The Veiled Woman at the Gambling Table
Three days had passed since the friendly duel.
The clash that day had sent no small ripple through the Wulin Alliance.
The defeat of the Chivalrous Dragon, Myeongjin — and the astonishing martial prowess of Namgung Cheon. Among the warriors of the Alliance, the name Namgung Cheon had spread naturally, on its own.
But Namgung Cheon himself paid it little mind.
Reputation was not what mattered.
"Whew."
Sitting cross-legged, Namgung Cheon let out a short breath. A faint blue haze drifted out between his lips and scattered into the empty air.
He had just finished his breathing exercise and circulation of qi.
I'm not far from mastering the heart method now.
The Azure Sky Great Evolution Heart Law. It was an notoriously difficult art that most practitioners could not reach mastery of even with a lifetime of devotion.
Mixing the subtleties of demonic cultivation into the verses was the key.
A new experiment — combining the stability of an orthodox heart method with the explosive, rapid advancement unique to the Demonic Path. Thanks to it, his progress had been astonishingly fast.
But at the same time, it had given rise to a problem of its own.
Traces remain.
The path of the Demonic Path was, at its core, the forcing of achievement against the natural order, rushing what should take time. Power drawn up that quickly inevitably left behind fine, invisible scars.
Granted, this too was merely a growing pain — but these small traces interfered with perfect harmony, blocking the final stretch of the road to mastery.
I'll need to take time and grind these traces away.
In the end, it was a problem only time could solve. But the process would no doubt be tedious.
Not something I relish.
Namgung Cheon lightly clenched and unclenched his fist.
I'll leave it be for now.
Having settled his thoughts, he looked toward the firmly closed door of his chamber.
The eldest young master... seems to still be busy.
Right after the duel, Namgung Hwi had vanished alongside the commander of the Cheonuidae. In the days since, he'd shown his face only occasionally before disappearing again — clearly swamped with work.
And each time, with guilt plain on his face, Namgung Hwi made it impossible for Namgung Cheon to press him for anything.
Still.
I can't just sit holed up in here forever.
Namgung Cheon rose from his seat. Then he drew a small wooden tablet from inside his robes.
A tablet of black ebony, with the character for League carved in red. It had been given to him by Unhak after the duel.
"This tablet proves you are a guest of the League. Wherever you go in Kaifeng, you need not pay a single coin. The League will settle all expenses afterward."
A pass that could be used anywhere in Kaifeng — and in truth, as good as a banknote.
I'll make good use of this.
Tucking the tablet away, Namgung Cheon left his chamber.
As he passed down the corridor and walked toward the League's main gate, the warriors who had been clustered in small groups, chatting idly, all fell silent at once. Their gazes fixed on Namgung Cheon as if by prior agreement.
No doubt the epithet Azure Sky Sword Hero had spread thickly through the League's ranks. A few of them approached with curious looks, meaning to offer greetings, but soon turned their heads away, nonchalant.
It was the doing of Namgung Cheon's expressionless face and his chilly presence.
He absorbed the flood of stares without a flicker of concern and walked out of the League.
The moment he stepped through the main gate, the vitality of Kaifeng crashed over him like a wave.
Crowds surged like the tide, and the merchants' hawking calls mingled with the grinding of cartwheels to create an enormous roar.
Namgung Cheon slowed his steps and melted into that crowd.
It's overwhelming.
In his previous life, he had known nearby Zhengzhou well enough, but he had never once set foot in Kaifeng. He walked slowly, taking in the unfamiliar scenery.
Streets lined with splendid silk shops; an alley of medicinal herbs where the scent of rare roots hung heavy in the air; even a street where the smell of food tugged at his feet. Everywhere his footsteps carried him, life overflowed.
However much one might dislike crowds, who could truly hate something like this once in a while?
The same was true for Namgung Cheon.
Worth a look.
It was then.
"Come, come! Open those eyes wide and watch closely!"
A rowdy clamor rose from a corner. From a spot ringed by layers of onlookers, a raucous drumbeat and a coarse voice burst out. The commension tugged at Namgung Cheon's feet.
Parting the crowd and peering inside, he saw a shabby-looking man with a wispy goatee raising his voice across a leather-covered table. In his hands were three worn bamboo cups.
The shell game.
