The Sound of a Temple Bell and a Pig's Trotter
Lee Wang-chul’s mind spun at frightening speed. The situation with Advisor Bang was already hopeless. The twisted arm was in such a critical state that even if he survived, he would live the rest of his life as a cripple. But to become a cripple, one first had to survive. More pressing was the wound on his neck. A killer seasoned in murder had clearly slashed with the intent to kill. How could one possibly stop the bleeding from a throat wound? If you tried to staunch it by pressing on the neck, you would strangle the person before the bleeding even became an issue. Therefore, Lee Wang-chul’s concern was not how to save Advisor Bang.
“Damn it. The advisor the Sadoryeon lent us.”
The real problem was the Sadoryeon. They had lent him one of their senior advisors, yet not only had he failed to treat the man with proper respect, he had let him die under his watch. (He wasn’t dead yet.) How on earth was he supposed to explain this?
Even if he claimed, “We found Advisor Bang dead while he was on his way to the privy,” it would never fly as an excuse. They would surely roar back: You let a frail advisor go to the privy alone? You provincial gangsters dare not attend to a senior advisor properly? You should have laid out silk along the path so not a speck of dust would touch him! And you call that an excuse?
It was obvious they would only grow angrier. Of course, no one in the world would want someone following them all the way to the privy, but such was the sorrow of a minor faction. Therefore, there was only one way to avoid their wrath.
Revenge!
At the very least, he had to find the culprit, exact thorough vengeance, and loudly proclaim to the world that this was what happened when one dared touch a treasured talent of the Sadoryeon. Only then would the Sadoryeon have grounds to show leniency.
A fiery spark ignited in Lee Wang-chul’s eyes. Naturally, this was not out of any personal grudge over the death of his long-time associate, Advisor Bang. Lee Wang-chul was, after all, a man of the Unorthodox Path, and hatred for scholars was basic common sense among such people. A mere third-class martial artist who strutted around arrogantly—Advisor Bang had never been likable. And the fact that he had died so pathetically only proved he was a meddlesome idiot.
Lee Wang-chul’s rage stemmed purely from the damage done to himself.
Fuck. Now I can’t ask the Sadoryeon for help again.
Just one more crate of spiritual medicine and we could have jumped straight past the county level to become a major faction with real influence. All because of that damn scholar and whoever killed him.
“Find the bastard. Even if he doesn’t exist, find him.”
The order to “find him even if he doesn’t exist” was not some motivational nonsense about searching with unbreakable spirit. It meant that if he wasn’t there, they were to create one.
At his command, the warriors of the Salwol-pa simultaneously flung open the sliding doors.
Telepathy
Outside, on the observation deck railing attached to the outer side of the guest rooms at Jinhae Pavilion. That was why Gyeon Po-hui could perform the magical feat of opening the door on the opposite corridor after supposedly stepping out for some fresh air.
“What the—why are you coming from there?”
Gyeon Po-hui gave a shy little smile, then pressed her lips right up to Cheong’s ear and whispered sweetly.
“I went to pee.”
Hmm. That was information Cheong truly did not need to know. And did she really have to say it while Cheong was still slurping down the rich broth of the aging wild ginseng soup? Well, it was refreshing in its own way. But then again, it was Hui-mae. She could get away with it. Because she was Hui-mae.
In truth, Cheong was not the delicate sort whose stomach would turn over such a minor thing. She cackled and asked back.
“So? Was it refreshing?”
“Yep.”
“How was it in there? Clean?”
“Yep. Must be because it’s a nice inn.”
That was welcome news. Clean privies were rare. I should go later too, Cheong thought.
It was then that a tremendous racket of crashing, shattering, and breaking erupted from outside. Someone was shouting, and someone else was letting out a piercing scream.
The members of the Hwaryong-jo all froze at once, as if they had rehearsed it, and shut their mouths. Jo Hak-cheo, who had been glaring at Changbin with bloodshot eyes full of murderous intent, suddenly wore a grave expression and tapped the table.
The young men seated at the outer tables immediately slid open the doors facing the railing, letting in the night air. At the same time, a thick haze of alcohol rose up. The Hwaryong-jo members had simultaneously expelled their drunken qi, filling the room with a dense alcoholic mist. They hadn’t opened the doors for nothing; the mist soon melted away into the night breeze.
Oh. Not bad.
Cheong was impressed. This was the true power of the Orthodox Path… or rather, it was simply because two of the Murim Five Flowers plus one peerless beauty had entered the drinking party. If it had been only men, or men with gisaeng, they wouldn’t have snapped into battle readiness so elegantly.
