Chapter 38: The Masked Beauty's Secret
Yi Jinpyeong burst through the ceiling of Pung Gaekru in an instant. It was a movement and speed on an entirely different level from anything he'd shown so far. His hand sliced through the air, snatching something mid-escape. A pale, slender ankle. The woman trying to flee was dressed as one of the courtesans. She twisted her body with a flutter of fabric and shwick! unleashed a volley of hidden weapons.
Silver needles bloomed right in front of his face.
“!!!”
The moment he whipped his sleeve to deflect them, her dagger was already at his throat. A chilling touch. The blade tip pierced past his skin, just barely nicking the flesh beneath. A shiver of cold menace raced up his spine. Since awakening to his reincarnation, this was the first thrilling threat no one else had ever managed to deliver.
He released her ankle and flicked the dagger away. In that instant, the freed woman shot forward like a coiled spring. Every motion was perfectly calculated—natural, immediate.
“Not bad!”
Yi Jinpyeong let out a gasp of admiration. But once he set his mind on catching someone, he never let go.
One Line of Wind, Body Held in the Midst
Transforming into a single streak of wind, he overtook her in a flash and slammed down hard on her ankle just as she reached the edge of the Pung Gaekru roof. Crack! Something snapped. The woman didn't even let out a single cry of pain, nor did she abandon her escape. But as she flipped her body and reached into her bosom for something else—
“Damn, you're a tough one to talk down.”
Yi Jinpyeong's fist plunged into her face. Crunch!
To be safe, he sealed her acupoints as well, then carefully examined the unconscious woman. A face he'd never seen before. No surprise there. Her outfit was a riot of vibrant colors, just like the courtesans scattered throughout Pung Gaekru. But no ordinary courtesan could possess martial prowess this refined. And the black, translucent veil draped over her face. Hiding her identity, perhaps?
As he reached to pull it away, her eyes snapped open. Sharp gaze piercing through the thin fabric. But realizing her acupoints were sealed, she suddenly flashed a round, smiling expression.
“Oh my. What a handsome young master. Did you come to rescue me?”
Her voice rolled like jade beads. Brazen, after unleashing those deadly hawk-like strikes moments ago.
Yi Jinpyeong snorted.
“...Who the hell are you?”
“What a strange question. I'm just a courtesan working at Pung Gaekru. I sell smiles and songs...”
“Do courtesans these days leap across rooftops like some noble gentleman?”
“I was just chasing a cute little cat and ended up on the roof. As a dancer of song and dance, I'm naturally nimble. But once I got up here, it was higher than I thought, and I froze. Luckily, you came along—”
“You planning to keep bullshitting me? Lie one more time, and I'll shatter your other ankle too.”
The woman let out a small sigh. After a pause, she reluctantly confessed her true identity.
“...Fine. Truth is, I'm an informant for Chwi Hwa Bang. We manage Pung Gaekru, so I came to check out the bastard causing a ruckus. I figured with the Three Guests of Flower and Wine stepping in, it'd be nothing, but I never expected things to go like this.”
Yi Jinpyeong chuckled.
“Lies from the moment you open your mouth.”
Crunch!
Without mercy, he crushed her other ankle. Now both ankles were shattered. It had to hurt like hell, yet she didn't make a sound. Who knew what expression hid behind that veil.
“You think I'll just let you go easy like I did those Three Guests? Better not lie. I've known since we left Yi Gajang that someone was tailing us.”
“......”
“Wasn't someone as strong as you at first. Must've swapped midway—kept some lackey on watch, then you stepped in when you heard I left the market. Who'd have such keen interest in me right now? Hwang Sabang's done for, and Jang Gapae doesn't seem the type for sneaky shit like this. Leaves just one: Dongbeonhoe. Stinks of rot from every angle.”
After a long silence, the woman met his eyes straight on and let out a sigh of admiration.
“The third young master of Yi Gajang, freed from madness. Impressive. Beyond the rumors. Seems like an arrogant punk relying on martial arts alone, but everything's calculated in that head of yours, huh?”
“Wasn't fishing for compliments.”
