The Day of the Banquet
Just as all kinds of beasts gather in the forest when the mighty tiger celebrates his birthday, all sorts of orthodox martial artists gathered for the banquet celebrating the eighty-eighth birthday—the misu—of Mong Bullak, the Chief of the Beggar's Sect.
As the saying goes, the star of the show always makes the latest entrance; Mong Bullak, the Chief of the Beggar's Sect, was not yet in his seat. Instead, a bustling crowd of guests who had gathered to congratulate him were busy exchanging casual greetings.
Looking from a distance, I saw Man Hanseok talking to a group of middle-aged men with a thoroughly bewildered expression on his face.
"The Human-faced Centipede..." "The Sichuan Tang Clan owes a massive debt to the Donhwa Sect..." "And the person who came with him..."
I couldn't hear them clearly, but it seemed he was single-handedly tanking all the questions about the incident he and I had gotten wrapped up in. Despite his massive build, he was a shy kid at heart, so I really should have gone over to help him. But since I had a mountain of work to do today, my hands were tied. Forgive me, Hanseok! Your senior is a useless chef today!
"Is everything ready?"
I wanted to enjoy the banquet too, but such is the sorrow of a suksu. While everyone else is busy partying, we have to stand in front of a roaring fire. When I asked Yuk Jeong, a Three-Knot Beggar of the Beggar's Sect who was leading the way, he nodded.
"It was quite a chore tracking down a brush of that size."
"My apologies for the trouble. I didn't mean to make things difficult."
"Not at all. If it's to ensure the banquet goes off without a hitch, this is the bare minimum."
The place Yuk Jeong led me to was the spacious training ground of the Beggar's Sect Headquarters. Today, before I even started cooking, I planned to draw a tactical array here. It was one of the things I had learned during my time trapped in the cave, and it was also the most definitive way to understand how the arrangement of Yin-Yang and the Five Elements actually affected reality.
The Illusion Returning Array that had dragged me into that cave in the first place was also a type of array. It was an incredibly complex formation designed to seek out a worthy successor for Old Man Yakseon's martial arts while keeping those who didn't fit far away from the cave.
I hadn't studied arrays because I wanted to. I studied them because if I didn't, I could never escape the Illusion Returning Array. How should I put it? It was basically a Noryangjin goshiwon-style escape room where you literally had to study your way out.
The array I was about to draw this time was incomparably simpler than the Illusion Returning Array, but it still possessed its own level of difficulty. On one side of the training ground lay a massive inkstone prepared by the Beggars and a giant brush that was taller than I was. I immediately grabbed the oversized brush and began painting the array onto the ground.
"Chef Yoon, you even know how to draw tactical arrays?"
"I picked it up here and there."
"Using a tactical array for cooking... I've never seen anything like this in my entire life."
Arrays were typically used for offense, defense, or protection. I was certain he had never seen a crazy bastard who used them for culinary purposes.
"But what kind of array are you planning to use...?"
"The Flame Circle Miracle Array."
"Pardon? Isn't that an array used for launching fire attacks?"
"You seem to know a thing or two about arrays."
"It would be a disgrace if a member of the Beggar's Sect didn't gather information!"
"Then you must also know what the effect of the Flame Circle Miracle Array is."
"When unleashing a fire attack on enemies trapped inside, it prevents the heat and flames from affecting anyone outside the boundary... Ah!" Yuk Jeong's jaw dropped. He seemed to have instantly realized why I was resorting to a tactical array for cooking.
Just as he said, the Flame Circle Miracle Array prevented flames from escaping its boundaries. In other words, it allowed for large-scale cooking outdoors without the need for a proper oven. After finishing the array—accidentally smudging a bit of ink onto my nose in the process—I had the Beggars help me pile firewood and charcoal inside the boundary.
"What about the items? Are they ready?"
"They should be arriving just about now."
Right on cue, several Beggars came grunting as they wheeled a cart toward us. At the back of the cart lay the most crucial, indispensable items for this dish.
"We apologize. It was our first time doing this, so we got a bit lost..." When the Beggar pulling the cart bowed his head, I waved my hand dismissively.
"It's your first time, so it can't be helped. Let's start by placing them one by one on top of the firewood over there."
I had woken up in the early hours of the morning to prepare them, and they had only been completed around noon. They were large lumps of clay, each slightly bigger than a human head. Once the dozens of clay lumps piled in the cart were packed tightly inside the array, the preparation was complete. Next, I took out a fire striker—the Zhongyuan equivalent of a lighter—and sparked a flame.