In that sense, one could say it was all thanks to Cheong’s shameless intrusion. Or perhaps it was the glorious achievement of her gluttonous appetite that made her stick her face into anything involving food and drink without thinking.
Meanwhile, the sounds of crashing, screaming, and shrieking drew steadily closer. Finally—bang! The sliding door flew off its frame and spun through the air.
Completely ignoring the proper etiquette of sliding doors sideways in the Central Plains, a Salwol-pa warrior who had rudely shoved it forward instead burst in with a ferocious roar.
“Kneel, you bastards… huh?”
He had made a splendid entrance meant to seize the initiative. But upon seeing roughly thirty weapons pointed at him, the warrior’s voice trailed off.
Thirty members of the Hwaryong-jo. Plus three more. A forest of blades and swords all politely requesting a handshake.
The Salwol-pa warrior began to back away with unnatural smoothness, as if using the Sadoryeon’s secret technique “Let’s Pretend This Never Happened,” making it seem as though time itself was rewinding—
Swish. A chilling sound brushed past his ear. He hadn’t even seen what flew by.
The warrior froze in place. Then, with a solemn expression, he spoke.
“Shall I kneel?”
Jo Hak-cheo gave a dignified nod. The warrior dropped to his knees with a thud and laid down his greatsword.
In this place, at least two people aside from everyone else were righteous heroes of the Orthodox Path. In other words, except for those two, no one here would bother cutting down an opponent who had already lost the will to fight and chosen peaceful surrender.
Jo Hak-cheo spoke in a much gentler tone.
Jo Hak-cheo might lose his mind whenever he saw a woman, but at his core, he was the very model of a proper young hero that all the male rising stars of the Orthodox Path admired. (Though to the female rising stars, he ranked first in “most unpleasant to look at,” “most burdensome,” and “person I least want to run into.”)
“My friend, what is all this commotion in a tavern shared by many? Of course, when people get angry, especially when drunk, it is only natural that—”
“Aha! It’s these guys! These are the ones!”
A shout rudely cut off Jo Hak-cheo’s well-meaning admonishment. The sound of many rushing footsteps followed. In an instant, more sliding doors were smashed apart as Salwol-pa warriors lined up in a neat encirclement, blades in hand.
And finally, the sect leader made his entrance!
Lee Wang-chul appeared with an air of lofty arrogance, exuding the composure of an expert. It wasn’t that he actually felt composed; he simply believed this was the only way to look cool. It was a practical life hack for intimidating opponents by making them think he had something up his sleeve.
As he strode in with maximum gravitas, Lee Wang-chul’s gaze suddenly landed not on the peerless beauty he had never seen even in his dreams, but on the slightly plainer beauty standing beside her. (This was why standing next to a sharp stone meant you got hit.)
Isn’t that Jin Seol? What is she doing here?
If Jin Seol hadn’t been present, he would have thought they were just some sword-wielding brats. But with her there, they were clearly not mere brats.
“Ahem. Ahem. This one is Lee Wang-chul, leader of the Salwol-pa. It seems there has been some misunderstanding. My subordinates are currently enraged while searching for the culprit who brutally murdered an advisor from the Sadoryeon. It appears we have committed a discourtesy.”
The sect leader’s choice was a swift retreat. It hurt his pride, but what could he do? They were outnumbered, and if he touched the wrong people, the Sadoryeon would become the least of his problems. As the head of a faction, it was a perfectly reasonable decision.
Jo Hak-cheo fell into brief thought. The Salwol-pa were definitely Unorthodox Path scum. His side had the advantage in numbers, but the other side had more old monsters. As the leader responsible for protecting his members, he couldn’t just start swinging blades recklessly. Besides, the Hwaryong-jo was a reserve combat unit formed for the rising stars to gain experience and expand their networks.
If I’d known this would happen, I should have brought the senior brothers from the Black Dragon Squad.
Left with no choice, he could only play along.
“The culprit who murdered an advisor of the Sadoryeon? What are you talking about? You mean to say such a tragic incident occurred in the middle of the night?”
Lee Wang-chul’s eyebrows twitched slightly. This brat. No matter that we’re from opposing paths, I am clearly his senior and elder, yet he dares speak to me so casually? Still, he understood the signal that they should settle this with words.
