiend of the Blood Sect as well?”
“Oh, and?”
“You’ve deceived the entire world so perfectly. Even I never imagined such an identity.”
Aish. Total miss. Cheong was disappointed again.
In truth, she hadn’t come here just because she was wary of someone knowing her secret. She had wondered if maybe he had a status window, or if he was a fellow traveler from another era. Perhaps she could ask for help from someone with more information than her. Even if not, they might bond over things like One Hundred Reasons the Central Plains Are Barbaric or Let’s Recreate Modern Food Together.
But what was this? Just because he found out she used one demonic art, he drags her out in the middle of the night? This was completely like a jeweler losing a million in profit—no, she was the one taking the full loss. It felt like she’d lost half her life. Aish, give me back my expectations, my sense of crisis, my money and time!
To make up for the loss, she decided to mercilessly devour the expensive snacks. Cheong exacted her revenge through the utterly wicked and terrifying act of devouring all the accompanying refreshments that should have been enjoyed with the tea. It was comparable to clearing away the snacks in front of a drinker—an inhuman atrocity no decent person should ever commit.
Yet even in the face of Cheong’s terrifying retaliation, Bo-yeol simply chuckled.
“There’s no need to be so anxious. I didn’t call you here to say anything bad.”
“Hah. You’re only saying that because you got caught. Actually, my real identity isn’t Seomun Cheong.”
“Oh? The Murim Alliance really is in a sorry state. Last time it was that patrol inspector child, Eon something, who turned out to be a Blood Sect spy, and now even the Divine Dragon. So, what is your true identity?”
Oh, he knows about Eon Yeonyeong. These days Cheong was having quite a bit of fun impersonating her. She’d been about to pull another stunt but got shut down in advance.
“It’s a secret. I won’t tell you. If you can figure it out, go ahead. So why did you call me? If you don’t want your identity exposed, you’d better quietly listen to me?”
“Well, something like that.”
“You called the Small Hand Witch so boldly and you’re not even scared? Want to taste the Sosu Magong?”
“I left a letter in the guest room where I’m staying. If I don’t return, someone will come looking for me, and that letter containing your identity will be discovered. The whole world will learn who you are. If that’s fine with you, then by all means.”
“Wow, what a truly terrifying threat.”
Since her master had already taught her that throwing a tantrum solved everything, Cheong wasn’t afraid in the slightest. Still, now that she’d heard it, she was curious. Just what did he want to make him prepare such good tea and delicious snacks?
After spending a whole shichen with her ear pressed to the floor, she had concluded that this old man had also come alone without any companions.
“So, what do you want?”
Cheong, who couldn’t stand not knowing, asked directly. If he said something cliché like Take off your clothes here or started talking about clouds and rain, she’d send him straight to the afterlife with Sosu Magong plus Black Killing Demonic Palm plus Purple Lightning Magic plus Jeonryun Mageop—a special deluxe set of the Ten Great Demonic Arts. Unfortunately, since humans only have two hands, the 108 Asura Swords couldn’t join the combo.
Or could they? If someone bit a blade in their mouth like in the stories, maybe they could use half the Ten Great Demonic Arts at once?
Unfortunately, it seemed the old man’s libido wasn’t particularly strong due to his age. Bo-yeol pulled a small medicine bottle from his robes.
“Here. This is called Blood Death Poison.”
“You want me to eat this? Or is it ‘if you want the antidote, obey me’?”
“For a fiend of the Blood Sect, you seem quite ignorant about poisons. To not even know Blood Death Poison, one of the Ten Great Deadly Poisons.”
Cheong tilted her head.
“Another one of the Ten Greats? Wait, who even decides these ‘top ten strongest collection’ lists? And if it’s one of the deadly poisons, who picked the ten strongest ones? Did someone taste every poison in the world and rank them by how painful and lethal they are?”
“Ahem. Hm, hm.”
In truth, aside from a few truly famous deadly poisons, the rest of the list was just filled with well-known ones. The important part was that poison masters would secretly slip their own creations into the ranking. Since Bo-yeol had done exactly that with his own deadly poison, being struck at his sore spot made him clear his throat and hastily drink several cups of tea in a row.
Then, reaching out to cleanse his bitter tongue with the snacks, he suddenly froze.
Why? Why were there no snacks left!
Now Bo-yeol had lost any means to cleanse his bitter tongue. He could only continue to suffer. Such was the terrifying revenge of Cheong’s snack-devouring retribution.
“So, what exactly am I supposed to do with this?”
“Feed it to Kang Su-yang, the leader of the Gyerim Sword Sect. It’s not a bad deal for you either, is it? I won’t concern myself with whatever the Blood Sect is plotting, but the disappearance of one righteous sect is something you people would welcome as well, no?”
This was Bo-yeol’s scheme. Since Blood Death Poison was practically his signature technique, once Kang Su-yang died from the poisoning, it wouldn’t be long before it was revealed that Bo-yeol was the one who had administered it. Then he would have single-handedly completed the Sadoryeon’s mission to take over Guangxi, claiming all the credit for himself.
Cheong pouted. She’d thought he seemed rather friendly, but in the end, an Evil Sect bastard was still an Evil Sect bastard.
However, Cheong fell into thought. Because the poison was incredibly tempting. She wanted it! One of the Ten Great Deadly Poisons!
Cheong had already used poison to kill two masters in the Harmonious Realm. Whether it was truly one of the ten strongest poisons in the world or just the creator’s bravado, there was no doubt it was an incredibly powerful lethal toxin.
With this, she could easily kill a great demon in the Harmonious Realm, right? This was the very righteous thought process of the greatest rising star of the righteous sects—a hero who sought to eliminate great demons.
“So, use this poison to kill Kang Su-yang. Then I’ll turn a blind eye to the fact that you’re the Small Hand Witch.”
“Understood.”
Cheong said this as she snatched the poison bottle. Nice! Got myself a deadly poison.
However, while she had said she understood, she had never said she would actually do it. One could call her a truly vile woman who could lie without batting an eye and swindle a powerful old man.
“As expected. It’s nice when we can communicate so well. Don’t think of it as blackmail. Isn’t this something that benefits both of us?”
Completely unaware that he’d been played, Bo-yeol’s wrinkled old face bloomed into a wide, happy smile.