Chivalry in Name Only
Originally, a chivalrous hero was someone who set aside their own safety to practice righteousness. Yet the murim of today operated differently. In a world where people sold their neighbors to the authorities for a handful of coins or taught martial arts for money to those they found suspicious, even groups like the Namhwa Association were hailed as great heroes in their own districts. It was no wonder everyone had grown confused about what the word "chivalry" truly meant. These days, "chivalrous hero" simply referred to anyone widely known throughout the murim. Whenever a rising expert won a string of duels or crushed some minor unorthodox faction, the starving-for-stories masses would spread that hero's name to the four corners of the world. Aside from renowned figures like the Plum Blossom Sword Saint of Mount Hua, most of these so-called heroes came from smaller sects or the wilderness.
There were several reasons for this. Disciples of the great sects found it difficult to recklessly destroy minor factions, since those groups often had distant ties to other major powers, leaving them unsure whether to retreat or fight. Moreover, they had no need to endure the hardships of a chivalrous life when they could raise their names through titles like "future hope," "dragons and phoenixes," or participation in the Murim Tournament. Thus, the lives of these heroes followed a similar pattern. Once they won a notable fight and gained fame, they would receive guest positions and patronage from the surrounding great sects eager to boast of their generosity. They would carefully select whom they met, collecting support funds, until their name began to fade. Unable to forget the sweetness of borrowed glory, they would throw themselves back into battle. Repeating this cycle, they would eventually break or, realizing their limits, quietly accept an elder position in some mid-tier sect or escort agency and retire. That was the fate awaiting most chivalrous heroes.
Which path will this one take? For some reason, she could not imagine it.
Dang Ju-yeon, granddaughter of the Poison King and a figure of considerable influence in Sichuan, gazed at the pale-faced youth and thought.
"You seem like someone who thinks very deeply, Miss."
"Do I?"
"Yes. I find it fascinating."
She had been about to reply with the usual "Thank you," but her mouth stopped. Not "remarkable" or "impressive," but "fascinating." It was the first time she had heard such a response.
Is it interesting to think a lot?
"...You mean my habit of thinking deeply?"
She lifted her gaze slightly and met his eyes. The youth wore a faint, naturally likable smile—the same expression he had worn since the moment they first faced each other at the inn.
Following the name he had borrowed for his story, he was called the Boy Sword Saint. Those who found the title childish or noticed that he had borrowed a name from old tales referred to him as the Hidden Name Young Lord.
The reason she had come here today was to determine whether the youth could be of use to her family, and if so, how best to make use of him.
"Yes. The way you always search for meaning in what you see and hear, and examine the context before making any decision—it is different from how I am, so I find it fascinating. I am not like that."
"Then how does Young Hero Yu make his decisions?"
"Hmm... Whatever feels right in the moment?"
The youth tilted his head slightly as he answered. The smile on his lips did not waver even a fraction.
"In that case, has the Dang Clan's proposal perhaps caught your interest now?"
"What proposal are you referring to? My memory is rather poor, so I keep forgetting."
"It was the one about not going to the duel venue with the Black Fog Poison Lord. Well..."
There had been more. Ways to preserve Yu Baek's honor even if he withdrew, the mutual benefits if he participated, and a subtle warning about acting freely within the Dang Clan's territory in Sichuan. She opened her heart just a little and revealed her true thoughts. The thin sheet of paper that had contained all of it crumbled into ash at her fingertips.
Handling poison arts was difficult work. It was a well-known fact from experience that one's mindset was crucial when accumulating inner energy, so those who practiced poison arts had to harbor poison in their hearts as well. Poison was dangerous and filthy, so a poison heart should be the same. Yet if it blazed openly on the surface, it became fire rather than poison. The essence of poison was to deny and reject, to suppress rather than release, to gnaw at the inside instead of burning the outside. This was why the Sichuan Tang Clan, the greatest poison sect under heaven, belonged to the orthodox faction.
"...I can see the answer just by looking at your eyes."
As she let out a sigh, she realized the corner of her mouth had unconsciously lifted. The more poison was hidden, the more valuable it became. She knew this well, yet it was also the fate of those who practiced poison arts to feel profound pleasure whenever they opened that deep place and revealed it.
"That may be true, but I am curious. If I had accepted, what would have happened? Would you tell me?"
"Young Hero Yu would have been paralyzed by the hidden poison from your sworn brother, who was concerned for your safety, and thus unable to attend the duel venue. In the meantime, Grandfather, who went to settle old grudges, would have driven away the villain, the Black Fog Poison Lord."
"A fine tale of righteousness."
"Indeed."
Those who did not know that Dang Ho-gi and Yu Baek were not particularly close would think so.
The Boy Sword Saint Yu Baek's actions were unconventional even among recently famous chivalrous heroes. He had made his name by attacking a branch of the Demonic Cult alone, then immediately descended upon Sichuan and destroyed one of the Seventy-Two Green Forest Strongholds. As the finishing touch, he had boldly challenged the Dang Clan's eldest grandson in Chongqing to a duel and won. The world believed he had emerged victorious from a desperate struggle, but that too had likely been intentional. The Dang Clan, needing to preserve its prestige in Sichuan, had concluded the story with the heartwarming tale of two young experts becoming sworn brothers after their match.
He was willing to earn the Demonic Cult's enmity and make an enemy of the Green Forest if necessary, using the Dang Clan as a stepping stone. There was no fear or hesitation. Yu Baek—or rather, the Hidden Name Young Lord who called himself Yu Baek—was not only strong and clever, but possessed the instincts of a gambler. That made her even more curious.