Crack, crackle, whoosh! Having mixed dry firewood with charcoal, the flames caught instantly. In the blink of an eye, the entire interior of the array transformed into a raging inferno.
Roar! Whoa. It was burning beautifully. The flames were practically as tall as a house. It was hot enough that if you placed a slab of pork belly on a shovel and held it over the fire for three seconds, it would come out perfectly grilled.
Yet, that intense heat was strictly confined to the inside of the array. Outside, we could only feel a mild, pleasant warmth. This was the true marvel of tactical arrays. By artificially manipulating the natural flow of Qi, the heat was prevented from leaking outward.
Meanwhile, another Beggar watching from the side asked with a worried look.
"Chef Yoon, isn't the fire a bit too intense?"
"Don't worry." I walked in a circle around the outer boundary of the array, using the brush in my hand to write a few characters. Almost instantly, the wild flames calmed down. Now, it was the perfect size for a cozy campfire.
"We just need to bake them for about one double-hour."
One double-hour was roughly two hours. All I had to do now was wait patiently. Surely nothing major would happen at the banquet before I got there, right?
Seated at the head table, Mong Bullak, the Chief of the Beggar's Sect, looked out at the crowd with a warm, gratified smile. He looked like an ordinary elderly beggar, making it hard to believe he was the master of the Beggar's Sect, an organization that held the information network of the entire Central Plains in the palm of its hand. Yet, resting beside him was the jade-green Dog Beating Staff, the symbol of his supreme authority.
"Dragon Head Sect Leader, we offer our heartfelt congratulations." With those words, a representative from the Zhuge Clan placed a letter on the table, clasped his hands, and bowed politely.
"I thank you for coming all this way to celebrate the birthday of this humble old beggar."
"We pray that you remain in good health until you reach your sangsu (one hundredth birthday)." Following them, representatives from other noble clans and sects stepped forward to offer similar well-wishes, piling letters and gifts onto the table.
Then, as three people stood up at the same time, the surrounding area instantly grew noisy with whispers.
"Isn't that man Sam Yang, an elder of the Demonic Cult? I heard he used sorcery to defeat the Seven Heroes of Kongtong."
"I've never seen that dark-skinned person next to him before."
"I overheard earlier that she's the Captain of the First White Squad. Has the Demonic Cult grown so weak that they appoint such a scrawny weakling as a captain?"
"What can you expect? It seems they wanted to advertise just how starved for talent they are."
Seonwoo Seol clenched her fists tightly at the orthodox martial artists' blatant mockery. Seeing this, Sam Yang whispered to her in a low voice.
"You must endure it, Young Leader."
"But..."
"Do you wish to give those bastards an excuse? It is only for a few minutes. Please bear with it."
"But they are insulting you as well, Elder Sam..."
"I am perfectly fine. Just endure it a little longer."
Since those claiming to be from prestigious orthodox sects were gossiping loudly enough for everyone to hear, the three members of the Demonic Cult were naturally displeased. Mong Bullak, the host of the banquet, was also listening to every word. Letting out a hearty, booming laugh, Mong Bullak looked toward the three cultists.
"Bwahahaha! Pay them no mind! To think that those who came to celebrate my eighty-eighth birthday would spend their time slandering others instead of checking on my health. I am deeply grateful to the Sacred Cult for sending representatives to congratulate me."
At Mong Bullak's pointed remark—essentially asking why they were causing a ruckus and slandering guests on his birthday—the whispering crowd instantly shut their mouths. Mong Bullak was clearly making a monumental effort to refrain from cursing them out, solely because it was his birthday. Recognizing this, the three members of the Demonic Cult bowed their heads slightly in respect.
"I hope we can continue to maintain good relations with the Sacred Cult this year as well."
"……Thank you, Dragon Head Sect Leader."
Though the three sat down quietly, there was one person among the orthodox faction who simply could not let things go.
"Young hero, wouldn't it be better for you to return to your sandy wasteland?" An elder of the Kongtong Sect spoke, barely moving his lips. To anyone else, he appeared to be sitting quietly, but his voice carried with absolute clarity to Seonwoo Seol, who sat nearby.
"……Excuse me?"
"You people are ruining Chief Mong's birthday banquet. So, why don't you stop bothering the orthodox sects, go back to your castle in the sand in Xinjiang, and stuff your face with dirt?"