A wry smile escaped Namgung Cheon's lips.
A gamble where you placed a die or a coin under one of three cups, shuffled them quickly, and guessed where it had ended up. Simple — and precisely because it was simple, the board was riddled with tricks.
"Now, watch where this silver coin goes!"
The goateed man held up a silver coin, glittering in the sunlight. With exaggerated gestures, he dropped it into one of the bamboo cups and began shuffling them with dazzling handwork.
Tap, ta-da-dak, tap!
The crisp clatter of the cups striking one another rang out. The onlookers' eyes darted busily, chasing the movement of the cups.
"Where is it, I wonder? Left? Right? Or the middle?"
The goatee asked with a deliberately leisurely expression. People began pulling out their money and placing their bets.
"The middle! I saw it clearly!"
"What are you talking about? It's the left!"
Arguments broke out here and there. Among them were some who had already lost their money and wore hollow expressions, and others who had luckily guessed right and were cheering — though more than half of those cheering men, of course, were likely in league with the goatee.
Namgung Cheon watched the scene with his arms crossed. And then, the moment the man shuffled the cups once more — the hem of his sleeve twitched ever so slightly.
An instant no ordinary eye could ever catch.
The silver coin was already gone from under the cup, vanished without a trace into the man's sleeve.
Crude.
To Namgung Cheon's eyes, the sleight of hand seemed endlessly slow. The angle of the wrist, the faint tremor of the fingers, the hackneyed misdirection of the gaze — not a single element of it was airtight.
Watching people lose their money to such a flimsy swindle drew a bitter smile from him.
"Now, we place our bets! To whom will fortune fall!"
The goateed man lifted the cup.
Naturally, there was no coin beneath it. Groans erupted from the crowd.
"Aw, nothing again?"
"It's enough to make a ghost weep. I swear he put it right there."
The goateed man smiled slyly and nudged the hidden coin from his sleeve under a different cup. Then he raised it and shouted.
"Oh dear, here it is! Too bad, so sorry!"
A flawless con.
Nothing more to see here.
Namgung Cheon turned away. There was no reason to waste time on the games of street rabble like that.
It was then.
"Looks like fun."
A clear, lilting voice cut through the crowd. Namgung Cheon's steps stopped.
Everyone's eyes turned at once toward the owner of the voice. She was a woman whose face was wrapped in white cloth beneath a bamboo hat pulled low.
Namgung Cheon's eyes narrowed.
Because the woman had trained in martial arts — and at a fairly high level, at that.
Peak Realm? Planning to catch them cheating?
In that moment, the woman drew a banknote from her robes and set it down on the table with a light tap.
"I'll bet all of this."
When he checked the note, the goateed man's eyes went round.
"Thirty taels of silver!"
It was an enormous sum, rarely if ever seen at a back-alley gambling den like this. A smile bloomed on the goateed man's face of its own accord, and his whiskers bristled high.
"Oho, a bold one has graced us! Good, very good!"
Excited, the man picked up the silver coin. It seemed he intended to shuffle the cups even more brilliantly, more cunningly than before. He dropped the coin into a cup and moved them so fast his hands were a blur.
Tap, ta-da-dak-dak, tap!
Far more complex and quicker than before. The onlookers, forgetting even to breathe, were sucked into that mesmerizing handwork.
But Namgung Cheon's eyes could not be deceived.
It was the same this time as well. The instant the cups crossed paths, the coin vanished into the man's sleeve. No matter where she placed her bet, she could only lose. Which meant, in the end, there was only one conclusion.
She's going to catch them in the act.
There was no way a warrior who had reached the Peak Realm could fail to see through that.
The outcome was obvious.
Namgung Cheon looked at the woman. But she stood utterly still, staring intently at the goateed man's hands.
"Now! Place your bets! Where is it!"
The goateed man stopped shuffling and shouted. The woman held her silence for a moment, then slowly extended her hand. And without the slightest hesitation, she tapped the left cup.
"This one."
"Ah!"
The goateed man let out an exaggerated groan and pulled a regretful face.
"Are you sure that's the one? In my opinion..."
He cast a sidelong glance at the middle cup.
"...that one looks better to me. You've wagered a large sum, so I'll make an exception and give you the chance to change your pick. Will you switch?"
