Peace Shattered at Shin Yang Sect
Shin Yang Sect was a peaceful place.
Precisely speaking, it had been peaceful.
"So... you're saying this guy right here is the sect leader?"
Because some crazy bitch had neatly lopped off the sect leader's head.
Then dumped the body right next to where his son was buried, even spreading rumors that father and son were spending quality time together in harmony.
No matter how charitably you looked at it, you couldn't call that peaceful.
"Yes. Does that bother you?"
The sect's senior disciple shook his head with a bitter expression.
The murim world belonged to the strong, after all.
The woman in front of him had killed four first-rate experts and a peak realm master barehanded. Not one, but two of them.
Even though Shin Yang Sect claimed to be righteous, justice only mattered when your life was guaranteed. So all he could do was nod.
"We knew the sect leader and young master had strayed down the wrong path."
"Right?"
"But this level of corpse desecration is excessive... Could you lower your sword first and talk?"
"Nah, I didn't call you over for chit-chat."
Namgoong Juhee drew the Shin Yang Sect leader's sword and tapped it lightly.
"See this engraving on the sword?"
"...Isn't that a cloud shape?"
"Yeah. Supposed to represent Wudang Sect, right? What do you think?"
"What do I think... What do you want us to do?"
"Beats me? Isn't that for you guys to figure out?"
By this point, even a saint would've had veins bulging on his forehead.
Should I just slice him up?
Shin Yang Sect paid a hefty tribute to the government. No matter how much of a murim warrior you were, going against the authorities wasn't easy.
That was when the man harbored such thoughts.
"Juhee, don't be like that."
A frail voice came from behind.
When you traveled with a group of two, there was always one thinker. It seemed they wanted to wrap things up quietly now, mutually covering it all up.
So thought the senior disciple.
He was wrong.
"Huh? What're you talking about? Wrap it up here?"
"No, you have to clearly state what you want. Leaving it vague to the other side just leads to screw-ups."
"...?"
"Oh my, why the dumb look? Ah, if you're counting on the government, you're barking up the wrong tree."
Yi Hayeon smiled brightly and flicked a silver coin with her finger.
"We've got more money than we know what to do with."
"...Tell us what you want."
"Good. First, hand over all of Shin Yang Sect's ledgers."
"The ledgers?"
"Why? Got something to hide?"
Of course they did.
Like the sect leader's bad habit of lending out huge sums of money, or the cash funneled into manipulating public opinion.
Shin Yang Sect was meticulous about their bookkeeping.
Meaning most dealings, including the ones mentioned, were recorded there.
If those ledgers leaked outside, Shin Yang Sect's downfall was as good as guaranteed. Even their protectors in Wudang Sect would take a hit to their reputation.
"...Understood."
"Great. You can be reasonable, huhu."
The senior disciple accepted their demand anyway.
Someone was holding a sword to his throat, literally.
And that 'someone' was one crazy bitch and one rich, obsessive woman.
Resisting would just bring disaster.
"Please wait a moment. I'll fetch them right away."
"Sure. Thanks."
And so the senior disciple slowly made his way toward the accounting hall.
The price of choosing the wrong sect to join.
. . .
"What do you think, Hayeon?"
"Perfect. With this, we can even take down Wudang Sect."
Yi Hayeon laughed refreshingly.
Juhee chuckled lightly in response.
Take down? Since when did she talk so rough? Kinda... hot.
Yi Hayeon would've shed bloody tears if she knew.
But she had no mind-reading skills.
She was just thrilled to be helping Juhee.
"What now?"
"What's to say? Crush Wudang too."
"Mm... sure. I meant how to crush them."
Namgoong Juhee stared at Yi Hayeon with a blank look.
A face screaming, I got nothin'.
Yi Hayeon gazed back with an I knew it expression.
"First option: formally protest to the Murim Alliance."
"Murim Alliance?"
"Yes, the gathering of righteous warriors. Major factions include the Nine Great Sects and..."
