A Small Festival at Honghwaru
A small festival had suddenly broken out at Honghwaru.
At first, the commotion left the guests wondering what was going on, but the abrupt appearance of a celebrity became the talk of the establishment in an instant, and soon people from the surrounding area caught wind of it and came flocking in, leaving Honghwaru on the verge of bursting at the seams.
"What splendid prose and penmanship."
Hwang Yakseung, one of Chengdu's most renowned figures and a former Grand Preceptor who had once educated the Crown Prince within the imperial household, praised the young scholars' writing and calligraphy with a benevolent smile.
Why on earth was such a distinguished gentleman here, at what amounted to a children's playground? Watching from the sidelines, Samryong still couldn't wrap his head around the situation.
"Why is that man even here? Mae Gukhyeong didn't invite him, did he?"
Hwang Yakseung was famously known for keeping his distance from Chengdu's celebrity circle.
He couldn't imagine how anyone had managed to summon him.
"Han Lip, he says that man wasn't the one who called him here."
Tang Saryeong wore a look of utter disbelief.
"Oh……"
Just who was Han Lip, really?
Merely by having a connection with Hwang Yakseung, he was already drawing the fierce, almost obsessive interest of the Hidden Dragon Society's scholars.
"Having a connection with him alone would be enough to pass, wouldn't it?"
Though it stung her pride, Tang Saryeong couldn't argue with Samryong's point.
Truly, appearances were not everything.
"Hmph!"
"Oh, but the Hidden Dragon Society cares sooo much about looks~ and background~ It's just one big walking contradiction. A contradiction, I say."
"…Enough."
"The way I see it, this place is finished. The moment they failed to recognize what kind of person Han Lip truly is, that was it."
Even with Mae Gukhyeong standing nearby, Samryong said it loud and clear.
Mae Gukhyeong pretended not to hear, but the way his expression curdled by the second made it obvious he'd heard every word.
"Whew……"
"Big Brother, you've worked hard."
Han Lip and Tang Soso, finally escaping from the crowd of scholars, made straight for where Samryong stood.
Why? Because the space around Samryong was the emptiest of all.
As the Third Young Master of the Tang Clan and the man known as the Poison Hero, the sheer weight of his name kept people from approaching carelessly.
"Third Young Master."
"Soso, just call me Big Brother. No need to stand on ceremony."
The moment he saw Soso, Samryong transformed into the kindest, most doting older brother imaginable.
"How could I… that's far too much honor. I only entered the Tang Clan because my parents received the bestowed surname, so……"
"I've heard all about you. Saryeong says you and her have been trading first and second place among your cohort in the Tang Flag Unit? Even without your parents' name, you'd have earned that surname someday."
Praise from the Poison Hero, Tang Samryong himself.
A faint blush crept across Tang Soso's cheeks.
"Thank you. Big… Big Brother."
"There we go! Heh heh! Heheheh!"
Watching Samryong grin from ear to ear, Tang Saryeong's face curdled fast.
"Oh, so she's fun now, is she? Hm?"
"So, nothing too hard on you these days?"
Samryong had completely forgotten Tang Saryeong existed.
But the price of that oversight was quite painful.
"I said, is she fun?!"
"Aaagh! Hey! You— why, you……"
A curse climbed all the way to the tip of his tongue before he barely managed to swallow it.
He was lucky his side wasn't bleeding.
Watching the pair of them, Tang Soso smiled shyly.
"Fufu……"
"Something funny? Hm? Well?"
"Ah! Sorry."
"Oh, so it's 'Third Young Master~ Third Young Master~' every single time with Samryong, but with me you just speak down to me as you please?"
"I… sorry. But the rule is that fellow trainees speak casually with each other until they complete the Tang Flag Unit……"
Contrary to her delicate appearance, Tang Soso had more spine than anyone expected.
Then again, girls who looked like Tang Soso did tend to be the iron-willed sort, far more often than someone with Tang Saryeong's face.
Those two really are natural-born rivals, aren't they?
Just as Tang Soso and Tang Saryeong were locked in their silent battle of wills, someone tried to sneak toward Han Lip, who had taken refuge—only to be caught by Samryong.
"Get lost."
"Hyiik! My apologies!"
