Guests from Afar

For Park Chil, a fourth-generation disciple of the Beggar Sect, mornings began early.

Before the midsummer sun had even risen, he headed for the Beijing branch to gather intelligence and sift out anything useful. That was how he started each day.

And once a week, he made his way to a shabby building on the outskirts of Beijing.

A nameplate that boldly bore the man's own name. Behind it, promotional slogans had been scrawled in no particular order. Several phrases he hadn't seen last time had been added, and more than a few made no sense whatsoever.

Strangers might take one look and walk right past, thinking the place odd—but thanks to word of mouth among the Beggar Sect, it had grown quite famous among those in the know. And of all people, it was run by none other than the man widely tipped as the next Dragon Head of the Beggar Sect.

"Oh, you're here? Uncle Park Chil, if you've got any job leads in other regions, connect me, yeah?"

At some point the young heir-apparent had started calling him "Uncle" with easy familiarity. And the first thing ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠out of his mouth was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠a request for decent work in other regions.

Park Chil didn't think of himself as old enough to be called Uncle, but to a youth in his teens, the view was apparently different.

"Mm… you've arrived? Shall I pour you some tea?"

The moment Park Chil stepped into the office, a subordinate named Ilhong—as always—casually offered him a cup of the bitter tea reserved for unwelcome guests. This was the staffer who had long served the young heir-apparent, addressing him as Boss.

"I'll drink it well."

Park Chil felt the bitter taste fill his mouth and eyed Ilhong sidelong. The pretty young man stuck to Dan Mujin like a shadow wherever he went.

At first Park Chil had taken him for some capable talent the next Dragon Head had scraped up out of a back alley somewhere. But not long ago, one object he had happened to glimpse inside Ilhong's robes had changed everything.

A crude wooden seal, dropped by accident and hastily scooped back up and stuffed away. At a glance it looked like an ordinary stamp—but Park Chil, who had recently been transferred here and gained access to the Beggar Sect's core intelligence, recognized it at once.

That… isn't that the missing sacred relic of the Haomu Gate?

In particular, it matched the description of the relic said to have been carried by the Haomu Gate's young lord, who had vanished after the disaster at the Beijing branch a few years back. The Haomu Gate had torn through Beijing and the entire Central Plains searching for it, so as a rival intelligence organization, the Beggar Sect could hardly have failed to notice.

It was probably the absence of that relic that had left the new Haomu Gate leader, Heuk Jin-jo, still so shaky in position and influence.

But the young lord who took that relic was definitely a woman…

The memory struck him. Park Chil flinched and looked at Ilhong again. Every time he saw the youth, he had thought the face and bearing a little too delicate for a man. And now that he considered it, the age lined up perfectly. Could it be a woman in disguise?

Thinking that way, everything began to make sense—why Ilhong always clung to Dan Mujin's side, why those eyes always followed him, and why the youth kept trying to edge out Park Chil, whose role overlapped with his own.

Hoo… so the kid's got deep feelings for our next Dragon Head!

Even the bitter tea leaves just now were probably a form of jealousy. That was why Ilhong had been shooting him those sour looks—as if Park Chil were stealing the place that rightfully belonged to him. It was enough to suggest their relationship was more than simple master and servant.

Wait—the young Dragon Head seems to dote on this Ilhong quite a bit too…

Rumor had it Dan Mujin had taken knife wounds several times to save her, and even thrown his body in front of a thunderbolt bomb. That level of devotion meant their bond was hardly ordinary.

Then… is the young lord of the Haomu Gate going to become the future lady of the house?

A chill of awe ran down Park Chil's spine at the young Dragon Head's foresight. If that came to pass, the young man would hold the Beggar Sect in his left hand and the Haomu Gate in his right—an unprecedented figure commanding both of the great information networks of the orthodox and unorthodox paths.

"Haaah!"

The lightning bolt of realization in his head made Park Chil leap to his feet so hard he flung aside the teacup he'd been drinking. The people in the office stared at him like he had lost his mind, but he had no room to care.

Did the young Dragon Head see through all of this and take Ilhong in on purpose?

If so, how deep and meticulous was that scheming mind? He slapped his knee in admiration.

