I Never Expected This Turn of Events

Iron-Heart Heavy Fist, Ban Gyuseong.

The protagonist of this wuxia novel, and my rival.

Finally!

He was a couple of years younger than I was, and I was already a grown man, yet if we had never come to blows over Han Soso we would have been the sort of friends who stake their lives on each other. We simply fit that well.

At the start he steps in to protect her, convinced I have designs on Han Soso. Then, even as the two of them bicker, they grow close. Affection for her takes root in him, and in the end he admits what he feels and meets me as a rival in good faith.

Caught in the schemes of the Resourceful Wise Woman, Jegal Yeonji, he has a kill order laid on him by the bastards of the shadow organization. He and Han Soso survive back to back, and just when they are too spent to live once the enemy's reinforcements arrive, I show up and save them. That was how the story was meant to run in Sichuan.

Ha... I've spent all this time thinking of nothing but this guy, and already I want to greet him like an old friend.

Ban Gyuseong didn't know me. I knew him. The familiarity was entirely one-sided, and barging in with a friendly face before he had any idea who I was would be a mistake.

"I got dragged into this as well."

"The young lady in your hands does not appear to welcome it."

"I was the one attacked first, mind you..."

But the man was the sort who didn't listen. Little by little he started cracking his fists, laying a threat on me.

Ha. Yeah. That's Ban Gyuseong... iron-headed bastard.

He was past a blockhead. That one was pure iron.

Swing a sleeve to shake off the Ban Gyuseong closing in, and a proper bout begins.

If I'm recreating the original anyway, I might as well see how strong the protagonist is right now. The opening was me firing a palm wind, wasn't it?

I flicked my hand as lightly as if I were chasing off a gnat. The gesture carried internal energy, so the drunks nearby caught the palm wind and were shoved back — but the protagonist crossed his arms, blocked it, and struck in return.

Thud!

Palm wind met a man's forearm, and the sound that rang out was steel on steel. Ban Gyuseong endured the shock, charged, and swung his fist. The instant I turned my eyes to meet it—

What was it again? I skimmed the fight scenes, so I don't remember... ah—!

"Cinnabar Cloud Flowing Sword!"

Han Soso had swung with fighting spirit, short of true killing intent, meaning to take at least one of my arms. When the ambush failed she tried to recover the sword, certain a counter was coming — but I was a little faster.

I can't pin her here. This is supposed to be a grand battle, one against two...

I turned my gaze as if Ban Gyuseong had stolen my attention, and the one rushing in—

Thump!

"Kh—!"

I loaded internal power into my shoulder and tried to shed the blow, but it still landed like a hammer. My body was driven back, and just as I'd intended, I used the opening to let go of Han Soso.

While that happened I retreated and took stock of myself.

So this is what a strike backed by internal energy feels like?

When I sparred with my junior sister, we matched forms and tested our combinations. We had never beaten or cut each other with the intent to kill. Accidents happen in ordinary training — a stray slap, a sword that slices too far — but neither she nor I was unskilled enough for that.

In other words, this was the first real blow I had taken since stepping into the world of a wuxia novel.

It... hurts quite a bit.

It hurt, quite literally, down to the bone. A bruise was already certain, and the swelling in my shoulder told me the body had taken real damage.

There was a reason he would later earn the name Iron-Heart Heavy Fist. Get hit by that fist and it hurt like death, as if someone had driven iron into the punch.

"Ha! This bastard... that face just begs to be hit, doesn't it?"

It was a line from the original, but now that I'd been hit like this, I understood to the bone why the Yeon Cheongha of the novel had wanted to thrash Ban Gyuseong. That face was hateful, and he hadn't even given me a reason.

"I didn't need your help."

"Understood. From this moment, however, it would appear you do."

"Hmph. Worry about yourself."

The two of them had already taken their places and were snapping at each other even as they prepared to come at me. In that instant I ran through what I remembered of them.

Ban Gyuseong's master had come within a breath of first-rate and then given up, unable to cross the wall — a second-rate expert. He had passed down his half-baked external arts and a clumsy internal method, but Ban Gyuseong was so great a genius that he grasped the subtleties hidden in those arts on his own. The external art was completed, and his internal energy was growing deeper and more solid than his master's.

"Huuuu...!"

The disciple had possessed genius from the start. Not long after training began he had already surpassed his master — yet that master, too short-sighted to see it and preoccupied with his own circumstances, had frightened the boy. Because of it, right up until Ban Gyuseong set foot in the murim, he went on believing he was weak.

It was no different from the old story of the flea trained to jump inside a cup. Take the cup away, and it still will not leap any higher, having decided that height was its limit.

He's definitely weak.

Was it because I was stronger than in the original, or because my junior sister sat quietly in my heart and left me steady, so this felt easy by comparison? Either way, their joint attack didn't feel particularly threatening.

"Haah!"

Impatient by nature, Han Soso came in first and swung. There was no strength in her footwork, only a light step, and as she prepared to cut she didn't lock her grip on the hilt. She shook her wrist and opened her fingers. A feint, meant to deceive.

I'd be rattled by the feint. Before she mixes a real stroke into it, Ban Gyuseong cuts in, their attacks tangle, and then they eat my counter and get suppressed... That's how it should go. Well, I'm not volunteering to be hit, so I'll deflect them cleanly and steer this toward a draw.

In the original, too, they handed the protagonist a decision victory. In truth it was nearly a draw. And no, that wasn't because I was the rival — the text really did describe it as close to even. All I had to do was match the result.

Huh?

There was a problem. Ban Gyuseong wasn't moving.

She was supposed to recover the sword mid-attack, afraid she might cut him, but he was staring blankly at me while Han Soso performed her sword art alone. I had no choice but to stop her by myself.