Watching the man vanish into the distance at a single word, Han Lip let out a breath of relief.
"Thank you, Poison Hero."
"Don't mention it. So, Brother Han, how old are you?"
"Seventeen, Poison Hero."
Same age as him.
Samryong smiled easily.
"Let's be friends, shall we? Just call me casually."
"I couldn't possibly… I'd worry about tarnishing the reputation of the Poison Hero."
"Reputation? For a man who was a hopeless delinquent until the beginning of this year? Just relax."
At that, Han Lip hesitated a moment before answering.
"All right… Brother Tang."
"Just use my name."
"That… I'll work up to it."
Apparently, even that much still felt like too much for him.
Well, since they were friends now anyway, Samryong decided to ask what he was curious about.
"So how did you end up crossing paths with that gentleman?"
"On my way back to Chengdu after visiting my hometown, I helped him out of a difficult situation."
"Oh? Is that so?"
"He said he had nowhere to stay since he was traveling incognito, so he invited me to stay at his house. We shared meals, played baduk, and as I stayed on as his guest, we ended up talking about all sorts of things… haha!"
Was Han Lip, perhaps, currently the closest person to that gentleman in all of Chengdu?
He really was the possessor of a devilishly magnetic charm that drew in everyone, young or old, man or woman.
Well, with that face and that personality, it'd be harder for him to make enemies than friends.
Short of committing some truly heinous act, that was a face people simply couldn't hate.
"What a truly marvelous idea! And whose son might you be?"
Just then, Hwang Yakseung cried out in genuine admiration.
Samryong half expected a few of these youths to end up as his disciples before the day was done.
"It's almost your turn."
"Ah……"
The scholars' debate was finally winding down.
The real contest, it seemed, would be the sparring matches that were about to begin.
The visitors to Honghwaru could enjoy watching the scholars trade fierce arguments and pit their prose against one another, but most of it consisted of impenetrable scholarly talk, and the average spectator couldn't understand half of it.
The sparring matches, however, were another matter entirely.
What could be more entertaining to watch than a fight? That was what everyone had been waiting for.
While the seating arrangements were being sorted out, Samryong asked Han Lip about something that had been nagging at him.
"The Eastern Twin Dragons Sect—do they use the sword?"
"Yeah. We practice the Eastern Twin Dragons Sword Art."
"That's… quite a name."
Seeing Samryong barely restrain himself from calling it rustic, Han Lip laughed with the ease of long familiarity.
"Everyone gives pretty much the same reaction you just did when they hear the sword art's name……"
"Sorry. But why 'Eastern Twin Dragons'?"
"I heard it's a sword art brought over from a country to the east—once called Goryeo, now known as Joseon. The name means it imitates the movements of dragons dwelling in the east."
"Ah~"
The name of the sword art might be corny, but an art that had crossed over from Goryeo stirred a quiet warmth in his chest.
My inner affinity for it is just piling up, huh?
For starters, he rather liked the lineage of the art itself.
Though if the Eastern Twin Dragons Sword Art turned out to be a swindler's technique after all, that would be its own kind of sad.
Still, watching Han Lip up close, Samryong could be certain of one thing.
Even if that sword art were a fake, Han Lip is the real deal.
The qi he had observed at close range was nothing ordinary.
So Samryong decided to throw his support behind him.
"I hope you get a good result out there."
"You're not competing?"
"I have no intention of joining the Hidden Dragon Society."
"Ah… neither do I, actually. But I'm doing this anyway because……"
Han Lip paused for a moment.
"I simply can't stand by and watch my master's sword art—the one he taught me at the cost of his own lifespan—be treated as a joke."
He was brimming with resolve.
Even without a word, it was clear how much had been building up inside him.
He seemed determined to prove the worth of the Eastern Twin Dragons Sword Art before everyone present.
"I'm rooting for you."
"Thank you. This is actually the first time anyone besides Soso has ever cheered for me."
"That just means Soso has a good eye."
As Samryong answered Han Lip's renewed determination with more encouragement, the seating was apparently finished, and Mae Gukhyeong stepped forward.
His face had looked like he was chewing on gravel mere moments ago, but the instant he stood before the crowd, his expression management was flawless.
