#10. The Third-Rate Warrior Protecting the Sect's Honor (4)
Where had things changed? In his previous life, even without him stepping up, Gye Cheolyeong had dragged him to the main banquet first. He had to show off how much superior he was as a lay disciple compared to Tae-eul Gate's true disciple.
What had caused the shift? Had it been because he'd beaten Gye Cheolyeong black and blue? Because he'd shut Seong Jutaek's trap? Would future events change like this too?
"What are you thinking about?"
As they left the lodgings, Jin Taesan spoke up with a note of concern.
"Don't let rude words wound you."
It was advice to let any words slide off his back. But would that solve everything?
"Indeed. I was pondering what kind of trap the Iron Sword Sect might have dug. That's all."
Seong Moran's face, which had been kindly all day, hardened instantly.
"Are you saying our Iron Sword Sect invites guests just to spring traps on them?"
"Do you really know nothing? Or is your acting skill higher than your martial prowess?"
"Ha, you're still nursing that massive inferiority complex toward the Iron Sword Sect, even in broad daylight?"
"Inferiority complex?"
Seong Moran's face filled with hostility.
"It's true our Iron Sword Sect sees Tae-eul Gate as a thorn in our side. But you can understand that no matter how you look at our position, right? Even so, that doesn't mean we act like street thugs in the marketplace."
"Are you sure about that?"
"...You're crossing the line."
"Let me make a prediction. During this sixtieth birthday feast, Tae-eul Gate will ultimately be dragged out by the Iron Sword Sect and humiliated in front of everyone."
"The Iron Sword Sect isn't that despicable."
"I hope you're right."
"..."
Seong Moran fell silent after that.
The hall she led them to was one of the largest. Inside, unlike the place where they'd eaten earlier, massive tables were spaced widely apart, with people scattered here and there, elegantly sipping their drinks.
"Oh! Little Sister Moran!"
The men at one table jumped up all at once, clearing space.
Seong Moran glanced dryly at the scene and said, "This is Young Master Jin Sowoon of Tae-eul Gate."
She introduced him naturally, and he returned a clasped-hands salute in greeting, but few reciprocated. Those who at least nodded were decent enough, while others ignored him entirely and kept chatting with Seong Moran.
Seong Moran headed toward the spot with two seats cleared, but Jin Sowoon split off from her and sat next to Hong Saryeon, who was beside Gye Cheolyeong.
"Why sit here when there's plenty of space elsewhere?"
"Someone has to protect Saryeon from the drunks."
"Didn't it occur to you that I might be sitting next to her to protect her?"
"If you meant to protect her, would you have called her out at this late hour?"
"You little—"
Gye Cheolyeong's face flushed purple with rage, while Hong Saryeon, sitting rigidly beside him, spoke quietly.
"Why are you here?"
"And why are you here?"
"Because if Senior Brother came... I figured you'd cause trouble. Lord Kwaehwa-dang told you to behave."
"When have I ever caused trouble?"
At his casual remark, Hong Saryeon couldn't help but chuckle softly for some reason.
"Tae-eul Gate must be quite informal between senior and junior brothers, eh?"
A man decked out in jade silk sneered. Gong Chu-sim of Mansu Merchant Group—a man he'd met in his previous life.
"We hold to strict etiquette, but there's no need for excessive formality between us."
"When etiquette slips, fools mistake it for a lack of respect."
Gong Chu-sim spoke while catching the eyes of the women around him, seeking agreement, but none met his gaze.
"We don't call it rude when father and son chat casually, nor do we call it polite just because someone rigidly follows protocol with a stranger, do we?"
"..."
As he spoke, a few women tittered with laughter.
"Moreover, I wonder if the etiquette preached by someone who can't even return a proper clasped-hands salute to a stranger can truly be called proper."
The women who'd been holding back burst into open laughter, and Gong Chu-sim's face turned beet red. The men's expressions at the table subtly shifted. They exchanged glances and began setting down their cups.
Is it starting?
The same thing had happened in his previous life. He'd just been too focused on Namgung San back then to realize what it meant.
He gave them time to ready their attack while turning to Namgung San.
The Dragon of the World-Reopening, Namgung San—eldest son of the Namgung family and a member of the Yongbong Assembly. He was one of Anhui Province's rising dragons, meaning he held the greatest sway here. Even Hyeol Rang Iron Sword Seong Mohyeon, who looked no better than a wastrel, was acting uncharacteristically subdued.
