The Sleeping Dragon Society's New Star
Dag-dak. Dag-dak.
A carriage rattled its way toward Chengdu.
Inside it, a silence so complete that even breathing could be heard hung in the air.
“Yawwwn~”
Dragged out of the house in the middle of a drowsy afternoon—precisely the time he should have been napping after his training—Samryong yawned again and again.
Just as he was hovering on the border between dream and reality, eyes half-lidded and mind foggy, a sharp voice cut through.
“Why did you come?”
She had clearly thought hard before asking, but Samryong gave no particular answer.
The moment Tang Saryeong realized why, her face twisted into something ferocious.
“…….”
He was one breath away from surrendering to his heavy eyelids when her voice rang out again.
“Hey!”
“Agh! You scared me! What!”
“I asked why you came!”
“Because you told me to.”
Watching Tang Saryeong get annoyed at him for coming when she was the one who'd summoned him, Samryong regretted boarding the carriage for the second time that day.
His head lolled in a lazy pendulum with every jolt of the wheels, consciousness drifting somewhere hazy. How long had it been like that? Then a sudden pain shot through his side as it was pinched and twisted.
Apparently pinching people had become her newest hobby.
“Aaagh! That hurts!”
“Wake up! Has the sleep ghost possessed you or what, huh?”
“We're already here?”
“Wipe your drool. And there's some gunk in your eye.”
“Hnngh… nagging… yawwwn~”
The moment they arrived in Chengdu, the smell of humanity washed over him in waves. Lively streets, faces brimming with life.
If all you saw was this, you'd think the place couldn't be more peaceful.
Following Tang Saryeong's lead, Samryong arrived at one of the most famous spots in all of Chengdu.
“The Red Flower Pavilion? Kid's got deep pockets.”
“Can you feel the wealth and business acumen of Mae Gukhyeong's father?”
“You call money a man's never earned with his own two hands, riding entirely on his parents' connections, 'wealth and acumen'?”
“Your parents' ability is a form of wealth and acumen in itself. Don't you know that?”
“Not something worth bragging about. Get a grip.”
Samryong's blunt words hit Tang Saryeong square in the chest.
“Why are you so bitter!”
“I'm bitter tonight~ just leave me be! Either way, I'm~ all alone! Nobody's there! It all means nothing!”
At the utterly bizarre tune no one had ever heard before, Tang Saryeong's expression shifted by the second.
“What kind of strange song is that? Anyway, all you have to do is go in, keep quiet, and leave! Lord Mae Gukhyeong is fair and upright, the sort who never judges people by appearances—”
Does she have a crush on him? Judging by her expression, not particularly.
“Just behave when we're up there, okay?”
“I'll handle it.”
Only after warning Samryong several more times did Tang Saryeong step into the Red Flower Pavilion.
“Are these the two guests?”
“Here.”
“Please follow me.”
After checking the jade tablet Tang Saryeong presented, the attendant led them up to the third floor.
How much is all this costing?
Reserving the entire third floor with its sweeping view. The kid had no idea what money was worth.
What's that over there?
Just then, something like a fighting arena set up in one corner of the third floor caught Samryong's eye.
“Lady Tang!”
Among the guests who had arrived first, a young man rose from the seat of honor to greet Tang Saryeong. He was somewhat short, but his affable looks were more than enough to make a good first impression.
Through Samryong's eyes, however, the man looked like the word treacherous schemer given human form—the very incarnation of it.
“Lord Mae.”
“Ah! And this must be the Poison Hero, Young Master Tang Sanlong himself. A pleasure. I'm Mae Gukhyeong.”
He delivered a polite fist salute while swiftly scanning Samryong from head to toe. Then, immediately, a look of disappointment crossed his face.
So this is the famed Poison Hero? Utterly ordinary. And that attire—he dresses like a failed scholar…. They called him a madman, but it seems the truth is his deeds were simply exaggerated! Tch. This is why you never take Jianghu rumors at face value.
Having finished his assessment in mere moments, Mae Gukhyeong brushed past Samryong with a smile. His manner said it all: Consider yourself lucky I'm extending you even this much courtesy for Lady Tang's sake!
“Ah, there he is! My dragon of a little brother!”
“Lord Mae, my eldest brother! This place is my—”
Samryong looked at Mae Gukhyeong, then at Tang Saryeong.
“What was that again? 'Fair and upright,' 'never judges by appearances'—what was it?”
“…He isn't usually like this….”