"Young Hero. The Black Fog Poison Lord is one of the Top 100 Masters."
It was clear the youth was strong. Likely at the peak of the Peak realm, perhaps even touching the Transcendent realm. Considering his fight with Dang Ho-gi, he could easily overwhelm any Peak expert. But a Top 100 Master? The Black Fog Poison Lord appeared without fail on the Murim Top 100 of the Taizhong Inn, the Murim Top 100 Figures of the Office of Martial Affairs, the Murim Top 108 of the Jipmudang, and even the Murim Top 100 of the orthodox alliance's tournament. It meant his martial prowess was at a level that could not be omitted when selecting the Top 100. He was a fully matured expert even among Transcendents, and a master of poison arts who was difficult to face even for stronger opponents if they lacked experience. Even the Poison King had declared that, at best, his chances of victory against the Black Fog Poison Lord were less than fifty percent.
"I am aware."
"Grandfather wishes to eliminate the Black Fog Poison Lord."
"I heard that yesterday as well."
"The Black Sand Gate too, if possible."
This time, no immediate reply came. He furrowed his brow as if pondering the true meaning behind her words. After a brief silence, Yu Baek let out a small exclamation.
"Aha! If I lose, I die."
"Yes."
If he lost and survived, the Dang Clan's honor would be tarnished. It would mean the rising expert they sponsored had the audacity to challenge their long-time enemy, the Black Fog Poison Lord, only to be defeated—and by extension, that the heir's sworn brother had lost to the Dang Clan's enemy. But if he lost and died, a plausible justification would emerge. They could wage war to erase the Black Sand Gate in order to punish the enemy who had slain their heir's sworn brother and their guest under the pretext of a duel. There were only two masters of poison arts in the world capable of distinguishing whether a corpse killed by poison had died from the Poison King's toxin or the Black Fog Poison Lord's, and one of them would be dead and buried. Thus, the Poison King's word would become truth.
"But that is beside the point."
"Is it?"
"Because I will win."
"You are very confident. I wish you luck."
The Dang Clan did not care whether he won or lost. It would be good if the Poison King personally slew the Black Fog Poison Lord, but it would also be entertaining to see the Black Fog Poison Lord defeated by a rising expert who had been in the jianghu for barely a month. Win or lose, it did not matter. If siblings died during the war, her own path would become easier, but having ties to a young Top 100 Master would be equally convenient. Still, she could not say she felt no desire for him to win. Yu Baek was quite an interesting person.
"The tea was delicious. A little bitter, though."
"That is the nature of the paralysis powder. One grows accustomed to it with time."
* * *
"We really must send the manuscript soon."
Jo Jae-ui muttered. Gong Ho, Chief Manager of the Gold Tripod Merchant Alliance, replied halfheartedly.
"Ah, yes... You mean the plan regarding the secret manuals."
"It is not just that anymore. You heard it too, Chief Manager. Yu Baek! There is clearly a connection between the Boy Sword Saint Yu Baek, who is currently in Sichuan, and Author Yu."
Though his eyes were directed at Gong Ho, the words were not meant for him to hear. Already accustomed to this, Gong Ho gave his usual reply.
"It does seem that way."
"This is an enormous opportunity. A real, living hidden sect. We will need to approach it delicately if we want to capitalize on its value, but if handled well, we could put the business on track far faster than expected..."
Gong Ho looked at Jo Jae-ui's eyes. The golden empire reflected so clearly in them seemed to flicker before his own eyes as well. It was a fitting sight for someone bearing the title of Yeopgeum. Gong Ho felt a tightness in his chest. He drew a deep breath, but it did not help much.
As a merchant, Jo Jae-ui's obsession with martial arts was clearly a flaw. Gong Ho thought so, and so did his master. A merchant should set aside personal likes and dislikes and pursue only profit above all else. Yet such principles crumbled before a genius. Watching Jo Jae-ui conduct his affairs was like watching a child playing in the sand. He would cling to what he liked and build a sandcastle, only to find, upon completion, that it had become a palace of gold. The other Yeopgeum were the same. Each one was flawed, childish, and immature. But what had they accomplished? Under the hands of the Alliance Head and the seven Yeopgeum, the Gold Tripod Merchant Alliance, which had once barely competed for the title of the Central Plains' greatest trading company, had become the greatest trading company of all time, the West Lake's White, and one of the Thirty-Six Factions of the Central Plains.
Why had the Alliance Head created the and raised the Yeopgeum? The Gold Tripod Merchant Alliance he had built alone was already the greatest in the Central Plains. Instead of passing it on to blood relatives and servants as others did, he had gathered orphans of unknown origin and placed it in their hands. Gong Ho believed it was because the Alliance Head himself felt closer to his seven Yeopgeum—his own kind—than to his blood kin and servants.
Jo Jae-ui's long neck came into view. Gong Ho felt the impulse to rush forward and twist it. But even if he did, could the young master inherit the Alliance Head's position? There were still six other Yeopgeum. When he closed and opened his eyes, Jo Jae-ui was looking back at him. Gong Ho barely suppressed the urge to bolt from his seat.
"Chief Manager Gong. Were you thinking about something?"
"Pardon? Ah, it was nothing. My apologies."
"No need to apologize. It is a good thing to fall deeply into thought. Ah, that is something the Alliance Head once said. Haha."
"Is that so? I shall keep it in mind."
"You had better, if you do not want to be dismissed. It seems you have been on somewhat awkward terms with the Alliance Head lately. You have nowhere else to go once you leave, after all."
"..."
"I am getting sleepy. I will rest for a bit. Wake me when we arrive at Yiling."