Chapter 242
Chapter 242
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>Translator: Ryuma
>Chapter: 242
>Chapter Title: Gambling (2)
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About a month ago.
Peng Ji-gwang, the third son of the Hebei Peng Clan, had business taking him to the Shandong Huangbo Clan.
He tagged along with the family elders under some pretext or other, but his true goal was clear enough.
The Huangbo Clan. That was where Huangbo Se-hee—one of the Five Flowers of the martial world—resided.
A little over a year prior, Peng Ji-gwang had brushed past her by chance and fallen head over heels at first sight. He'd wheedled his way into the family delegation visiting the Huangbo Clan under the guise of inter-clan exchange.
As the Huangbo side turned out their elders and direct descendants to welcome the guests and enjoy an evening meal together.
The elders from both families swapped tales of their wild youth in the jianghu.
Huangbo Se-hee, who had been listening quietly, murmured to herself.
“I’d love to go on a jianghu tour sometime myself.”
Peng Ji-gwang, who’d been ignoring the elders’ chatter to sneak glances at her alone, didn’t miss a word.
“Hahaha. What’s stopping you? As they say, seeing is believing. You’ve got to experience the jianghu at least once in your life, right?”
He nearly tacked on, “If you’d like, I’d be happy to accompany you,” but cut himself short when an elder sent him a transmission.
It wasn’t outright rude, but his intentions were plain as day.
An awkward silence naturally settled in, until one woman shattered it.
“Not a bad idea, Young Master Peng. I’ve been itching for a challenge tour myself, so this is the perfect chance to take Se-hee along.”
Huangbo Yeon.
The Huangbo Clan’s eldest daughter, known as one of the Nine New Stars and the Fist Phoenix among the Seven Dragons and One Phoenix.
Unlike her sister Huangbo Se-hee—called one of the Five Flowers—Huangbo Yeon boasted a sturdy warrior’s build of six chi (180 cm) despite being a woman.
That didn’t mean Huangbo Se-hee and Huangbo Yeon were half-sisters or anything.
Huangbo Yeon simply took after their father a bit more, while Huangbo Se-hee resembled their mother to an extreme degree.
And Huangbo Yeon had stepped in for her younger sister’s sake.
She’d noticed Se-hee’s discomfort around that Peng Ji-gwang fool, and pitied her sibling—who’d barely ever left the clan grounds, let alone toured the jianghu.
And so, Huangbo Yeon and Huangbo Se-hee set off—along with Peng Ji-gwang, who’d thrown a fit until he got his way. Their challenge tour began as a trio.
They started at Henan’s Shaolin Temple, then hit Hubei’s Wudang Mountain and Zhuge Clan. On to Shaanxi’s Mount Hua Sect and Kongtong Sect.
They roamed famous peaks and rivers across provinces, challenging renowned clans and sects to spars.
Along the way, other young talents occasionally joined, and before long their group had swelled to six.
Bodyguards had come along at first, but as the party grew, it naturally became just the juniors traveling together.
After visiting Mount Hua and Kongtong in Shaanxi, their original next stop had been Sichuan. But en route, they caught wind of a curious rumor.
“They say Kongtong Mountain and nearby Pingliang County have all sorts of rare spectacles you won’t find elsewhere.”
Intrigued, they veered off course toward Kongtong Mountain, enjoyed its peaks the next day, and inevitably wound up in Pingliang County.
Having heard about the Hall of Arts there, they headed straight for the choreographed martial display.
Watching the two warriors on stage trade flashy blows, Huangbo Se-hee—her face veiled in silk—giggled like a child and whispered to herself.
“Wow, it’s way more exciting than I expected.”
That single remark twisted Peng Ji-gwang’s guts.
They’d traveled together for a month now, but Huangbo Yeon’s constant interference had kept him from so much as a proper conversation. His mood was already soured.
‘Those hack performers are nothing compared to me. I’ll show her how much better I am!’
Certain that would win her interest, Peng Ji-gwang unleashed his lightness skill and leaped onto the stage.
Before anyone could stop him, a young Taoist in a Tai Chi-patterned uniform turned to Huangbo Yeon with a worried look as Peng charged out.
“Miss Huangbo, you sure it’s fine not to stop him?”
Like Huangbo Yeon, he was one of the Seven Dragons and One Phoenix—Wudang’s Sword Dragon, Yunbaek the Taoist priest. She just shrugged with a bored expression.
“Too late for that, isn’t it? Besides, Young Master Peng needs to get himself into a bind once or twice before he learns some restraint.”
Her response drew shocked looks from the rest of the group.
“You’re saying those two are better than Young Master Peng?”
Huangbo Yeon nodded indifferently at Zhuge Eun-young’s question.
Yunbaek, who’d noticed the same, pressed further.
“That’s why I asked, Miss Huangbo. What if Peng Ji-gwang gets hurt mid-spar? Things could get messy after.”
Huangbo Yeon let out a deep, weary sigh.
* * *
Meanwhile.
Il-mok, who’d been watching Peng Ji-gwang’s antics in secret, noticed the performers’ distress.
Since he’d come incognito, he let out a soft sigh and sent a transmission.
It was quite a distance, but no trouble for Il-mok at his advanced level.
—Suppress him with basic swordplay only. Don’t reveal your demonic arts.
The warrior flinched at the unexpected transmission but quickly composed himself and spoke.
“How about a spar with me, then? Young hero Peng Ji-gwang.”
“Hahaha. Got some pride, I see.”
The Heavenly Demon Divine Cult warrior inwardly chuckled at Peng’s bluster.
But the match that followed unfolded nothing like Peng expected.