"We will now begin the light sparring matches in earnest. The rules are simple. Someone will call out an opponent, and that person may either accept or decline. The two will then spar, and the victor remains on the stage and must receive the next challenger."
Samryong could understand why the victor would keep receiving challengers—but the word must carried a distinctly slippery turn of phrase from Mae Gukhyeong.
Besides, the way he'd immediately begun scurrying around whispering to one person after another the moment he came down was suspicious to anyone with eyes.
He was scheming, plain as day.
"I will begin first."
A dashing young man stepped out, saluting the Hidden Dragon Society and the audience with a courteous fist-and-palm bow.
"I am Gi Parang of the Wave Blade Sect, Chengdu! Unlike an ordinary blade, this slender blade of mine is a weapon worthy of the Swift Blade, the Wave-Shaped Saber!"
"The Wave Blade Sect's internal energy is built to explode with sudden force, so they say it pairs beautifully with swift blades."
"Uh… yeah."
Tang Saryeong and Tang Soso had launched into an explanation for Samryong, each racing the other to talk first.
Nobody had even asked, and here they were lecturing him anyway.
What thoughtful kids.
"Brother Han! Accept my challenge!"
"I've been waiting!"
Sure enough, Gi Parang was the first to call out Han Lip!
But Han Lip, apparently prepared for this from the start, mounted the dueling stage with a light, elegant burst of footwork.
The Eastern Twin Dragons… maybe it isn't a scam after all?
Footwork of that caliber.
Han Lip's skill looked to be at least First-Rate.
Snick!
Drawing his well-maintained iron sword, Han Lip slowly took his opening stance.
Despite the flashy name of his art, it was a remarkably plain, orthodox stance.
"Han Lip of the Eastern Twin Dragons Sect."
"Gi Parang of the Wave Blade Sect! I request a lesson in a single technique!"
True to the Wave-Shaped Saber's fame as a swift blade, he pressed the attack fiercely from the very first exchange.
An unrelenting chain of strikes!
Had he been caught off guard? Han Lip seemed to be getting pushed back.
"There it is! Just as I thought!"
"What even is the Eastern Twin Dragons, anyway?"
Just as unsavory murmurs about Han Lip began to circulate around the room, he seemed to finally adapt to Gi Parang's speed, steadying his stance with calm composure.
His fundamentals are good. He's just lacking in real combat experience.
He bore the unmistakable stamp of someone who had trained and trained, then come down the mountain with nothing but forms behind him.
But because his raw skill was sound at its core, he was adapting before anyone realized it.
"Haah… haah……"
Gi Parang, having pushed himself to end things quickly in the opening moments, was now visibly winded.
The instant Han Lip spotted that opening, he drove in ruthlessly.
He's breaking the man's breathing rhythm, over and over?
At the precise instant his opponent tried to draw breath, Han Lip would flick his sword in, scattering the breath before it could settle. Again and again.
As a result, Gi Parang's stamina was draining away at an alarming rate.
Clang!
Then Gi Parang's blade clattered to the floor, and the bout was decided.
"An excellent match."
"You taught me a great deal."
Compared to his opponent's ragged breathing, Han Lip's was perfectly steady.
Thanks to Han Lip being more formidable than anyone had expected? The hall fell into solemn silence, while Mae Gukhyeong's movements grew busier by the minute.
"I shall challenge him this time!"
And so the challenges began.
An exhausting number of people lined up to face Han Lip.
"My turn to challenge him!"
"Next one's mine!"
Without exception, every single one of them dragged out a long, grinding match.
Look at these bastards.
Every opponent who stepped onto the stage was focused not on winning, but on wearing Han Lip down.
"Haah… haah… a good match……"
"Hmph!"
Even a martial artist as skilled as Han Lip had never faced a succession of opponents in a row, and having mismanaged his stamina from the start, he was visibly wilting.
"Big Brother Han!"
Tang Soso called out to him with mounting desperation.
Samryong felt like he was watching a romance play unfold.
A love between two paragons of beauty!
All that was missing now was a meddling villain to come along and wreck it—then the picture would be perfect.
"I shall challenge him myself!"
"Society Leader Mae?"
Han Lip was flustered by Mae Gukhyeong's sudden appearance.