"Buurp."

Dan Mujin belched as if the morning snack he had been chewing had finally settled, and scratched his nose like a beggar. But behind that vacant-looking exterior, there was surely an ironclad plan and a private scheme hidden away.

"I will serve you with all my loyalty, Young Hero Dan Mujin!"

"…You scared me. What's with you all of a sudden?"

Even the foul temper Dan Mujin showed every day—even those hot-blooded charges where he barreled in without thinking about the consequences, whether the other party was Thunderbolt Sword Moyong Cheon or anyone else—looking back, hadn't every one of them been a calculated move? Everything so far had somehow worked out. That was rare even when people were careful and poured their hearts into it.

"No matter how I think about it, the only one fit to lead us beggars is you, Young Hero. This Park Chil will continue to serve you with all my heart."

"What the hell is this about now… Look, if you're going to be loyal, just hook me up with jobs from other sects, will you? At this rate my lifespan's going to tank."

"Yes! I'll prepare them on a super-priority basis!"

With that shout, Park Chil shot out of the office like the wind. The staffers left behind wore stunned faces at a pledge of loyalty and drive of an entirely different caliber from before.

"Boss, what's gotten into him all of a sudden?"

They had always known he wanted to get on the good side of a future power broker, but this was a whole other level. It was like he had become a sworn retainer.

"How should I know? At least he's on the ball. Good for me."

Dan Mujin, who rarely gave anything much thought even on ordinary days, simply pulled a handful of roasted peanuts from his robes and crunched away.

"Oh, damn. These are good."

In the western reaches of Sichuan Province, lofty peaks wreathed in cloud like mist.

There stood a mountain range named Mount Emei for its resemblance to a silkworm moth's brow. Deep within, beyond a gorge packed with thousand-year-old trees, lay a sacred ground no man was ever permitted to set foot upon.

It was the main mountain of the Emei Sect, counted among the Nine Great Sects and One Gang of the Central Plains.

"Master Hyein Satae, what is all this about? Summoning every disciple of Emei…"

At the urgent summons of their sect leader, Hyein Satae, the disciples of the Emei Sect had gathered from every corner in fluttering white robes, worry etched on their faces. Before those disciples, Hyein Satae opened her mouth with an expression that boded no good.

"One of Emei's disciples has disappeared."

At those few short words, the courtyard fell as still as if water had been poured over it—then a low murmur rose.

"Who is it? Is this another scheme by those villains trying to defile Emei?"

"Surely it can't be revenge for the last Evil-Slaying Campaign…"

Anger and agitation spread among the women. There were always those who harbored malice and dark designs toward the Emei Sect, known as the heroines of the Central Plains. They had punished such men countless times with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠merciless blades—and yet it seemed to have happened again. The disciples began to raise their qi in fury—

"It appears she ran off after falling for a man."

"…"

The fighting spirit and killing intent that had filled the courtyard melted away at once. It was a deeply shameful thing, but it did happen from time to time.

At an age when blood ran hot, locked away in a mountain corner under strict discipline, polishing only the Dao day after day—some disciples inevitably found strange feelings stirring in their hearts. And as one of the Nine Great Sects, the Emei Sect never missed orthodox events like the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering, and often traveled the Central Plains to hunt down notorious demonic leaders and villains. Ironically, it was during those outside activities that men and women sometimes found their eyes meeting.

"Master Hyein Satae, who is it? Who betrayed her sisters?"

One woman asked, and everyone held their breath waiting for the answer. The sect leader of the Emei Sect replied with eyes cold and still.

"Hye-yul Sinni."

"…!"

Shock rippled through the disciples at that name.

"Truly… Hye-yul Sinni?"

A mid-ranking disciple repeated it as if she could not believe her ears. Hye-yul Sinni was the most promising prodigy of the Emei Sect—a girl who had already reached the Peak Realm at a tender age, a pillar who was expected to lead the next generation of Emei.

"That is not all."

Hyein Satae's face hardened further as she continued.

"The child vanished while carrying Emei's sacred treasure—the Heaven-Interceptive Sword."