Did I remember it wrong? Or has something changed?

A sword was flying at my face. Blocking came first.

A sword parting the air, light in weight... and among the strokes, the only one that seems to be hunting an opening...

Only one blow carried the feel of internal energy. A sword path sweeping low from the lower left up toward the middle of the right side. Ban Gyuseong was supposed to step into that space and get tangled in it, but the situation had changed, so before Han Soso could swing I closed in and stepped inside her measure.

"Ah!"

I snatched the wrist that held the sword and turned it lightly. Her hand bent, and the blade left her grip. She would have told herself she didn't want to drop it even if her arm broke — but the gap in internal energy was too wide to resist. The way an adult can peel a child's clenched fingers open one by one and take whatever is held inside.

Here he comes!

Just before Han Soso lost the sword and was fully suppressed, Ban Gyuseong moved. He planted both legs wide, stamped hard, gathered the shock rebounding from the floor, drove it into his dantian, and drew his internal energy out in a single explosive punch.

It was the finishing form that was supposed to close this duel.

Wasn't he supposed to scuffle a few times in the middle before using that?

Thud!

The process got skipped, but the first meeting was meant to end with me trying to suppress Han Soso, eating the Iron Flash Fist, and getting blown out of the inn.

Yeon Cheongha comes within a breath of putting both of them down, takes this, and flies backward in serious shock. At his basic level he could have dodged with room to spare. He was hit because his reactions had dulled, and that becomes the moment he thinks, Have I rotted this badly? Though it is only a lesser art, he resumes his training, and in his heart he comes to acknowledge the protagonist. An important turning point.

But I don't want to be hit, so I'll meet only the level of internal energy he's putting out... just enough that he can believe we wrecked each other. That shouldn't stray too far from the original.

The form itself was simple and slow. Matching it shouldn't have been particularly difficult. That was what I was thinking.

"Senior Brother! Look out!"

Junior Sister?!

Her scream came from the inn entrance at my back. My focus scattered in an instant, and I missed the timing to dodge the Iron Flash Fist.

I could no longer pretend at a mutual ruin. Dodge, or block — those were the only choices, and if I dodged now, the aftermath would go straight into my junior sister behind me. Original plot, a draw, all of it — before I could calculate any of it, my hand shot out and wrapped the Iron Flash Fist.

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

Thooooom—!

A heavy boom tried to roll out, like a hammer stuffed into an enormous cotton quilt and swung at a wall. Then it crumpled, caught by force inside my palm.

"Kh—!"

Ban Gyuseong spat blood and was the one driven back. He smashed through the table of two middle-aged men who had been watching and slammed into the inn's wall.

Crash!

I was supposed to break through the entrance, tumble across the ground, and be laughed at by the people of Sichuan — and in the midst of it, a courtesan I had grown close to at a pleasure house would step in to shield me, forcing the protagonist to take one step back. Because of that bitter loss, Yeon Cheongha would begin training again and temper his body, yet still find the Pure Heart Glazed Art difficult to use, so he would hone a lesser art and build his strength. That was how the opening was meant to go...

"Ah..."

The situation had reversed. I had won.

By the original, I was supposed to take this and lose. Instead, the instant I thought my junior sister was in danger, I caught the Iron Flash Fist on instinct, countered with internal energy, and sent the rebounding force back into him, blowing Ban Gyuseong away.

Not a draw. A crushing victory. Had this not become the worst possible wrecking of the original?

"Senior Brother, are you all right?"

The clash of immense qi had left the ground around the inn ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠entrance a wreck, and my junior sister came to me with tears brimming, taking my hand. There was no grave injury — only the flesh of my palm a little torn from the collision of internal power — and even that seemed to worry her. Tears stood in her eyes as if she might cry at any moment.

"I'm fine."

When I drew internal energy up, the wound on my palm closed at once. Aside from a slight sting, it was dealt with. The real problem began now.

"Cough—!"

Looking at Ban Gyuseong coughing blood, plainly injured inside, getting him up for a second round and dragging things along until they looked roughly even was impossible.

"Damn it!"

Even so, I couldn't leave the protagonist to die. I rented an empty room at the inn, sat him down, and laid a hand on his back.

But this guy... was his body always this slight?

My junior sister and Han Soso already gave a different impression from the novel's cover, so I had let it pass — yet he looked even shorter, and smaller in frame, than I had expected. I forced the blood-coughing Ban Gyuseong to sit, made him cross his legs, and set a hand against his back. Perhaps he thought I was attacking again. He flinched and tried to twist away from my touch.

"Hold still. I'm trying to help."

Clothes would get in the way of sending internal energy in, so I moved to strip them — and suddenly, internal injury and all, he tried to thrash.

"Damn it! You're being a real pain!"

I couldn't use strength on a patient. In the end we reached an awkward compromise: I lifted the clothes and slipped my hand inside, so I could pour internal energy in directly.

What's the problem with a man baring his chest...!

With my hand on his back to treat the injury, a faint, pleasant scent of skin seemed to drift from him. Something like face powder. Something sweet. It was not the stale body odor I had expected from a man.

This pattern... I don't like where it's going.

Things may have diverged from the original, but the genre wasn't about to flip into a romance between men, was it? It wasn't, right? And why was a man's waist this ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠narrow?

Damn it... I'll keep him alive for now, and stay clear of him for a while.

When a novel refuses to go as one expects, the author is bound to start forcing things. Worried over how this world inside the book might change, I carefully poured internal energy into Ban Gyuseong's back.

"...I'm not doing this because I enjoy it, so hold still."

"Cough...!"

From the very beginning, something about the world inside ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠this novel had been turning strangely.