Chapter 18
Chapter 18
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 18
Chapter Title: Beggars' Sect Beggars (8)
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Beggars' Sect Emei Branch Chief.
Emei Branch Leader, Gwak Du Uncle.
As if announcing his position in the Beggars' Sect, three knots hang from his waist.
In this novel, *Blood Path*, he is the benefactor who fed, raised, and helped me after I possessed the orphan beggar.
Setting aside that he's my benefactor, I couldn't find anyone as respectable as Gwak Du Uncle.
Should I say he's the one who best embodies "come empty-handed, leave empty-handed"?
He occasionally indulges in petty greed, but in crucial moments, he stands firm before wealth, upholding only his convictions.
His perceptiveness and wits are so sharp that I sometimes thought if such an uncle existed in the modern world, he'd be an executive at some company.
...No. He's too kind-hearted; he might lack the ruthlessness to become one.
Anyway, that's the kind of person he is.
That's why, when he's the enemy, the pressure is unbearable.
"Huh? Seojin, my boy. What's that?"
Hiding it behind me would only heighten their suspicions.
I awkwardly cleared my throat and hesitantly pulled out the martial robe.
Among the three beggar uncles who had entered the house, Gu Yeong Uncle spoke up.
"Huh? That's an Emei Sect martial robe. Why do you have it?"
The uncles' gazes all turned to me at once.
They looked fierce like drowned rats, but I knew this was a critical turning point.
One wrong word, and these uncles would all head to the basement.
They are journalists of the Central Plains.
They can't resist hot news.
The information they bring to the Beggars' Sect allows the rest of the sect to sell it and beg for food to survive, so they can't let go of any intriguing topic.
And here, information on none other than the Emei Sect's Thousand-Year Flower, Cheongwol?
...No, putting that aside, the moment they saw Cheongwol's face, we'd all be dead—me and these uncles.
This basement has already become Pandora's box.
Open it out of curiosity, and everyone dies.
I naturally furrowed my brow as I replied.
"Ugh... well. I told you I went to buy straw rope from the Emei Sect, right? They asked me a favor then."
The last uncle, Machildeuk Uncle, picked his nose and asked.
"What?"
"No... their martial robes are uncomfortable. Especially around the arms? They asked if I could make them... more comfortable. Ah, don't flick your booger in my house—"
"—Why would they ask you?"
"...It just happened that way. You know how it goes. Since I make leather goods, they probably thought I could do it."
"Hmm... I see."
Gwak Du Uncle set down the food and said.
"Spread out the robe."
I grew a bit defensive.
Spread out the martial robe Cheongwol had just taken off?
Wouldn't that be ethically questionable...?
No, and if Cheongwol was hearing all this from below...
"W-what do you mean spread it out...!"
"No... what's the big deal about looking at a robe. Spread it."
"..."
Unable to withstand the uncles' stares, I cautiously lifted the martial robe.
For some reason, I felt an illusion of Cheongwol's body scent rising.
"...It smells like flowers."
It wasn't just me; Gu Yeong Uncle murmured softly.
"I've never looked at an Emei martial robe this closely... but it has that feel, you know? Like their nuns—you feel sorry even making eye contact. So pure and refined."
Machildeuk Uncle also admired the robe.
Only Gwak Du Uncle quietly examined it up and down before asking.
"...Is this Junior Cheongwol's robe?"
My heart skipped a beat in shock.
I quickly hid the robe and shouted.
"What nonsense is that!"
"No... it looks exactly like Junior Cheongwol's size."
"Pfft, pure bullshit. They probably just gave me some spare robe. How would I know whose it is?"
"Hmm..."
Gwak Du Uncle's sharp eyes were always chillingly accurate.
Like a martial artist swinging a sword is a monster, these Beggars' Sect uncles had monstrously keen senses.
I deliberately treated the robe even more like trash and tossed it onto my bed.
"Enough. Let's go to the inn. Stop dirtying up my house standing around. If your smell lingers and ruins my business, will you take responsibility?"
"We already washed off in the rain, kid. We're clean today."
"Y-you still stink!! Fine, fine! Let's go quick."
I started walking, but no one followed.
Instead, the uncles just exchanged glances.
Then Gu Yeong Uncle spoke.
"...No, why go anywhere. Let's eat here. Big Brother brought booze and dumplings."
"Why's the usual cheapskate acting up today?"
Machildeuk Uncle, on the other hand, approached the robe I'd tossed.
"This... let me just sniff it once, Seojin boy. When will I get to smell an Emei disciple's robe—"
"—Hey!!"
I roughly yanked the approaching uncle away and clutched the robe tightly again.
"Uncle, are you crazy? If the Emei Sect finds out, your head's gone!"
If she heard that from below, the uncle's done for!!
Who knows when that demon would burst out unable to hold back.
Machildeuk Uncle glared at me suspiciously instead.
