Chapter 61
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: Crossing the Line
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While playing with Eunbi in the Yeongbin Pavilion, Cheon Yeoseol asked,
"Eunbi unni. Don't you want to go to the Nangong Family?"
"Yes. After all, everything I have is there. My family too. But Lady Yeoseol, do you want me to stay here with you?"
"No. People should be with their family. That's what makes them happy. Once the sixtieth birthday celebration ends, go with the three guard uncles."
Eunbi's heart swelled with emotion at the young girl's considerate words.
When Scholar Cheon had first brought her here, Yeoseol had been a wild, clueless little rascal.
Back then, she'd been like a feral kitten scratching at everything, but now she'd grown into a girl who thought of others. It filled Eunbi with fresh.
"Unni, I'm heading to my room. Too many people around."
Lately, even the area near the rooms where they were staying had been filling up with unorthodox fighters, making Yeoseol uneasy.
She had never lived anywhere with so many people before.
There was her big brother's warning too, but she still wasn't used to all the stares.
"Scholar Cheon said they're cleaning the house where we'll live. Once it's done, we'll move there, so just bear with it a little longer even if it's uncomfortable."
As Yeoseol headed to her room, Eunbi went to the kitchen to prepare some snacks Yeoseol liked.
The day before, a martial artist who had moved into the room across from theirs called out to Eunbi.
"Hey, come here."
Eunbi didn't think he was calling her and didn't even turn around.
That was when it happened.
Whoosh!
Thud!
A dagger embedded itself in the pillar right next to Eunbi.
It had flown so close that a slight miss could have buried it in her head.
Eunbi whipped her head toward the thrower with a fierce glare before she could stop herself.
"What was that!"
"Oh ho! Even the Hyuncheon Sect's maids have such spirit. Ignoring a guest's call and glaring like that. Truly worthy of the Supreme Unorthodox Sect."
"I'm not a Hyuncheon Sect maid."
"As if. You're a Yeongbin Pavilion servant."
"I'm just temporarily attending guests from elsewhere."
"Trying to fool me with lies. You look every bit the Pavilion servant. Come to my room later."
Eunbi was so dumbfounded and angry that she turned toward her room without another word.
"Who said you could go?"
His slurred tone dripped with provocation.
She felt like she'd snap if she kept talking, so Eunbi walked silently toward the room.
Swish!
This time, something wrapped around her ankle.
A whip coiled tight around Eunbi's ankle.
"I don't like women who ignore me."
At that moment, the door opened, and Yeoseol stepped out.
"Let her go."
The man raked his weasel-like eyes over Yeoseol.
"What's this brat doing, talking like that?"
"Then why are you talking like that?"
"Heh! You don't even know who I am?"
"How would I know an ugly weasel like you! Let her go and get lost!"
Yeoseol unleashed every insult she knew in her anger.
"Who's the brat?"
"I'm a guest here. The little sister of the owner of this place's invitee."
"Owner?"
"Yeah. The one they call the Supreme Unorthodox Lord."
"Ahahaha! Now even brats are trying to deceive me. What does your brother do? Which sect?"
"He doesn't have any of that. My big brother is a scholar."
"What? A scholar? Hahahahaha!"
The man suddenly clutched his stomach laughing.
"The Supreme Unorthodox Lord invited a lowly scholar?"
Tears streaming, he grinned maliciously.
"Ha... You're so ignorant, I don't even know where to start educating you."
Killing intent flared in the man's eyes.
Yeoseol asked,
"Who are you?"
"Why do you ask?"
"So I can tell my big brother later and have him beat you."
"Oh? In that case, I should tell you. I'm Wang Shim, Deputy Hall Master of the Iron Blood Hall—the second strongest unorthodox sect in Gangseo after the Hyuncheon Sect, the Rakshasa Ghost Whip. Heard of me? I'm pretty famous."
"Now I know who you are, so get lost already."
"This brat dares! I was going easy because you're young, but you have no manners! Today, I'll teach you some."
Wang Shim raised his whip.
Seeing it, Yeoseol glared at him.
'Should I just kill this bastard? Big brother might scold me, but I'm too mad to hold back.'
Yeoseol hopped up and yanked the dagger that had been thrown at Eunbi from the pillar.
"Heh! You dare challenge the Rakshasa Ghost Whip? I don't go easy on kids."
"Why don't you put that away."
The voice came from behind, and the weasel's eyes snapped toward it.
"Who the hell are you? Wait. That mouth—you're a scholar, right? The brat's brother?"
Cheon Taesan circulated his energy to scan the man. No Seven Stars Origin Energy—just a rabid dog with a foul temper.
The best way to deal with such dogs was to beat them down, but the problem was this one had some pedigree.
"Why's a scholar punk here? What the hell do you want? Anyway, if you crawl under my legs, I'll forgive your little sister's rudeness."
Hearing that, Cheon Taesan made up his mind.
"Yeoseol, go to my room and fetch my wooden sword."
"Big brother."
"It's fine. A wooden sword's perfect for catching mad dogs."
Yeoseol grinned and fetched the wooden sword from the room.
"Am I watching you beat a mad dog today?"
"Hah, you idiots. You have no fear of the world. A wooden sword?"
Wang Shim laughed in disbelief and released the whip.
"Die proudly by the Black Lin Life-Death Whip today."
"Deputy Hall Master!"
Then an Iron Blood Hall subordinate rushed up and called to Wang Shim.
His fun interrupted, Wang Shim glared at the man.