Asking what had happened in the first place was essentially saying they had come to the wrong room, that it had nothing to do with them, so they should stop meddling and leave quietly. He couldn’t very well charge in just because he found the polite refusal unpleasant.
“Ahem. One of the Sadoryeon’s advisors had stepped out during the banquet for some fresh air and was discovered as a corpse. Since blood was still flowing, we judged the culprit could not be far and were conducting a search. Unfortunately, we seem to have ruined the mood here.”
“Ah, is that so? Hmm.”
It was then that Cheong suddenly cut in, raising her voice.
“Once the mood is broken, you can’t just patch it back together, can you? If you’re really that sorry, how about paying for our drinks at least? What good are empty words?”
At that, faint smiles crept across the faces of the Hwaryong-jo members. If they could say they had made the Unorthodox Path scum apologize by treating them to drinks, it would make for quite the heroic tale to spread far and wide.
Conversely, Lee Wang-chul’s expression crumpled. This green little bitch. Who does she think she is, trying to humiliate me?
But between the Orthodox and Unorthodox Paths, even a trivial dispute could turn into a serious duel. Lee Wang-chul realized he had misspoken. He had essentially admitted fault, then nailed it shut by saying he was sorry. What now?
If he bought them drinks, he would become the idiot who cowered before a greenhorn and offered up his gold and silver. If he refused, he would be seen as a petty man who couldn’t even afford a single round. Saying he had never apologized or that he wasn’t sorry would be outright insult. An attack would come flying immediately.
A true dilemma with no escape!
Of course, when it came to tormenting villains, Cheong was more sincere than anyone in the world. In those moments, her brain operated at maximum output, causing her intelligence to soar. But this time, she had simply thrown out a provocation, thinking she might as well take a swing with her blade. Didn’t I already clean up two? One left. If I smash this sect leader’s head in, the rest are just a bunch of rabble. Might as well wipe them all out and leave with a light heart.
The Hwaryong-jo members, completely unaware, were inwardly holding back their admiration a thousand times over. They thought they had stumbled upon the story of a lifetime—one they would brag about all over town once the mission was over.
The Heavenly Flower Sword possesses wit as great as her beauty!
A massive misunderstanding and complete nonsense, of course.
It was then.
“Huh. That guy. Isn’t that the person from earlier?”
Gyeon Po-hui pointed at Advisor Bang’s corpse being carried out behind Lee Wang-chul.
“Hui-mae? What do you mean, that person?”
“He kept grabbing my wrist, telling me to pour him drinks, kiss him, and do what a man and woman do together. So I smashed him.”
Everyone fell silent at once.
Ah. So it was Hui-mae.
Well, Hui-mae would do that.
Because she’s Hui-mae.
Ah… So it really was our side.
Fuck. It really was these bastards.
The same thought flashed through everyone’s minds.
In that instant, Cheong struck first.
“How dare you! To think you would dare molest my sworn sister, the Heavenly Flower Sword’s sworn sister! A pack of lecherous demons blinded by Hui-mae’s beauty tried to harass her, drag her away by force, and commit all sorts of depraved acts! This cannot be forgiven!”
“What—”
“No questions needed!”
Boom!
For some reason, black dust rose as Cheong’s figure shot forward. The moment Lee Wang-chul flinched and raised his blade—
The sound of a temple bell rang out—solemn, immense, yet not deafening.
Whenever one spoke of the Heavenly Flower Sword, the Buddha’s Palm came to mind. When one spoke of the Buddha’s Palm, one thought of Shaolin Temple. And when one spoke of Shaolin Temple, one thought of the Great Master of Martial Studies. Since the Great Master himself had bestowed the title of Heavenly Flower Sword, one could, if one tried hard enough, connect the dots—even if it was a bit of a stretch.
Lee Wang-chul realized too late. He had forgotten about that legendary divine art in favor of crude jokes like “successor of the Buddha’s Palm” or “three heads and six arms” or “five buckets of great satisfaction.”
But it was already too late. The Buddha’s Palm, carrying terrifying force, struck the ground beneath his feet.
Crack!
Martial arts began from the feet. Conversely, that also meant that the moment the ground beneath one’s feet collapsed, martial arts could not begin.
And by then, the Heavenly Flower Sword’s figure had already closed in right before his eyes. Her hand flashed upward. In that hand, as pale and beautiful as transparent white jade, was a weapon. A pig’s trotter wrapped in sunset-colored qi—
Lee Wang-chul’s eyes widened.
A pig’s trotter!
He couldn’t die from being beaten to death by a pig’s trotter!