“Not my problem. Time to enjoy some Red Flower Pavilion cuisine~”
Samryong forgot Mae Gukhyeong on the spot, and with an eager spring in his step at the thought of tasting the pavilion's famous dishes, took his seat.
Barely had he sat down when a woman approached—one so beautiful that words of praise came unbidden, with a tall, graceful, and strikingly poised figure.
“Oh?”
One glance at her attire told Samryong exactly where she hailed from.
“You must be a disciple of Mount Emei.”
“Greetings. I am Eo Hwon-ah, second disciple of the Emei Sect. I wished to thank you once more for what you did for Lady Wi Sogun.”
“I hardly did anything.”
“You aided her breakthrough in her cultivation—how can you claim to have done nothing? Might I have the honor of pouring your first cup?”
“Oh my! The kindness of Lady Eo herself? The honor is entirely mine.”
“I must also request a sparring match with you someday.”
“A duel with a lady like you, Lady Eo? Anytime.”
Having poured his cup, Eo Hwon-ah withdrew. The moment she was gone, a young man stepped forward as if he'd been waiting his turn.
His attire, too, made his sect obvious at a glance.
“I am Cheong Gyeong, second disciple of the Qingcheng Sect. It is an honor to finally meet the Poison Hero, whose name resounds far and wide.”
“Ah! A pleasure.”
“I heard the story from my senior brother. How you, while surrounded, single-handedly lured away every enemy and enabled my senior brother and the Tang Clan's men to escape unharmed. Truly the courage worthy of the Tang Clan's direct line.”
In truth, Dan Haseong had simply been focused on catching Samryong and paid the rest no mind, but Cheong Song had apparently misunderstood.
“Might I pour you a cup on my senior brother's behalf?”
“There's really no need.”
“Please accept a cup.”
“Do accept it, Poison Hero.”
When Eo Hwon-ah chimed in from the side, Samryong drained the cup with a resigned air and immediately held it out again.
“Then, swallowing my shame, I'll accept another.”
“What shame! Haha! How humble of you—truly befitting the Poison Hero.”
“Hahaha!”
“Hahaha!”
The moment warm, friendly laughter erupted even before the Sleeping Dragon Society had properly begun, Mae Gukhyeong's brow twitched.
Ha. Those arrogant prats?
Disciples of Qingcheng and Emei who had never once offered him so much as a courtesy cup were lining up to toast Samryong first, and watching it sent some strange, inexplicable emotion bubbling up from his gut.
Jealousy? Me? Of him?
It was the moment a crack ran through the pride of Mae Gukhyeong, who had always stood at the very top of every room he entered.
“Poison Hero! I—”
As soon as Emei and Qingcheng finished their toasts, the sons and daughters of the martial world scrambled over one another to greet Samryong.
“Poison Hero! Tell us the story of how you captured the Ghost Blade Three Killers!”
“Haha. I simply got lucky, that's all. Embarrassing, really.”
“Still, please tell us! When we heard of the bloodbath the Ghost Blade Three Killers wrought, we were truly furious.”
“Exactly! We're dying to hear how you brought down such villains!”
Pressed by their enthusiasm, Samryong spoke as though he had no choice in the matter.
“My memory is hazy, but let me try to recall.”
“Oooooh!”
Watching Samryong receive more attention than he ever had as Society Leader of the Sleeping Dragon Society, Mae Gukhyeong's face transformed in real time.
Father did say to avoid friction with the Tang Clan whenever possible….
And yet, for some reason, he wanted nothing more than to crush that insolent nose flat.
He was the son of Chengdu's Regional Military Commander. One could count on one hand the people in all of Chengdu who outranked his father.
I'll show them who rules this place.
How hard had he worked to claim this seat of honor?
Mae Gukhyeong turned his scheming mind and let a dark smile spread across his lips.
Enjoy yourselves while you can.
Now was the time to greet his guests behind a smiling mask—not the time to reveal who truly owned this place.
As Mae Gukhyeong's envy swelled to overflowing, Tang Saryeong—seeing Tang Sanlong welcomed so warmly—found her shoulders straightening with unearned pride. It was then that his voice struck her ear.
“The Ghost Blade Three Killers were truly vile men. Their sabers were as ferocious and merciless as starved wolves.”
“Oooh!”
“The Six Devils Killing Saber they mastered was a demonic art that grew stronger with every life it took! The ghost-like blades of the Three Killers I faced that day were starved for blood!”
“How chilling, the martial arts of the Unorthodox path.”