"What?"
"What are you doing? It's time for your match, Deputy Hall Master. If you don't go now, it'll be a forfeit."
"What? Time's up already?"
Wang Shim hadn't even realized his match time.
"You scholar bastard! Wait right there! I'll come back after winning and deal with you. Don't run, or I'll hunt you down and kill your whole family."
Seeing Wang Shim bluster to the end, Cheon Taesan couldn't hold back anymore.
"Hey, after beating your opponent, nominate me. I'll be your next match."
"Good idea! Yeah, I'll finish quick, so wait by my arena."
"Don't lose. Do well."
Wang Shim shot back at Cheon Taesan's words.
"I respect your guts. For that spirit, I'll just cut off one arm."
Wang Shim dashed toward the arena.
"Big brother, don't let that shit dog get away with it. Or I'll kill him myself."
"I can't let someone who insulted my family off. You stay in the room."
"Aww. I wanna watch."
"I'll give him a proper thrashing, so don't worry."
"Lady. It's best to wait here until Scholar Cheon returns victorious."
Knowing Cheon Taesan's concern, Yeoseol pouted but nodded.
"But make sure he can't walk. He thought Eunbi unni was his servant. Unforgivable."
"Of course. I can't let him who insulted my sister and Eunbi get away."
Cheon Taesan headed to the arena.
As he neared the arena, unorthodox fighters were busy betting on match outcomes.
Even the Murim Alliance's tournaments had underground bets, but the unorthodox factions did it openly.
Sect cheers were deafening.
Most cheers were vicious: kill him, split him in two, rip out his throat, gouge his eyes.
'Good thing I didn't bring Yeoseol. She'd pick up all these curses here.'
I approached Wang Shim's arena.
"Well, if it isn't you!"
A voice boomed into my ear.
He'd used inner power so I'd hear.
I turned and looked up at the platform.
Mak Jimong sat in a shaded canopy chair, watching the matches.
It was a seat for VIPs.
"Here to watch?"
"Yeah."
Still speaking casually, I made Mak Jimong look exasperated before he replied.
"Come up here. Better view."
"Thanks."
I didn't refuse and strode up the stairs to him.
The guards around him bristled threateningly.
I ignored them and sat in an empty chair.
"Damn scholar's got guts, living like a mayfly."
I could feel it.
The Silk Sac in his gut was steadily absorbing his inner power.
And as it did, his affinity toward me was rising.
I could tell from his eyes.
At first, he'd looked at me with killing intent, not seeing me as human.
Now, that disgust was gone.
'The Silk Sac is definitely boosting his favor toward me. Time to test it.'
I grabbed the wine bottle in front of Mak Jimong and poured into my cup.
Shing!
Swords drew at the sound, but Mak Jimong grabbed his guard's hand.
"It's fine! He's just drinking—why so jumpy?"
The guard sheathed his sword, looking flustered.
"Who knows how long you can act like this in front of me. Enjoy it while it lasts."
Glug glug.
I poured a cup, drank, and replied.
"Good stuff. Want one?"
Mak Jimong stared, then smirked and held out his cup.
His unfamiliar guards looked shocked.
"You don't even watch the matches. Why'd you come?"
Mak Jimong, with nothing better to do, was glued here watching fights.
Masters found low-level bouts boring, but as barely second-rate, he seemed to enjoy them.
"Came to beat someone I don't like."
"Huh? Really?"
Mak Jimong glanced around.
"Another scholar here?"
Unable to imagine a scholar beating a martial artist, he thought I meant beating another scholar and craned his neck searching.
"Woooah!"
Then a flashy move and air-ripping sound burst from the arena.
Wang Shim had wrapped his black whip around the giant and hurled him into the air.
Thud!
The giant crashed, clothes shredded, blood flowing.
Mak Jimong asked his guard.
"Who wins?"
"Match is over. Iron Blood Hall Deputy Hall Master wins."
"Huh? Pig's not down yet?"
"Whip infused inner power while binding, disrupting opponent's qi. Can't move."
"Urk!"
The giant spewed a bowlful of blood and collapsed.
"Woooah!"
"Iron Blood Hall's Deputy Hall Master is the best!"
"Hero Wang forever!"
Mak Jimong asked,
"Is the Iron Blood Hall Deputy first-rate?"
"Yes. Beyond first-rate."
Not being first-rate himself, he reacted sensitively.
I replied,
"No wonder the Deputy looked down on the Supreme Unorthodox Lord's heir. Makes sense now."
"What? What'd that punk say?"
"Thought lightly of Hyuncheon Sect."
"That bastard—I'll!"
"Hold still. I'll discipline him. The Lord's heir's tutor will handle it, so stay put, disciple."
"Huh?"
As Mak Jimong stared at my nonsense, Wang Shim pointed at me from the arena and shouted.
"Match ended too quick and boring, so bonus round! Someone dared challenge Rakshasa Ghost Whip Wang Shim—a scholar, no less. You! Get up here!"
At Wang Shim's words, I drained my cup and stood, wooden sword in hand.
Mak Jimong stared blankly.
"You're fighting with a wooden sword?"
"Worried about me?"
He flinched at my question, then raised his voice like it was ridiculous.
"What nonsense! Kill him or die, do whatever. I'll enjoy the show either way."
I slowly walked up to the arena. The spectators laughed at the sight.
"Wahahahaha!"
Most martial artists flew up lightly with lightness skill, so walking up made me the first target of ridicule.