Staring straight ahead as if he hadn't said a word, the man was Gwan Yu-ryang, one of the masters of the Seven Heroes of Kongtong. Deeply displeased by the Demonic Cult's presence, he intended to keep baiting Seonwoo Seol—the youngest-looking of the trio—until she lost her temper. He was bitter about Elder Sam Yang defeating the Seven Heroes of Kongtong, and his goal was to provoke them into getting kicked out of the banquet.
He despised Elder Sam Yang for defeating his disciples, and he wanted nothing more than to see the three of them humiliated and thrown out.
Seonwoo Seol's face went blank for a moment before hardening into a cold mask as she snapped her head toward him. She had never been subjected to such blatant, venomous insults before. Sam Yang and Cheong Woo had also overheard the exchange, and their expressions turned icy.
"Silent, I see. Do the dogs of the Demonic Cult truly eat sand for dinner? Or perhaps you've suffered a deviation in your cultivation?"
"……."
When Seonwoo Seol still refused to react, Gwan Yu-ryang narrowed his eyes and began hurling even cruder insults.
"I heard from someone who recently visited a brothel near Poeun that there was a courtesan who looked exactly like Seonwoo Seol, the wicked wench of the Demonic Cult. Are all the women of the Sacred Cult so utterly devoid of chastity?"
"……!"
What absolute, utter garbage. It went beyond mere absurdity; it was a vile, disgusting attempt to drag her through the mud. Just as Seonwoo Seol, Sam Yang, and Cheong Woo were about to leap from their seats and rip Gwan Yu-ryang's throat out—
"Did I take a wrong turn? I thought I was sitting next to the Kongtong Sect, but it seems I've ended up next to a vulgar street thug."
Hearing a mocking voice from behind, Gwan Yu-ryang flinched and whipped his head around.
"What……!"
"Oh, my apologies. Now that I look closer, you're an elder of the Kongtong Sect, aren't you? I am Yoon Gomyung, the chef." Though I was smiling, my eyes were ice-cold as I suddenly materialized behind him.
Since all that was left was to serve the prepared dishes, I had arrived at the banquet hall a bit late and looked for a place to sit. But to my surprise, Dang Go-hye was sitting right next to Man Hanseok. She wasn't the type to leave even if I told her to, so I had no choice but to head toward the Demonic Cult's table.
But when I reached their table, I found some bastard sitting next to Seonwoo Seol, spewing absolute filth as if he had a rag stuffed in his mouth. What did he just call Seonwoo Seol, one of the most wholesome students in our academy? A courtesan? I had walked over in a great mood, excited to talk to her about the dish I had prepared, and this piece of trash had completely ruined it.
"By the way... unless my ears deceive me, I believe I heard you mentioning something about a courtesan. Am I correct?"
"Hmph. You must have misheard."
"Right? I mean, there's no way an elder from the prestigious Kongtong Sect would call the Little Heavenly Demon—who hasn't committed a single evil deed—a wicked wench or a courtesan, right? I must have misheard."
"……."
"Since you have nothing to say, it seems I really did mishear. Please, scold me for speaking out of turn."
"……It is fine."
Did he actually possess a shred of conscience to feel ashamed? He couldn't even bring himself to boldly deny his words. Why the hell was he whispering such garbage if he couldn't even stand by it when confronted by a third party? When I gave him a pointed, silent glare, the elder finally got up and swapped seats with someone else. Ugh, what a mood killer.
I handed Seonwoo Seol a handkerchief. It was a bit crumpled since I had kept it wrapped around my wrist, but it was clean, so it would do.
"It looks like you've got some sweat in your eyes. Here, wipe it."
"……Thank you." As a visibly upset Seonwoo Seol wiped away the tears pooling in her eyes, my heart grew heavy.
"Why let someone like that get to you? You should have just crushed his balls so hard he couldn't even squeak."
Pfft. Seonwoo Seol let out a soft giggle, finding my words amusing. They say if you laugh right after crying... well, never mind. That's not a very polite saying to direct at a lady.
"But if I did that, it would ruin the Dragon Head Sect Leader's birthday banquet."
If she had lived up to her title as the Little Heavenly Demon, grabbed that Kongtong elder by the collar, and slammed him into the dirt, the orthodox sects would have seized the opportunity to claim the Demonic Cult had finally revealed its true, violent colors. Seonwoo Seol had clearly endured it with that exact thought in mind, which was why she had ended up crying. Seeing these self-righteous hypocrites exploit her restraint to insult her made me realize that the Central Plains was just as full of garbage as the modern world.