“To think men who learned such demonic arts roamed Chengdu freely! And we never even recognized the evil in our midst! How shameful!”
Everyone was thoroughly absorbed in Samryong's tale.
“The saber of Il Sal, eldest of the Three Killers, came flying at me! My keen eyes caught the trajectory of his swing—but it was already too late! I could not evade it perfectly! And so—SHLACK—my shoulder! Kgh!”
When Samryong clutched his shoulder and suddenly writhed in theatrical agony, every onlooker jumped in alarm.
“Gasp! Are you all right, Poison Hero?!”
“Whew… I am fine now.”
Watching Samryong's third-rate theater, Tang Saryeong struggled to keep her expression in check.
“Though it only grazed my shoulder, it felt as though my very blood and soul were being sucked into that devil's blade! A pain as terrible as walking through the fires of hell itself!”
“Good heavens!”
“You nearly lost your life!”
Then Samryong raised his voice, his face brimming with more resolve than anyone present had ever seen.
“But! I could not run!”
“Oooooh! Truly the Poison Hero!”
“Such courage! Magnificent!”
All were moved by his fighting spirit.
“So I stood face to face with my own fear! And against Il Sal, I unleashed the Tang Clan's secret technique! The Thirty-Six Blossom Explosive Blood Needles! SHLACK!”
“Ohhh!”
Just as the whole room burst into admiration, Tang Saryeong dumped cold water over everything.
“Our family doesn't HAVE any technique like that!”
“It does. You just never learned it because you're a novice.”
“You're making that up!”
“Hahaha!”
“Enough! Sit down!”
“But I'm not finished—”
Only after Tang Saryeong hauled him back down by the collar did Samryong's heroic saga finally come to an end. Left to his own devices, he would have talked until dawn.
“The Poison Hero knows how to tell a story, doesn't he!”
“That was delightful!”
“If my tale added even a little to the evening's cheer, I am glad. Though I feel guilty, for I fear I embellished that day's events somewhat.”
“Poison Hero… surely that cannot be true.”
A solemn hush fell over the room.
Samryong slowly raised his cup.
“This cup, I offer to those who perished that day—and I will remember them until the day I die. At the very least, I swear that such a tragedy will never happen again in Sichuan.”
“I pledge myself to that vow as well.”
“As do I!”
Fortunately, the mood settled into something fitting.
“Oh! There—Lady Tang Soso!”
“Waaaah….”
Just then, exclamations of admiration erupted from every corner of the room.
Clearly the reactions were not for the Lady Tang sitting beside Samryong but for a different Lady Tang entirely, so his head turned to follow their gaze.
She was, without question, a striking beauty who drew every eye.
But to Samryong, who had beheld Wi Sogun and lived alongside Tang Saryeong, her looks hardly warranted astonishment.
She's different, though.
Her air was completely unlike Tang Saryeong's. Where Saryeong carried a certain lively vibrance, Tang Soso had the delicate, fragile grace of a tragedy's heroine.
The type that drives men out of their minds, in other words.
She was the sort who, at a formal meeting with the in-laws, would have parents slapping an approval pendant around her neck before she'd finished her first bow.
“Tch.”
Now he understood, just a little, why Tang Saryeong had been so wary of her.
“Jealous, are we?”
“What? I outrank her, remember?”
“Then stop caring and eat. The Dongpo pork's good.”
“I'll eat when I want to eat!”
“Yes, yes~”
Quietly surveying his surroundings, Samryong sensed something sinister in the air.
Ha? That little bastard, look at him.
The source of the foul aura was Mae Gukhyeong. It wasn't that he'd learned some demonic art—his gaze as he stared at Tang Soso was simply impure to its very core.
Had he actually practiced a demonic art, Samryong would have blown his head off on principle. Unfortunately, the man appeared to have learned orthodox techniques taught in proper academies.
“Lady Tang Soso, thank you for honoring the Sleeping Dragon Society with your presence.”
“Not at all. The invitation alone is an honor.”
“And the gentleman beside you?”
The moment the man who had been leering darkly at Tang Soso laid eyes on the tall, handsome youth at her side, he couldn't hide a flash of displeasure.
So this is the wuxia world's Cha Eun-woo, huh.
The face glimpsed beneath the brim of his hat was enough to draw admiring sighs even from other men.
Pretty enough to make Oryong take a step back, isn't he?
As a strange current passed between them, the young man's voice rang out.
“Greetings. I am Han Lip, a nameless minor swordsman.”
And his voice was infuriatingly pleasant too.