Chapter 68: Victory is Inevitable (2)
The proposal from the Huashan Sect leader was swiftly put into action.
The age limit for the junior disciple tournament, originally set at twenty for the Nine Great Factions' later-generation disciples, was now extended to thirty specifically for the hundred clans around Dongjeong Lake. This allowed late-generation disciples from Dongjeong Lake sects—who could register by tomorrow morning—to compete alongside the Nine Great Factions' juniors for the championship.
Following the Dongbeonhoe leader's emergency announcement, the banquet paused briefly, and the hall plunged into a chaotic buzz.
Factions with promising young experts or heirs capable of participating hurriedly dispatched messenger pigeons or servants to summon them. Sects without anyone qualifying beat their chests in regret. Those just barely over the age limit picketed the hapless Dongbeonhoe warriors, stirring up a commotion.
Of course, some showed no interest amid the frenzy, but overall, the event's excitement boiled over even hotter.
"Puhahaha!!!"
No Gae burst into booming laughter.
"What a blazing self-introduction! Who'd have thought a simple shove on the back would lead to this!"
No Gae pounded Yi Jinpyeong's back in encouragement—or so it seemed—but the force was so immense that Yi Jinpyeong had to expend considerable energy just to steady his churning insides.
The Open Faction elder standing beside No Gae also laughed heartily, cupping his fists toward Yi Jinpyeong.
"Young master Yi. Truly remarkable martial prowess and guts. Your ancestors would surely be overjoyed to witness this."
"Hmph..."
Yi Jinpyeong fell silent at the mention of his forebears. It wasn't as if they could rejoice seeing himself.
"Anyway, let's see... Who's our Open Faction sending to tomorrow's junior tournament? We can't have them getting knocked out in one hit like this guy."
"My disciple's up, but he's a hopeless case—likely to drop before even facing the young master. Bah, whatever. Master, let's go grab some dog meat. We've got mountains of catching up to do. Where the hell have you been wandering?"
"Uh... er..."
The Open Faction elder hooked No Gae's arm firmly under his own and dragged him off. No Gae could have shaken him loose easily but feigned reluctance as he was pulled away.
As No Gae vanished into the crowd, his gaze met Yi Jinpyeong's.
[I saw it well... Truly astonishing.]
[Getting surprised by this much? Anyway, keep your promise.]
[Tonight at midnight, by the willow path west of Agyangnu. Be there.]
Yi Jinpyeong let out a hollow chuckle. This wasn't some youthful lovers' tryst—what was with Agyangnu in the dead of night and some willow path?
Shivering with goosebumps, he considered suggesting a change of venue, but No Gae was already long gone.
And right on cue, another figure approached.
"Fancy meeting you like this."
A stiff expression, icy tone. A middle-aged man with eyes seething with all manner of desires—the Dongbeonhoe leader, Seo Ungak.
"Oh."
Yi Jinpyeong grinned, patting his belly.
"Thanks for the invite. Quite the treat, thanks to you."
"Hah!"
Seo Ungak's eyes flashed. Mindful of the onlookers, he refrained from striking, but Yi Jinpyeong could clearly see him grinding his teeth to suppress his rage.
"Right, I invited you. To a crumbling sect, no less. If you're lucky enough to get a seat at such a prestigious event, shouldn't you know your place and just watch quietly? Ungrateful brat, stirring up this mess?"
"No idea what the problem is. You Dongbeonhoe invited us first, and No Gae senior prodded me—quietly eating my meal—to give that intro. No one had to jump in, but they were all itching for a fight and charged ahead eagerly. Didn't that make the event even more fun? Looked like the honored guests were plenty thrilled."
"Fun? Do you know how much time and effort the Dongbeonhoe poured into this? You and those crazy old coots' impromptu stunt—do you have any idea how much it's costing us?!"
"Whoa! No Gae senior! Oh! And a Huashan elder too?"
Caught off-guard by Yi Jinpyeong's innocent act, Seo Ungak startled and glanced around wildly. But No Gae and Pung Yeon-jinin, lost in their own revelry, weren't about to approach.
Yi Jinpyeong guffawed.
"Why the frantic looking? Worried someone overheard something troublesome? Should've cultivated the habit of kinder words then, eh?"
Realizing he'd been thoroughly toyed with, Seo Ungak's face flushed crimson. He stepped closer to Yi Jinpyeong, growling low through breaths laced with liquor.
"Damn punk. Think you've survived this long 'cause you're hot shit? The moment this event ends, I could crush your Yi Gajang flat. Even counting all your warriors, you barely scrape fifty. Shall I slaughter them all and burn it down? Make sure no one in the Central Plains ever hears the name Yi Gajang again."
The mirth drained from Yi Jinpyeong's face. He replied coldly.
"One more time... Choose your words carefully. Think them over."
