Chapter 11
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Translator: Wjin
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Piercing Sword Sect Luoyang Branch 11
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"What's this? No answer?"
"……."
The moment the gentle smile faded from the Fragrant Flower Pavilion owner's lips, a figure in black robes hurriedly emerged from the shadows.
He knelt respectfully before her, took a small breath, and carefully offered his advice.
"Have you already forgotten about 'that day'? If word of today's events reaches the head branch, the sect leader will be furious."
"……."
"And if I may be so bold, I believe once is enough when it comes to handing the pillars of our Lower Five Gates to a mad gambler."
"……Shut up."
"Please don't take my words amiss. Give the order after careful consideration."
"I said shut up."
"Young leader."
The Luoyang's Finest Tower, Fragrant Flower Pavilion.
It was the city's premier high-class brothel, a rite of passage for men on the rise, and a paradise on earth for the city's playboys.
But its true identity was the Luoyang branch of the Lower Five Gates, known for hearing every whisper under heaven.
Naturally, the pavilion's owner was no mere madam.
Her real identity was Hong So-hye, branch chief of the Lower Five Gates' Luoyang division and only daughter of its leader, the Thousand Faces Ghost Guest.
"Don't make me repeat myself. Get out there and dig into everything about the Jang family young master first. Find out who he's meeting now, if any vixen-like women are hanging around him, how he's been living since 'that day'—put it all together in a report. Oh, and keep today's mess completely secret from Dad."
"……."
"Once that's done, scour the Black Society and Red Dragon Gang too. I don't know the full situation, but those worthless scum are clearly scheming to swindle our innocent young Jang master."
I'm pretty sure it's the other way around...
Bi-yeong swallowed the words rising in his throat—after all, he only had one life to lose.
He glanced at Hong So-hye, her eyes sparkling with excitement at the thought of meeting Jang So-cheon, then cautiously spoke up.
"Young leader."
"Yeah? What? You still here? I gave the order ages ago—why are you moving so slow? Has discipline slipped while I was away?"
"Ahem! As if that could happen."
"Then why are you still glued to the floor? Get going already!"
At Hong So-hye's sharp rebuke, Bi-yeong couldn't voice what he'd meant to say and had no choice but to stand.
"Whew, how long have I been back in Luoyang, and you're already giving me work."
Bi-yeong slipped out of the Fragrant Flower Pavilion with a faint sigh.
As he left for Luoyang, he recalled how the Thousand Faces Ghost Guest had pulled him aside in secret and laid down the law.
"If So-hye causes any trouble in Luoyang this time, I'll shave her head bald and ship her off to the Emei Sect. Report to me immediately if you see even a hint of mischief."
The Thousand Faces Ghost Guest always kept his word once spoken.
But when it came to punishments involving his hard-won only daughter, born late in life, he always backed down.
Even when she threw tantrums about marrying that mad gambler.
Even when she hired Luoyang's top gamblers to stage absurd clown shows just to boost the guy's ego, only to blow up the whole casino.
The Thousand Faces Ghost Guest merely tore at his own hair in frustration, never touching a single strand of hers.
Even a precious jewel raised with utmost care deserved a proper scolding when needed.
Would she shatter if grabbed? Fly away if scolded?
The Thousand Faces Ghost Guest never uttered a harsh word to Hong So-hye, spoiling her rotten—and now he was paying the karma back double in his old age.
"When he gets today's report, I hope he doesn't yank out the few hairs he has left..."
His once-lush mane from youth was thinning from worries over his child, well on its way to leaving him the Bald Ghost Guest.
Bi-yeong felt genuine pity. But he couldn't slack on his duties because of it.
He took position atop a pavilion overlooking the Piercing Sword Sect's Luoyang Branch, drafted a quick report, and released a messenger pigeon.
"Please keep your temper in check and preserve your hair."
Flutter!
The pigeon soared into the sky, and soon the rooster's crow heralded the dawn.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇
Cock-a-doodle-doo!
Today's rooster crow was as mighty as ever.
Whoever raised it must have a real talent for poultry—nobody else could produce such a powerhouse.
"Hoo..."
I exhaled steadily, finishing my meditation.
I'd returned to the branch at dawn and barely slept, but the Great One's Jade Wood Divine Art left my mind refreshed as if I'd slumbered deeply.
"A clear mind really does lighten the body."
I donned my martial robe and headed from my quarters to the training grounds.
Normally, Yeo Chu-sam and Wang Mun-gi would have beaten me there, warmed up and ready.