Unlike the flashy, exaggerated moves of the choreographed display, the warrior pressed him with simple, fundamentals-based strikes.
Partly to avoid revealing his style, but mostly because the gap in skill and combat experience was simply too vast.
“Waaah!”
The crowd cheering for the warrior only made Peng Ji-gwang’s face burn redder as he got pushed back.
“Eeeeek!”
Finally, in a rage, he roared, channeling his qi into the Peng Clan signature art, Five Tiger Short Gate Blade—first form: Fierce Tiger Emerges.
Qi surged from his dantian, raced through his meridians, gathered in his blade, and erupted as a hazy tiger-shaped saber qi.
Peng wasn’t at the peak realm yet. He was compensating for his lacking insight with the technique’s power.
By Central Plains standards, first-rate at best.
But.
Paht!
The warrior dodged the saber qi with casual footwork, closed in instantly, and swung.
Slice!
Peng’s blade sheared off with pathetic ease. Sword qi now shimmered along the warrior’s edge.
Unlike Peng, this was a seasoned peak master.
As the warrior leveled his sword at Peng’s throat, cheers exploded from the crowd.
“Waaah!”
Peng had barged in acting cocky, so he’d become the villain by now.
Defeated before his crush wasn’t bad enough—he’d earned the crowd’s mockery too. His face flushed crimson, ready to burst.
And as Peng seemed about to snap.
Paht.
Someone else leaped onto the stage.
“I’m Huangbo Yeon of the Huangbo Clan. Allow me to apologize on behalf of my acquaintance to both seniors in the spar and everyone here.”
With that, Huangbo Yeon offered a fist salute to all four directions.
Il-mok scratched his chin watching her.
‘At least that woman knows basic manners. Would’ve been better if she’d stopped the fool beforehand, though. Huangbo Yeon, huh. Rings a bell...’
Her fame must’ve been considerable, as murmurs rose from behind.
“Huangbo Yeon? You mean the Fist Phoenix of the Seven Dragons and One Phoenix?”
“Has to be. That unladylike build is her trademark.”
Il-mok let out a small “Hmm” now that he knew who she was.
‘Seven Dragons and One Phoenix. All around her level, probably?’
She’d passed the early peak stage, reaching a fairly mature level.
The Cult had experts aplenty at that tier, of course. But circumstances differed.
Demonic arts grew fast but drove most mad or killed them outright, stalling progress at higher levels.
Righteous arts grew slower but steadily.
Someone reaching that realm via the slower righteous path had high odds of becoming a true powerhouse later.
As Il-mok mulled over the righteous juniors.
Huangbo Yeon, having apologized for the rudeness, turned to Peng Ji-gwang.
“Young Master Peng. How about we head back? The group’s waiting.”
“......”
Peng’s anger hadn’t cooled, but he couldn’t argue with her.
She was stronger than him, and he didn’t fancy losing to a woman in front of this crowd on top of everything.
“Hoo. For the Fist Phoenix’s sake, I’ll let it slide this time.”
Muttering that to save face, Peng followed Huangbo Yeon offstage.
Il-mok spotted a few peers in the seats they headed for and lost interest.
Uncomfortable lingering after that lunatic’s stunt, the whole group filed out.
‘Tch. Long as he doesn’t stick around Pingliang causing trouble, our paths won’t cross again.’
Amid the chaos from Peng and Huangbo Yeon, the announcer stepped forward and shouted to the crowd.
“With the match disrupted and the mood killed, we’ll postpone this one! But we’ll proceed straight to the next scheduled bout!”
The scripted flow had broken, it seemed.
Under the veteran announcer’s lead, the two stage warriors withdrew, and murmurs rose again from the back.
Talk centered on the next fighters or the recent intruders.
But one snippet caught Il-mok’s ear.
“What about our bets if it didn’t finish?”
“They wouldn’t dare call it a draw, would they? Draws weren’t even an option.”
Il-mok’s lips twisted faintly.
‘Thanks to that idiot, looks like I’ve found the tail faster than expected.’
A silver lining, perhaps.
* * *
After the choreographed bouts wrapped.
Il-mok rose a beat late and trailed the gamblers he’d overheard.
The others had scattered to tail their own suspects. Chasing one as a pack risked losing the head if things went sideways.
Songs, instrumentals, and poetry recitals echoed through the streets.
But Il-mok’s marks ignored the revelry, heading to a remote spot.
He tailed them to an old house on the outskirts—once home to someone who’d died by ghost handiwork, now abandoned.
Suspecting it as a hideout, he approached. But the signs of life inside were few.
“We nailed every bout but the first!”
“You’re not gonna claim the first was a draw, are you?”
“Hahaha. Calm down, lads. Would I do that to you?”
Eavesdropping closer, it seemed less a base than a meeting spot.
‘They’re operating pretty systematically, as expected.’
Il-mok assessed, cloaked himself in stealth, and waited for their deal to end.
“Since the match got voided, we’ll count your picks as wins. Hahaha. You made some coin—why not bet bigger next time? Bigger stakes mean bigger payouts, right?”
The gambler tempted them smoothly.
The easiest way to hook someone on gambling: let them win at first.
Unable to resist, they placed fresh bets and stormed out, eyes bloodshot.
Moments later, the gambler himself exited and slunk off.
Wary of tails, he looped through Pingliang’s alleys and backstreets. Only after about fifteen minutes did he slip into a manor.
Il-mok eyed the unmarked estate, then turned.
Danbin and Jin Ha-yeon had just arrived, having trailed their own gambler.
—You beat me here?
—This seems like the main base, Young Master.
Il-mok nodded agreement and pulled a mask from his robes.
“Time to clean up the trash.”
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