"...How would they find out. And what's with overreacting to a little joke... Heh heh, this kid's acting weird today? Right, Big Brother."
Gwak Du Uncle also gave a meaningful look.
"...Indeed."
Gu Yeong Uncle teased.
"Ah, cut the kid some slack. Probably got a crush on the owner of that robe or something."
The uncles burst into their uncle laughter at that.
Ignoring them, I crammed Cheongwol's martial robe into the box beside my bed.
My mind raced furiously.
Cheongwol was down there in just her undergarments.
What the hell do I do?
****
Cheongwol realized that the Beggars' Sect beggars who were close to Han Seojin upstairs had come.
Her heart pounded wildly.
"Haa... haa..."
What kind of beings are Beggars' Sect beggars?
Filthy, uncultured, and fond of spreading others' stories.
People at the complete opposite end from Cheongwol.
If they discovered her in this state.
...Cheongwol knew she'd die of shame and wouldn't be able to live anymore.
The hot flush from the humiliation inflicted by Han Seojin had faded, replaced now by cold reason screaming danger.
Without Han Seojin beside her, the same shame felt entirely different.
What had been a calculated crisis before was now a true one.
Out of that fear, she blinked.
She saw nothing.
Cheongwol crouched in place as if trying to hide her body.
Clothes. Where are the clothes?
Han Seojin must have left them behind?
Cheongwol groped along the floor, crawling.
Something she'd never do normally, but being caught undressed by those beggars was far more humiliating.
-Thud!
"Eek!"
Crawling along the floor, Cheongwol bumped into something.
It made a somewhat loud noise.
But there was no time to dwell on the pain.
She continued groping the floor.
-Thud!
Her head bumped into something again.
But again, terror wouldn't let her stop.
Cheongwol kept groping the floor.
****
-Thud!
"..."
"..."
I pretended not to hear, but the uncles exchanged glances.
Gwak Du Uncle spoke first.
"Seojin, my boy. From the basement..."
"Huh? What."
-Thud.
"..."
"..."
"...There's noise from the basement. What is it."
"Rats, probably baby rats."
I whispered.
If they found out I called Cheongwol a baby rat, I wouldn't survive.
My sense of crisis and tension were peaking.
I could feel their suspicions growing.
To keep them from rushing to the basement on a whim, I sat on the basement door, knowing full well it would fuel their doubts.
"Ugh... well, if we're not going to the inn, let's just drink quick. Don't just stand around."
Gotta eat fast and send them off quick.
Glancing up at the uncles, they exchanged looks again...
"..."
"..."
Finally, they shrugged and sat around me.
I breathed a sigh of relief.
Seemed like I'd passed one hurdle.
"For now, how've you been, Seojin? Have a drink."
And the drinking session began.
.
.
.
In *Blood Path*—this world's setting—there's one thing the righteous sects obsess over.
Fame.
Martial artists are ultimately monstrously strong warriors.
But conversely, they're people who have nothing but their swords.
They don't farm, fish, or run trade caravans.
They might escort caravans under contract or take missions, but...
Even that isn't steady, stable income.
Nor can they openly plunder or rob civilians like the evil sects.
Because they're righteous.
So their chosen path to survival is fame.
They save the weak, uphold justice, and leave感動 through martial arts.
That感動 spreads as word of mouth across the martial world, becoming the strongest driver for aid to their sects.
They live off the love they receive.
Grain, silver, clothes, herbs, weapons...
In the overflowing Central Plains, even a single grain of rice per person sustains a sect for years.
Some entrust children to sects, others leave legacies in gratitude for past saves.
All fruits of trust in "this sect is righteous."
Fame is capital, influence, power.
In other words, sects are like agencies.
The martial artists they produce are stars, and the sect's fate and future hinge on those stars' star power.
Thus, they are terrifyingly sensitive to every rumor and nickname spreading in the martial world.
First, nicknames.
Nicknames are titles verifying that star.
Supreme Under Heaven. Greatest of Past and Present. Three Venerables. Ten Great Masters.
King of Whatever. Lord of Whatever. Sage. Phoenix. Dragon. Etc...
Flashy titles are the best marketing tools for sects.
Even one signboard figure like that skyrockets the sect's prestige.
Like bragging in sports, "Our team has the top scorer."
And just as established martial artists draw attention, promising young prospects attract massive interest.
Rising stars naturally draw focus through expectation.
Of course, sects have different flavors like agencies, and the values they promote differ.
Shaolin's gravity is their charm; Emei's purity and nobility are their values.
Which sect Central Plains folk love more depends on the values they cherish most.
Nicknames should align with those values.
Next, rumors.
'Wudang's Sword Venerable swept bandits from Wudang Mountain.'
'Sichuan Tang Clan's Poison Phoenix saved twenty maidens.'
'The beautiful Emei Sect's Thousand-Year Flower has already reached first-rate realm.'
