Chapter 15
Chapter 15
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 15
Chapter Title: Crystal Flower Noodle House (1)
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Golden Plum.
The price for receiving one of the ten great treasures of the world was brutal.
The Crimson Night Sword Sovereign said that he was a one-trick pony with talent, basically lacking any foundation.
If things continued like this, it was obvious he'd crumble against anyone stronger, so she declared she'd hammer into his body everything about martial arts, swordsmanship, and lightness skills, without missing a beat, at full speed.
The reason was that his innate talent was at a level worthy of being called the next greatest under heaven, so his understanding of martial arts needed to back it up, or she'd be ashamed as his master.
The result.
"Kehahaha! That's a good look in your eyes!"
"Wait, hold on, guk!"
Jin Mu-seong and Cheongun's sparring continued without end.
"Heh heh! Fights between experts ultimately come down to concentration! Victory and defeat are decided by which bastard is the tougher mutt!"
"Kuhk!"
Cheongun let out a shout and bent his entire body.
Srulk! The wooden sword grazing past his head above sliced off a few strands of hair.
"If you're only focused on the tip of the opponent's sword, you never know when or where an opening will appear! A sword is something you swing, not something that swings you, or else the host and guest switch places!"
As the next sword strike targeted his collarbone, Cheongun planted both hands on the ground and arched his body backward.
The moment he flipped backward through the air like an aerial somersault and barely escaped danger, another sword shadow flew at him.
Cheongun was amazed.
No sooner did he dodge one sword than another came flying from a different angle, and just when he thought he'd dodged that, it bent in at an angle no human wrist could possibly achieve.
It looked like a crazy old man swinging wildly at first glance, but every trajectory contained the essence of complex techniques.
Moreover, whatever she'd done to the wooden sword, it didn't even have sword qi wrapped around it, yet every hit made his muscles scream.
But Cheongun didn't give up.
There was no way the old woman would stop if he did, and he'd just get beaten even worse, so even as his whole body screamed, he had no choice but to keep moving stubbornly.
Damn old hag!
Damn sparring!
Hold your breath and your body stiffens—whack.
Your elbow isn't a lever for power, it's a rudder—whack.
Your heel lifts and your balance shakes—whack.
Don't use your waist and the sword feels heavy—whack again.
Hit, hit again, beaten relentlessly without rest.
That hellish instruction continued for several months.
Yet the reason Cheongun didn't run away was because this was undoubtedly a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Jin Mu-seong's one-sided beating made Cheongun's mind reel dizzily, but at the same time, it had the strange effect of making him think only of martial arts.
It was like the fresh memories of years spent wandering the streets in beggar rags, getting thrashed by all sorts of scum, bubbling up.
Above all, gaining profound insight into swordsmanship and the fundamentals of martial principles through his very body was an opportunity that might come once in a thousand years, if ever.
If the young masters of prestigious families saw this, they'd flip out with jealousy.
Of course, there was someone watching with a pleased smile.
"Cheong Junior Brother, you okay?"
"No. Can't you see the bruises?"
"Heh heh, after getting hit like that, of course you'd bruise."
Sharing the same master meant they were family in the end.
It had been awkward at first, but after months of growing close, Namgung Yeol's way of addressing him had changed from "Hero Cheong" to "Junior Brother Cheong."
Namgung Yeol carefully applied that precious golden wound salve to Cheongun's back as he lay sprawled after the sparring.
"It really hurts too much."
"It's fine. It'll heal quick."
"Did you grow up getting beaten by Master too, Sister Yeol?"
"No? She said women shouldn't even be hit with a leaf, so she never sparred with me once."
"......"
This crazy...
That damn old woman.
Cheongun's mouth gaped open at his master's shocking sweetness.
"There."
Namgung Yeol gave Cheongun's firm back one last stroke.
When they first met, he was a scrawny bag-of-bones beggar, but after several months here, he'd built up decent muscle and looked more like a man.
"Go on now."
"Yeah."
"Don't forget we're going to the capital tomorrow."
"The capital?"
"You asked me to find a good money house."
"Oh."
A money house was the murim world's equivalent of a proper bank.
Why seek out a bank?
Obviously to deposit money and get banknotes issued.
Cheongun was currently in a state of extreme mental unease.
When he lived as a beggar, he had nothing to lose anyway, so even if everything went to shit, his mind was at ease, but now with Gold Ingot Notes and that precious Golden Plum, his heart couldn't be more anxious.