The surrounding onlookers murmured among themselves.
"There he goes again. Change it and you're guaranteed to lose."
"No, no, this time it might be real, no? Just look at his face."
But the woman did not move an inch.
"No need."
A firm voice. She tapped the left cup once more with her fingertip.
"I like it here."
The goateed man smiled. What luck. He went on.
"Very well! Don't come crying later!"
With a deliberately grave expression, he slowly brought his hand toward the cups. The onlookers swallowed hard. The man's hand closed around the cup.
And with a flourish, he lifted it.
"Ta-da!"
The moment he cried out, Namgung Cheon's pupils trembled first.
"...Huh?"
At the same time, a dumbfounded sound leaked from the goateed man's mouth. The onlookers' eyes nearly popped out of their heads.
Beneath the cup.
Something silvery-white glittered in the sunlight.
"...It's the coin!"
"She called it!"
Cheers rang out from the crowd. But Namgung Cheon's gaze had gone cold.
I saw it, clearly.
He had seen the coin go into the sleeve. So why was it under the cup?
"Well, I never! You really do see everything in this world!"
"He's done for, done for, hahaha!"
Reactions along the lines of serves him right kept bursting out around him. The woman, on the other hand, was utterly composed — as if she had known all along that it would turn out this way.
"Now, my money, please."
There was an odd lilt of laughter in her voice.
"..."
The goateed man, dazed by her words, simply stared at the silver coin. Then the woman pressed him.
"What are you doing? Hand it over."
At her urging, the man, wincing as if swallowing mustard, reluctantly emptied out all his money. The goateed man had lost thirty taels of silver in the blink of an eye.
And his misery did not end there.
"That's all for today, everyone. Off you go."
A gang of roughnecks, appearing from who knew where, surrounded the goateed man. They dragged the dumbstruck gambler away and vanished into the crowd.
As if nothing had ever happened, the gambling board was cleared away in an instant. Meanwhile, the woman who had won the great sum gathered up her money and turned away without a hint of lingering attachment.
And so everything had been settled in the space of a breath.
"..."
But Namgung Cheon still stood there, lost in thought.
What in the world was that?
He had clearly seen the goateed man palm the coin and slip it into his sleeve. Which left only one possibility. Namgung Cheon's gaze slid toward the woman as she drifted farther away.
Did she do it?
But that made no sense either. She had merely tapped the cup lightly; she had shown no other movement whatsoever.
Unless she's a master far beyond my own...
His mind churned in a tangle. He had encountered every manner of eccentric and bizarre arts the Jianghu had to offer, but never before had he seen something right before his eyes whose principle he could not fathom.
A strange sensation, as if the laws of the world had warped for an instant.
It was then.
The woman — who he had thought lost in the crowd — suddenly approached him. The gaze hidden beneath the bamboo hat was fixed precisely on Namgung Cheon.
And then.
"Since I made money, I'll buy you something delicious."
The woman spoke up abruptly in a clear, elegant voice.
"...?"
Namgung Cheon regarded her with a puzzled look. Before he could reply to the sudden remark, the woman's hand moved.
Swish—
She slowly untied the knot of the white cloth. The cloth slipped away like something borne on the wind.
And the face it revealed —
Namgung Cheon's pupils froze for an instant.
Eyes as deep and dark as ink dropped onto fresh snow; a faint flush spreading beneath them, and lips as red as if steeped in blossom water. But what seized his gaze above all was her eyes — crystal-clear and flawless, yet from their very depths a mysterious blue radiance shimmered faintly.
She was a beauty so overwhelming it stole the breath from his lungs — yet what unsettled him more than that was how familiar that face was.
...It couldn't be.
Namgung Cheon's eyes wavered. Then, quietly, she spoke.
"It's been a long time."
A beautiful smile filled Namgung Cheon's vision.
"Our youngest."
The Heavenly Demon of Namgung
Author | Baek Rihaeng
Publisher | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd.
Managing Editor | Editorial Department
Published by | Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dream Books
Address | 7F, Gwangseong Building, 28 Bongeunsa-ro 114-gil, Gangnam-gu, Seoul
ISBN | 979-11-7306-734-1
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The contents of this book may not be used in any form or by any means without the written permission of Samyang C&C Co., Ltd. — Dream Books.