Had she come to regard as her own the sword that had been lent to her to strike down the wicked?

"Why would Hye-yul Sinni…"

"Ah, Primordial Heavenly Venerable…"

Laments and grief burst out among the disciples. Some clenched their fists, trembling with a sense of betrayal.

"We must go after her."

One disciple raised her voice.

"We can settle the matter of her crime later—we have to recover the sacred treasure at least!"

Another hurriedly agreed. Hyein Satae listened to her disciples in silence.

"Where has Hye-yul Sinni gone?"

One of the nine great elders of the Emei Sect, reading something unusual in the sect leader's expression, asked just in case.

"…Mount Song. More precisely, a place called Shaolin."

At those words, the disciples' faces went past bewilderment into blank stupor. Shaolin Temple was, like the Emei Sect, one of the Nine Great Sects—and a sacred ground that strictly forbade the entry of women. Of all places, Hye-yul Sinni had hidden herself where Emei's disciples would find it hardest to approach.

"Could she have learned a disguise technique and dressed as a man?"

"She might have blended in among the many lay disciples."

"Then we can just do the same, can't we?"

One disciple's eyes lit up as she offered the easy solution. The sect leader raised a hand and silenced the chattering crowd.

"You would have us imitate a child who has already crossed the line? If we attempted such a thing and were discovered, what kind of rumors do you think would sweep the martial world?"

It was a forbidden women's zone, of all places. If an Emei disciple were caught sneaking in, the disgrace would be absolute. The rumor would spread across the Central Plains, and the honor of Emei—defended by previous generations with their lives—would be dragged through the mud.

"Then what should we do?"

One of the more experienced great elders asked.

"We will have to call in a 'male outsider' who can enter that place."

Emei's affairs were properly settled by Emei's own disciples—but this time, it seemed they would have to borrow another's hands. That way, even if something went wrong and they were discovered, they could at least avoid the worst outcome of the sect's honor being buried in the dirt.

"But Master Hyein Satae, whom can we trust enough to call for a matter this grave?"

"Indeed. And if Hye-yul Sinni truly means to shake us off, there aren't many who can match that ferocious martial skill of hers."

"And lastly, the person must ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠keep a very tight mouth. This affair must never spread."

Given the weight of the matter, the disciples rattled off condition after condition. The more they listed, the clearer it became how impossible the demand was—martial arts beyond the Peak Realm, reliable skill, and absolute secrecy.

But Hyein Satae seemed to have something in mind. She raised her hand again and cut short their chatter.

"Lately the Beggar Sect disciples have been praising one man until their mouths go dry."

A martial artist who met every condition they had named. She still did not understand why someone of that skill and glittering record would work as a mere troubleshooter—but under the present circumstances, he was practically the only person they could turn to for help.

"The Beijing troubleshooter. Dog-Beating Dragon, Dan Mujin."

"…!"

At Hyein Satae's murmur, several women who knew the name flinched and lifted their eyes.

"…Dan Mujin. I saw him perform at the Dragon-Phoenix Gathering."

"He also smashed in the main gate of the Dang Clan in Sichuan."

"And he has a fiery temper that charges even Thunderbolt Sword Moyong Cheon without fear—will that be all right?"

Testimony poured out among the Emei disciples. In recent times, the man had become famous among orthodox martial artists in more ways than one.

"One thing is certain. That man has never once failed a commission."

Countless disputes, the Blood Cult, even jiangshi—through every major incident, he had always delivered the desired result. In a situation like this, ability mattered more than character.

Having quieted her disciples' complaints and worries, Hyein Satae called the names of two of her cherished disciples and issued her command.

"Gi-hyo, Jeong-yo. Change out of your Emei attire and go find him in Beijing."

He was said to accept any commission without discrimination. He would take this strange request from the Emei Sect as well.

"You must find him without fail before summer ends and autumn arrives."

Hyein Satae's gaze deepened. The Emei Sect's ritual that required the Heaven-Interceptive Sword was soon to begin—and guests would be arriving from outside for it.

"Yes. No matter what, we will find him."

"Leave it to us!"

The two women of the Emei Sect shouted their resolute vow and set out toward Beijing.