"Forget what that old bastard said. The food is about to be served, so keep your eyes peeled."
"The food?"
"Isn't that the whole reason I came here?"
Just then, one of the Beggars approached Mong Bullak and whispered in his ear. With a pleased expression, Mong Bullak stood up from his seat and called out to the crowd.
"The banquet dishes are ready, so prepare yourselves for a feast!"
"Oooooh!"
As the crowd erupted into excited cheers, Mong Bullak grinned.
"Among the dishes prepared today, there is one very special creation. It was made by Chef Yoon Gomyung, who serves as the Master of the Inner and Outer Dining Halls at the Academy of Mutual Righteousness."
At his announcement, I stood up and cupped my hands in a polite martial greeting to the crowd.
"I am Yoon Gomyung. It is an honor to present my cooking before the esteemed masters of the Jianghu."
"Yoon Gomyung?"
"The chef who defeated the Great Arch-Demon alongside the Little Heavenly Demon?"
"I heard he also captured a Human-faced Centipede on his way to the headquarters, alongside the son of the Cold Soul Spear?"
"So is he on the side of the orthodox sects, or the Demonic Cult?"
Amidst the buzzing whispers, the words "orthodox" and "demonic" floated around. I supposed those questions arose because I was sitting at the table reserved for the Demonic Cult. But honestly, what did it matter whether I was orthodox or demonic? Remembering the Kongtong elder's vile words made me highly annoyed, so I decided to speak up.
"What does it matter whether one is orthodox, unorthodox, or demonic? My duty is simply to delight your eyes and tongues with delicious food. For today, let us forget such divisions and focus solely on celebrating the eighty-eighth birthday of the Dragon Head Sect Leader."
When I briefly locked eyes with the Kongtong elder, he quickly averted his gaze. At least he had enough shame to feel embarrassed. At my words, Mong Bullak beamed and roared at the top of his lungs.
"Bring out the food!"
With that, Beggars began carrying out trays from all directions. Amidst the array of dishes, one beggar was carrying a particularly dark, lump-like object.
"What on earth is that?"
"Isn't that just a rock?"
"Wait, there's steam rising from it. It must be food."
"Oh my, how hideous."
It was exactly the reaction I had anticipated, and precisely the one I wanted. As soon as the black lump was placed in front of Mong Bullak, I stood up. Mong Bullak was also staring at the black mass before him, completely bewildered.
"Chef Yoon, what in the world is this?"
"Before I explain the dish, allow me to tell you a story."
"A story?"
"Do not worry, it is a short one. If it goes on too long, the dish I worked so hard to prepare will get cold."
When Mong Bullak nodded and gave his permission, I raised my voice so everyone could hear.
"This is a tale from an ancient dynasty. One dark night, a high-ranking official traveling in disguise to inspect the lives of the common people stopped at a mountain pass. There, he spotted a beggar sitting by a campfire, smashing a black lump against the ground. The moment the lump cracked open, a heavenly aroma filled the air, even though the object looked completely inedible."
With those words, I struck the black lump with a metal spoon. Crack! Instantly, a rich, savory aroma of roasted meat wafted in all directions. Mong Bullak, along with the other Beggars nearby, couldn't help but smile in pure bliss.
"Deducing that the lump was indeed food, the official offered the beggar a handsome sum of money to try it. The beggar gladly presented it to him. And when they cracked open the shell, they found a perfectly roasted, golden-brown chicken inside."
As I broke apart the clay shell and peeled back the lotus leaves wrapped inside, a plump, golden-brown whole chicken emerged, releasing a thick cloud of fragrant steam.
"Oh ho!" Mong Bullak gasped in admiration at the mouthwatering sight. Yes, this was exactly the reaction I wanted.
"The official thoroughly enjoyed the roasted chicken, and he later summoned the beggar to employ him as his personal chef."
As I finished my story and bowed, Mong Bullak asked with a highly satisfied expression.
"A dish prepared by a beggar... It is truly a fitting meal for the Beggar's Sect. What is its name?"
"Some call it the 'Rich and Noble Chicken' because it was enjoyed by a high-ranking official, but I believe another name suits it far better."
Using tongs, I lifted the chicken, placed it on a clean plate, and carefully set it down in front of Mong Bullak.
"It is the Beggar's Chicken."