"I have been so impressed by Brother Han's exceptional skill that I wished to witness it firsthand. Do me the honor of teaching me a technique as well!"
"Oh! Marvelous!"
"They say the Society Leader is no true martial artist, but he carries himself more like one than anyone here!"
The spectators, knowing he was the Provincial Commander's son, took simple pleasure in the thought of witnessing the martial prowess of the remarkably skilled Mae Gukhyeong.
But Samryong, watching that single move, understood exactly what the man intended.
"Ah, so that's the game, huh? And now is the perfect moment for it."
"What is?"
"What do you think? I'm saying that bastard waited around until Han Lip was exhausted, and only now is stepping up."
"What for?"
"Why else? To beat a spent Han Lip."
"But why? What does beating an exhausted opponent get him?"
Watching Tang Saryeong frown in genuine incomprehension, Samryong answered.
"You think all he wants is to win? That bastard intends to leave Han Lip with a crippling injury."
The sinister aura he radiated made it plain he was one heartbeat away from doing something terrible.
"Why? Why go that far? Because Tang Soso's heart happens to be set on that Han Lip?"
Tang Saryeong truly could not fathom it.
But Samryong, as the elder by a year, decided to kindly enlighten her.
"That thing right there is what we call jealousy."
"That's it? Over that?"
She wouldn't be able to truly understand it yet.
"Little sister. The world is full of disasters born of exactly the kind of 'that's it?', 'over that?', 'huh?' thinking you're doing right now. And when a man and a woman's affections get tangled into it, all normal judgment goes straight out the window."
Their vision narrows, their every action turns extreme, and in the end, a catastrophe erupts hand in hand with one fatal mistake.
"Time for me to step in, I think."
"Why are you butting into someone else's romance business?"
"Why do you think? I can't just stand by and watch a friend I finally made get hurt."
"Since when were you two friends?"
Tuning out Tang Saryeong's incredulous protest, Samryong headed for the dueling stage.
"And so, with my humble self……"
"Society Leader Mae! Leave the exhausted man be! How about a round with me instead!"
Cutting off Mae Gukhyeong's speech, Samryong made his entrance onto the stage with more theatrical flair than he'd ever mustered in his life, raising both arms in a sweeping greeting to the crowd.
"It's the Poison Hero!"
"The hero of Seoksu Village who captured the Ghost Blade Sam Sal!"
"The hopeless delinquent of old is gone—now he is truly a man of upright bearing!"
"Poison Hero! Poison Hero!"
Samryong was unaccustomed to such a fervent ovation—more passionate than anything he'd received in either of his lives—but since things had come this far, he decided to enjoy it properly.
"Society Leader Mae! Let tired Brother Han rest, and mix hands with me instead."
"Poison Hero… you again?"
Grrrk!
The grinding came so viciously loud that Samryong half wondered whether one of the man's teeth had actually cracked.
Why does this bastard have to stick his nose into everything I do?!
From the very start of today's Hidden Dragon Society gathering to the very end, Samryong's meddling had kept nothing going the way Mae Gukhyeong wanted.
Because of him, everything I've been planning is about to come apart at the seams!
He had meant to draw his own people into the Hidden Dragon Society, cement a firm power base within it, and use that influence to puppet the up-and-coming talents of Chengdu—right down to seizing their very families in his grip!
And Samryong was knocking every last piece of it off the board.
The Qingcheng and Emei factions started watching me warily after that business earlier. Now the Tang Clan will too, no doubt. And once that happens, most of the mid-and-small sects in Chengdu will… damn it! Damn it! Goddamn it! DAMN it! DAMN IT!
On top of all that, he had been planning to cripple at least one limb of Han Lip—the boy Tang Soso seemed so fond of—and here this man was, popping up at the last moment to block him.
Father told me not to get entangled with the Tang Clan. But Tang Samryong… I can't leave you be any longer!
Mae Gukhyeong's murderous glare locked onto Samryong.
"Shall we carve some holes in each other's faces, then?"
"Gladly! I've been curious about the Poison Hero's true skill from the very beginning!"
BOOM!
From every inch of Mae Gukhyeong's body, a monstrous torrent of internal energy began to erupt as if his whole frame had caught fire.