Don't forget.
This was the ancient Central Plains, rampant with survival of the fittest and lawlessness.
To what extent? Entire sects openly made their living through theft and flaunted their names.
Some had even earned the moniker Shadowless Divine Thief solely through thieving skill and ranked among the top hundred experts.
To dispel this inner demon, he needed to cash in the Golden Plum as soon as possible and convert all his assets to banknotes.
So, what Namgung Yeol had just said was a huge consideration for him.
As much as Cheongun loved money, he became straightforward with his emotions when it came to cash.
The corner of his mouth curved up, and his eyes crinkled happily.
"Thanks."
"......"
"See ya."
Cheongun left for evening sparring.
And as she watched his retreating figure, Namgung Yeol quickly bowed her head.
Her earlobes were flushed bright red.
The next morning, Cheongun and Namgung Yeol left the manor as soon as they woke.
The distance from Qingcheng Mountain to the capital was about eighty li.
Even using lightness skills steadily, it took half a day.
Naturally, they got hungry and their legs ached along the way, so they had to rest.
Even Diamond Mountain is best after a meal, as they say.
They planned to fill their bellies before the big errand.
And so, they stopped at the roadside Crystal Flower Noodle House.
Jingle jangle.
A boy and a woman entered the noodle house at a time a bit early for lunch.
It was Cheongun and Namgung Yeol heading to the capital.
Being early, there were no other customers inside.
They plopped down at any old table, and a rat-faced waiter approached grinning with a water jug.
The waiter rolled his eyes sneakily at the two as he approached.
Sword sheath at the waist.
Fairly neat martial robes.
The guy looked like he had a nasty temper, but anyway, both had exceptionally striking looks.
And above all, physiques that seemed somewhat trained.
'Murim folk!'
Having judged, the waiter bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"Heh heh, welcome! At our Crystal Flower Noodle House, all the food is so damn tasty you'll eat two portions and not notice if one kills you! What'll it be?"
The waiter sized people up.
Like how in modern society, treatment changes based on clothes.
The Central Plains was the same. No, everywhere people lived was the same.
Martial artists usually had money, so big spenders were the best customers.
Namgung Yeol placed the order in Cheongun's stead.
"Whole chicken dish! Lamb steamed buns! Sliced pork! Thick liquor! Two bowls each!"
The waiter shouted the order loud and clear, then slipped into the kitchen.
Moments later, the table was laden with food.
Whole chicken dripping oil, steamed buns steaming away, chewy sliced pork, and thick liquor.
It was more than enough for two.
But Cheongun didn't care.
He was a Gold Ingot Note owner, after all.
This level of spending was no issue.
"Heh heh, enjoy!"
The waiter grinned and slyly stepped away.
Then he stood stock-still in the corner, observing Cheongun shoveling food into his mouth voraciously.
The Crystal Flower Noodle House looked like an ordinary noodle shop on the surface.
But it was a black shop run by the Filth Gate that also took assassination contracts.
What kind of sect was the Filth Gate?
Lower filth (下汚).
As the name implied, an organization of gutter-bottom scum banding together for power.
Their characteristic? Undoubtedly numbers.
More non-martial artists than martial artists.
Non-martial artists who blended in better than martial artists.
They carried all sorts of information across the Central Plains.
Like rats.
If the righteous factions had the Beggars' Gang, the evil factions had the Filth Gate.
As the Central Plains' top information network, it held considerable weight even among evil sects.
And recently, they'd received a contract.
The clients were the Darkwood Sect and Bloodline Pavilion.
Cheongun had killed five Darkwood Sect martial artists and sabotaged Bloodline Pavilion operatives' missions, so bring his head for a huge bounty.
The waiter hurriedly checked the description sketch.
Black hair, rude speech, boy and woman, gluttonous appetite, nasty-looking temper...
...No way?
"Excuse me, young hero."
"What."
"Might I have your name?"
"Why my name?"
"Heh heh, it's custom to note first-time guests' names. Just tell me your honorable name, and I'll comp you the thick liquor."
"Cheongun."
"......"
The waiter held his breath.
Then he whipped his head around, scanning every corner of the noodle house.
Swipe.
He lowered his raised hand.
"!!!"
Pababat—!
Masked men hidden everywhere burst out at once, pointing their swords at Cheongun.