“It was impressive. You hit at midday on purpose, when our industry's guards are at their slackest, right? What's next? Send those warriors back unscathed to lower our guard, then storm Chwi Hwa Bang and swallow it whole?”
Hm. Truth was, he'd come on impulse—no grand scheme. But Yi Jinpyeong neither confirmed nor denied, letting her assume whatever.
“Anyway, confirms you're with Dongbeonhoe. No wonder they went quiet. Got orders to dig into me properly?”
“Heard Gwak Soong got royally screwed by some 'Unchaek'. Had to scope out the opponent thoroughly after that, right? But beating up a fragile woman just for spying? Shattering both ankles? That's too much.”
“Fragile woman? You don't mean yourself. And none of this happens if you hadn't lied first.”
“You already broke my left ankle before that.”
“Pot calling the kettle. You swung a dagger at me and threw needles too.”
“And you didn't even flinch from that. Talk about whining.”
She wouldn't yield an inch. Dealing with her was exhausting. Seemed like a Dongbeonhoe informant for sure. But Yi Jinpyeong tilted his head. An odd aura emanated from her—alien, yet faintly familiar, like a distant memory...
To confirm, he reached for the black veil.
“Wait.”
She spoke.
“You'll regret taking that off.”
“Why's that?”
“I've got an ugly face. Too hideous to show...”
Whatever. Rip—he tore off the black cloth. He flinched. Just as she said, a face pockmarked and scarred emerged. Skin cracked like old bark, charred black; lips shriveled dry; nose grotesquely twisted...
In a sorrowful voice, she said,
“I told you. Gotta see for yourself to be satisfied?”
“......”
“Done staring? Can I have my veil back now?”
“Impressive.”
“Not the face for admiration. Into that kinda thing?”
“Finely crafted human skin mask. Almost fooled me.”
“....!!”
“How'd I know? Just punched your face—should be swollen. Wasn't. Just ugly.”
Examining the hideous mask, Yi Jinpyeong soon found the seam where real skin met artifice and pinched it with his fingers. Caught off guard so easily, she raised her voice in urgency.
“Wait. Please, don't take this one off?”
“Now what?”
“My real face is too beautiful. You might fall at first sight. Awkward for rival factions, no?”
Too tired to respond. He peeled it off. And truly lost his words.
Beneath the grotesque mask lay a beauty that made his eyes widen. Mid-twenties, perhaps. Porcelain-smooth skin, slender brows, pert nose tip. Even her forehead, beaded with sweat, was flawless. A level of beauty rare anywhere in the Central Plains. Enough to stir guilt in Yi Jinpyeong for bruising one eye black.
Seeing him speechless, she smiled with her eyes. A sight to make even a stone-hearted man’s heart race.
“Told you. Regret it now?”
Her voice held something that shook the soul.
Yi Jinpyeong stared, then spoke with conviction.
“You. You've cultivated Ma An Seop Hon Gong.”
Her smile vanished. Face hardened.
“Ambiguous with the mask, but now it's clear. Faint demonic qi in your eyes—definite traces of soul-capturing arts. Strange. Demonic Cult remnants still around? Or is Dongbeonhoe a branch of the cult itself?”
Fear filled her eyes. She stared at him in confusion.
“Why... why isn't it working? How do you know this art...? Are you...? No, impossible. The third young master of Yi Gajang...”
She bit her lip hard. Yi Jinpyeong snorted.
“'Third young master' my ass. Want a slap? Anyway, your energy's weak—haven't trained long. Quit before it deepens. Past three seong, no saving yourself even in death. How many seong now? Sleep okay?”
Her stunning face twisted through a rainbow of emotions. The woman who'd stayed composed through shattered ankles and a ruined face was crumbling emotionally.
She cried out sharply, eyes swirling with eerie energy.
“What the hell do you know!”
Not just words. From her tongue tip shot a needle too tiny for the eye. Her final hidden ace—sudden enough to fell anyone.
But who was Yi Jinpyeong? He'd faced such tricks endlessly in his past life. He pinched it between two fingers, then smashed his left fist into her other cheek—for fairness, since one eye was already swollen.
Intense vibration through his fist. Seeing her finally out cold, he muttered,
“Just asked a question, and you go berserk? Pretty girls all got tempers...”