But today, for some reason, those two were dragging their feet.
Or maybe it was just that I, who usually dawdled every day, had come out early for once.
"Even days like this happen."
A true martial artist trains at the same time, same place every day.
That's the way it is.
Regardless of circumstances, those who walk the blade's edge in the jianghu can't neglect training for a moment.
Skip a day, and your reactions dull. Two days, and your razor-sharp senses blunt. By the third, your skills start to regress.
It was the nagging from my master I'd heard since childhood, drilled into my ears.
To some, the idea that a decade of built skill could fade in three days might sound absurd.
But disciples of the Piercing Sword Sect, who wield quick-draw strikes staking life on a single thrust, took it to heart.
Shweeeee!
"No, too slow."
Shweeeee!
"Not that either. Faster."
Shweeeeeeee!
"Faster! Faster! Even faster!"
I faced a wooden dummy, unleashing precise thrusts from a fixed stance.
The drill was simple: thrust. Just speed mattered.
A motion even sword beginners could mimic.
But its power was tremendous.
With each twitch of my shoulder, like lightning from a clear sky, my sword tip shot toward the dummy.
Thuk! Thuk! Thuk!
Temples, philtrum, throat, heart, dantian.
Vitals that could be fatally wounded even by a hand chop, pierced one by one.
At first, one strike per spot, straightforward.
But speed built visibly; a single swing seemed to produce chained impacts.
Kwak! Kwakwak! Kwakwakwak!
Two, three, four...
The hits multiplied, and by the end, one thrust pierced seven spots at once.
An astonishing feat.
Even a renowned peak expert of Luoyang couldn't fully block this barrage.
But sadly, it didn't satisfy me.
"Tch, cutting it close."
I wasn't expecting gains after slacking on training lately.
I just wanted to maintain my current level.
Yet seeing my final thrust—aimed simultaneously at the Heaven-Thrust Acupoint and the Shoulder Well—miss by half an inch, even that fell short. It irked me.
"Guess I'll focus on regaining my old feel for a while."
I caught my breath, then moved to Ten Targets One Sword practice.
Piercing ten targets with one sword sounds impossible at first.
But with practice, you reach eight or nine.
At my peak, I'd hit eight a couple times; even past sixty, my master did nine like eating rice.
By that logic, ten wasn't out of the question.
"Hoo! Hoo! Hoo...!"
Using minimal inner energy, sticking to basics, my breath quickly rose to my throat.
Thick sweat poured like rain from my brow and neck.
My robe top was soaked through, like a downpour on a clear day.
"Senior brother?"
Yeo Chu-sam arrived late, eyes crusty and disheveled, blinking in surprise at my unusual state.
Wang Mun-gi, sporting a massive bedhead, couldn't hide his shock either.
"Mm..."
I got their awkward reactions.
Unlike my usual perfunctory sessions, here I was doing the real deal at dawn.
Anyone from the sect would react the same.
"You're a bit late."
"Pardon?"
"It happens."
"……Pardon?"
"I didn't say it to scold you, so no worries."
"……."
"……."
"Why the faces? Something on mine?"
Yeo Chu-sam and Wang Mun-gi seemed uncomfortable with my suddenly serious demeanor, like when we first arrived in Luoyang.
They edged back, stealing glances and whispering among themselves.
"Mun-gi, what do we do about senior brother? Looks like yesterday broke him good."
"Tch, what can we do? Time heals heartbreak."
"Yeah, don't climb trees out of reach, I said. But senior brother couldn't read the room and went after Fragrant Flower Pavilion fairies."
"He's getting on in years; side must feel empty."
"Nah, if it was that, he'd ask the neighborhood grannies to play matchmaker."
"Then?"
"Remember that time? Late-blooming lust. Yeah, late-blooming."
"Hm, looking back at his behavior... yeah, that tracks."
"Told ya."
For some reason, their sidelong glances felt insolent as they chatted.
Normally, I'd sharpen my hearing with qi or nitpick to interrogate them.
But after yesterday, I'd vowed to wash away my past mistakes and be reborn.
"Ahem! Juniors? Instead of whispering there, why not come over and chat together?"
"……."
"I've got something important to discuss, too."
"……Something important?"
"Yes."
At my mention of "important," Yeo Chu-sam and Wang Mun-gi wiped the smirks off, faces turning serious.
I eyed them alternately, paused dramatically, then dropped the bomb in a meaningful tone.
"I'm entering the Luoyang martial tournament again to challenge Mount Hua Sect's Cheong-su, the Plum Blossom Sword Hero."