"Nah, I know that much."
"Oh? Unexpected."
Yi Hayeon was genuinely impressed.
Juhee knowing something. A rare sight.
"...What I'm wondering is, what changes if we tell the Murim Alliance? They'll just guanxi their way out of it, right? Nothing happens."
"Exactly."
Juhee was now in her 20th year of Chinese life.
She had a decent grasp of how the murim world worked, including guanxi.
These bastards even had friendship levels like a pyramid scheme.
Acquaintance, friend, real friend, bestie—four tiers. At 'real friend' level, they overlooked most crimes.
And most organizations lumped people into the third tier.
Meaning the Shin Yang incident would likely be swept under the rug.
"They'll issue a stern warning at most. No real punishment, of course."
"Pass. Next one."
"Huhu, right? Then, option two."
Yi Hayeon shoved the ledger in front of Juhee's eyes.
Her finger tapped one entry.
"Mm... Hobuk Branch?"
"Yes, Hobuk Branch. Know it?"
"Nope?"
"Huhu, figured."
Figured what? You think I'm an idiot?
That was Namgoong Juhee's thought—and spot on.
Juhee's usual common sense-free antics made it easy to assume.
"Hobuk Branch is a sparring tournament for late-stage disciples from Hobuk."
"Mm-hmm, so?"
"The prize matters. Setting aside the Tae Cheong Dan, you get a private audience with Wudang's sect leader."
"Oho."
"Perfect way to hold them directly accountable. Nothing better."
"Nice. Snag the Tae Cheong Dan too. And it'll be fun."
"Right? Tournaments double as festivals. Tons of gourmet delights you love, Juhee. Booze too."
At Yi Hayeon's words, Namgoong Juhee's eyes sparkled.
Food! Booze!
Shin Yang's cuisine was tasty, but something was missing.
Big cities had the real deal.
Couldn't beat Hefei or Wuhu's heartfelt hospitality.
But festival food was different.
Flavor second—the atmosphere was the real spice.
"Head out now?"
"Huhu, so cute. Yes, let's go."
"Roger. Tae Cheong Dan, food, Wudang—you're all fucked."
Namgoong Juhee wiped her drool and strode off.
Off to Hobuk.
Juhee had completely forgotten Sichuan's mala tang.
. . .
"Ugh..."
These days, groans echoed more often than not from Wudang Mountain's peak.
Prepping a festival meant grinding the staff to dust.
And murim folk could pull all-nighters for days. They could even take a proper shit under those conditions.
"...Senior brother."
"What, Cheongmyeong?"
"I can handle the grind. If one of us juniors or seniors wins the Tae Cheong Dan, I can skip sleep a few more days."
"True."
"The problem is this guy. Why the hell is Hwangbo Un coming all the way to Hobuk to stir shit?"
Cheongmyeong jabbed the participant list and ranted.
"He's blatantly here to steal the Tae Cheong Dan, right?"
"Sigh, our fault for not expecting the Hwangbo bastards. Next time, explicitly ban Hobuk natives in the recruitment."
"Sigh..."
"Silver lining: no other real competition besides Hwangbo Un."
"...True."
"It's a tournament with over thirty Wudang disciples alone. If thirty can't beat one Hwangbo Un, they don't deserve the pill."
Five of those thirty were peak realm, the rest first-rate.
If they ganged up in rotations against Hwangbo Un, defeat was near impossible.
"Excluding Hwangbo Un, no standout warriors."
"All Hobuk martial artists are under our sect. Learning watered-down versions of our swordsmanship—no way superiors emerge."
"Right. We've scouted every faction's talents thoroughly. We snag the promising ones straight to headquarters."
"Mm... yeah. Except that recent one... Shin Yang Sect? Everyone else, we've vetted the disciples ourselves."
"Just a minor sect. No big deal."
"Yeah, probably. Anyway, let's wrap this up. I need sleep."
The two focused on work.
Unaware that 'no big deal' was heading straight for Hobuk.