Etc...
Even one such tale elevates a sect's name among Central Plains folk.
It stirs excitement, chills of awe, reassurance they'll be protected.
But no matter how juicy the rumor, it needs spreaders.
Enter Beggars' Sect and Hao Gate.
Beggars' Sect circulates relatively credible info.
Beggars are everywhere in the Central Plains, so they witness events firsthand and leak refined intel to the martial world.
Like news.
Conversely, Hao Gate is tabloid-heavy.
No fact-checking. They speculate from confirmed info.
They spread anything that will thrill the martial world.
Like DiXpatch.
Thus, few sects like Hao Gate much.
But sensitive news originates there too.
Cheongwol too lives under this martial world's sway.
She must act fitting her nickname and guard against harmful rumors.
She is Emei Sect's Thousand-Year Flower.
No wonder she endures pressure from Emei Sect.
A young idol bearing the sect's future, one the world expects much from.
...And such a girl is in my basement in just undergarments.
An act that could shake the foundation of Emei Sect's values.
If these uncles see, we're screwed.
That's why I said Cheongwol might really kill them.
Killing a few beggars for the sect's future is nothing.
Not because Cheongwol's crazy, but even Emei Sect Leader Muwol Satae would kill us if she saw.
"...or not. Tsk. Too bad. I thought that Poison Phoenix was crumbling. I still can't forget the shock from first seeing her at the Dragon-Phoenix Assembly."
"Wudang's Spirit Spring Young Hero is the same."
"Yushin Sword? Yeah... heard his condition isn't great lately. Not sure exactly, but he seems drained of energy.."
"Doesn't it seem like the old fogeys are burdening the young later-generation talents too much? You see them collapsing everywhere."
"Righteous or whatever, they wanna keep up appearances. So they're raising standards for the next gen too. Greedy bastards, all of them."
"Still, Emei's fine, thankfully. Thousand-Year Flower's holding strong."
"Right, Gu Yeong. Thanks to that, my standing in the branch improved recently. With Junior Cheongwol doing so well, interest in Emei in the branch..."
Even this drinking session was filled with talk of martial artists.
I was just breaking out in cold sweats.
Cheongwol in the basement had gone quiet, but that made it worse—not knowing what that monster was thinking.
Testing the limits of her patience?
Pondering wiping us out?
I felt like I was sitting on a bomb that could go off any second.
All I could do was chug the booze fast.
As I downed my cup, Gu Yeong Uncle grinned.
"You're really pounding 'em today, Seojin."
"Been a while, so it hits hard."
"Drink up then. That's why we begged it."
No matter how much I drank, no buzz came.
My survival instincts were razor-sharp.
Gwak Du Uncle also drained his cup, slapped his knee, and said to me.
"Kuh... ah, right. Seojin. You still going in and out of the back mountain?"
"...To forage... why?"
"Hmm. Don't for a while."
You could've told me sooner. If I hadn't gone that day, I wouldn't have met Cheongwol.
I asked why.
"So why?"
"...A heap of bandits' corpses was found."
My hand froze solid.
...Ah.
That.
"Don't know who did it... but it was brutal. Slaughtered them all gruesomely."
"...You saw with your own eyes, Uncle?"
"Yeah, we did. Most were beast food by then, but we could tell how the fight went down."
Machildeuk Uncle also clicked his tongue.
"I was shocked when we first found it."
Gu Yeong Uncle added.
"Seojin. Big Brother Gwak Du ain't saying it for nothing. Listen up. Back mountain's dangerous now. Don't know what lunatic's prowling."
Don't worry, Uncles.
I've been marked for a while.
And if you're gonna help, just leave quick.
"Hao Gate was asking about this incident too."
"They'll spread wild rumors again."
"We gotta step up too. Can't fall behind."
Hao Gate asked too, huh.
Not unexpected.
It was built up in the novel as Cheongwol's slaughter scene.
Machildeuk Uncle, downing another cup, grumbled.
"Anyway... who the hell did that. Daring such a bold act under Emei Mountain... no ordinary guy."
Gu Yeong Uncle nodded.
"Gruesome."
"Demonic Cult? Or a passing master? No word of anyone passing nearby. Hidden expert? Big Brother Gwak Du, what do you think?"
Gwak Du Uncle popped a dumpling in his mouth and said.
"You guys' problem is lack of imagination."
"Imagination...?"
"Yeah. If you wanna boast ability, make bolder guesses."
"...What guess...?"
Gwak Du Uncle closed and opened his eyes, then shook his head with a laugh as if it was ridiculous.
"Nah. I overthought it."
"Ah, what. Just spit it out straight."
Urged by Gu Yeong Uncle, Gwak Du Uncle, who had made a subtle face with a hiss, spoke in a somewhat playful yet piercing tone.
"...Someone in Emei Sect suffering from a heart demon?"