One step. This time, Yi Jinpyeong closed in on Seo Ungak. Now, only a fist's width separated them.
"Lately, a few tried threats like that on me. Regrettably, none are of this world anymore."
".....!"
Struggling to contain his surging fury, Seo Ungak flinched involuntarily at Yi Jinpyeong's frigid tone and sharp aura. By the time he regained his wits, he'd unwittingly retreated half a step.
'Did I just yield momentum? To this puny brat?'
Despite Yi Jinpyeong felling so many moments ago, Seo Ungak still saw him as several tiers beneath. None of the Dongjeong Lake warriors Yi Jinpyeong faced were ones the Dongbeonhoe deemed "real" threats.
Denying reality, his rage boiled anew. Murderous intent gleamed in his eyes as his hand crept toward the sword at his waist.
"Oh? A late challenger?"
Yi Jinpyeong beamed. His pipe spun nimbly between his fingers.
Seeing that smile, that pipe—Seo Ungak snapped alert. It was like a bucket of ice water over his head.
Why? Surely not fear of defeat. So he believed.
Then why the hesitation?
'Right. If I cause a scene here with my own hands...'
This was the Dongbeonhoe's home turf, but with countless attendees watching. One misstep, and the massive investment and effort into this event would go up in smoke. Luring the Nine Great Factions to flaunt influence and seize Dongjeong Lake's dominance—all for naught.
He was a rational, calculating leader. Not foolish enough to ruin everything in a moment's anger.
His hand shifted from sword to straightening his robes. Donning a smile, he cupped his fists politely toward his Dongbeonhoe guest.
"Young master Yi. I trust you'll show restraint for the remainder. Let us not forget—we're all here representing Dongjeong Lake."
Seo Ungak turned and departed. Yi Jinpyeong watched him melt into the crowd.
'Impressive patience.'
Good thing, too. Had he drawn his sword, Yi Jinpyeong would've had no choice but to lay him out.
Yi Jinpyeong didn't tolerate such things.
Though derailing the event was his goal, it was best kept within controllable bounds.
His two brothers, who'd stood tensely beside him, exhaled in relief. They'd braced for the worst if the two clashed; the strain in those moments was indescribable.
"Now... finally... a bit more banquet food..."
But respite was not to be.
As the surrounding crowd fell strangely silent, the throng parted—revealing a group of women.
Skin dazzlingly pale, figures slender and graceful, clad in vibrant martial robes of every hue. Late-generation disciples of the Nine Great Factions—the female ones.
"Oh my. You're the Yi Gajang folks? I'm Yeon Jin from Jongnam Sect."
The lead woman smiled radiantly. A beauty who stood out even from afar.
"I saw it all just now. Such outstanding martial arts. I've heard my uncles and master describe Yi Gajang's prowess many times, but seeing it firsthand was thrilling."
"If 'thrilling' is all you got from it, you must've missed something."
Yi Jinpyeong replied curtly. But Yeon Jin seemed unfazed by his rudeness. Instead, she turned to Yi Jinun, who stood awkwardly behind, and flashed a coy smile.
"We're acquainted, right?"
Yi Jinun stammered in fluster.
"Y-yeah? Us?"
"Yes. Earlier by Dongjeong Lake, when your little brother handsomely fought that Cheongsung Sect's Nam fellow. Our eyes definitely met then."
"M-me? Our eyes...?"
"Hohoho. Or not? Doesn't matter. Fates begin like this. What's your name?"
"I'm Yi Jinun, but..."
As Yi Jinun hemmed under the Jongnam disciple's bold advance, a woman from the group's center stepped forward. Her gaze never left Yi Jinpyeong.
"That pipe... It's not made of iron, is it?"
Yi Jinpyeong glanced at her. No flashy allure like Yeon Jin's, but an elegant beauty, cool yet refined. The hem of her robe bore the same emblem as Pung Yeon-jinin's: the Huashan symbol, plum blossoms blooming through the harshest winter.
"What do you think?"
The Huashan disciple smiled faintly at his retort. Quietly, like plum blossoms on snow—subtle, noble.
Onlookers agape with curiosity gawked at that lovely smile.
"I'll confirm it myself at tomorrow's tournament. Looking forward to it."
The Huashan disciple turned away. No introductions, no further questions. Her business apparently done, abruptly.
The other women, eyeing the three brothers curiously, followed her—giggling merrily, as if at some delightful joke.
Amid the departing group, Jongnam's Yeon Jin winked at Yi Jinun.
Yi Jinun wore a ghost-beset expression.
A chill prickled from somewhere; snapping to, he found Yi Jingang and Yi Jinpyeong eyeing him suspiciously.
"Heh... The bear does the tricks, but the man pockets the coin..."
Yi Jinun waved his hands frantically.
"No, I really didn't... Huh? I swear! Hey! That look!"