"Speaking of which, it's quite curious. I've heard the Gye-ryong Merchant Group has long been closely tied to the Iron Sword Sect, yet they ended up going with Tae-eul Gate. The halo of the 108 Peaks must be truly powerful."
"..."
Gu Yang-sa, the Jade Salt Young Master of Cheongjukpo—the one who'd picked a fight with them earlier in the day. He glanced at Seong Mohyeon before continuing.
"Truth be told, we're in the same boat. But those 108 Peaks selection criteria... they're awfully vague, aren't they? With a stellar righteous sect like the Iron Sword Sect right here in Hefei, it's absurd that Tae-eul Gate is still on the list. The Murim Alliance has a long way to go."
No sooner had Gu Yang-sa finished than the other men chimed in agreement.
"True enough. The Murim Alliance needs to wake up. How much havoc do unqualified sects wreak under the banner of the 108 Peaks?"
"Exactly."
They glanced at Seong Mohyeon with every word—clearly well-schooled by him. Seong Mohyeon, meanwhile, drank as if it had nothing to do with him.
"Tae-eul Gate is here too. Everyone, show some restraint."
Seong Moran spoke coldly with a flustered expression, but no one cared. They'd gotten Seong Mohyeon's permission already.
"Honestly, don't you feel a bit wronged too, Little Sister Moran? Even looking at all of Anhui Province, all the rising stars are flocking to the Namgung family or the Iron Sword Sect. Yet it's Tae-eul Gate that gets the easy ride to the Murim Academy. This needs to change."
"Agreed."
"How many geniuses die every year just trying to qualify for the Murim Academy?"
Hong Saryeon's face darkened further as they all nodded along.
"Let's hear Tae-eul Gate's side for once."
As Gu Yang-sa prodded, Seong Moran cut in again.
"That's enough. They're guests here."
She wasn't oblivious enough to miss that the mood here revolved around Seong Mohyeon. He wouldn't abandon decorum at his grandfather's sixtieth feast just to act like a thug, so this must have been coordinated with higher-ups. Believing her sect wasn't full of scoundrels, she'd defended him fiercely.
Yeah, no. Your sect is exactly like this.
"Moran. Stop interrupting. Isn't this a gathering for constructive discussion?"
Seong Mohyeon, who'd been pretending to be refined while drinking, furrowed his brow. Seong Moran shot back in disbelief.
"This is constructive?"
Being a woman, she'd been excluded from sect affairs big and small, so she couldn't grasp the full picture.
"Shall we hear from Tae-eul Gate?"
Hong Saryeon tried to speak at Seong Mohyeon's words but hesitated. Jin Sowoon set down his chicken and opened his mouth in her stead.
"I agree with that opinion. A pond stays clear only if fresh water keeps flowing in."
Even Namgung San, who'd been downing drinks, paused to set his cup aside.
"Oh ho. So Tae-eul Gate agrees the Iron Sword Sect in Hefei deserves a spot among the 108 Peaks."
Gu Yang-sa sneered, and Jin Sowoon immediately rifled through his mental library for info on Cheongjukpo. The Mantongbu had records on sects across the jianghu, and Cheongjukpo—with its turbulent history—had recent updates, so it didn't take long.
"Of course, assuming that fresh water is clean."
"Huh?"
"Well, take Cheongjukpo here as an example. A rising powerhouse in Anhui Province—it more than deserves the 108 Peaks. So why isn't it there?"
"Because the current 108 Peaks have been sucking up to the Murim Alliance for so long."
The men burst into laughter at Gu Yang-sa's words.
"Hardly. If the Murim Alliance were that pathetic, it'd have collapsed ages ago."
"So there's a reason Cheongjukpo isn't on the 108 Peaks... is that it?"
"The Cheongjuk Bloodbath, sixty years ago."
"..."
Those present tilted their heads, feigning ignorance. No surprise—it predated their births, and Cheongjukpo had desperately buried the rumors.
"Don't you all know? Brothers within Cheongjukpo drew blades at a private gathering."
The lively hall went deathly quiet, like ice water had been dumped over it.
"More precisely, the second son—passed over for succession—harbored evil intent, killed his elder brother, and claimed the pavilion lord's seat. Half of Cheongjukpo's warriors died in the process."
"You bastard!"
Crash!
Gu Jeong-gi, Gu Yang-sa's grandfather, had slain his brother and ascended to pavilion lord. To eliminate loose ends, he'd butchered the brother's family and followers. Ironically, Cheongjukpo had reverted to eldest-son succession afterward. This was one of their most hated scandals.
"Cheongjukpo is a fine, mighty sect. But asking me to trust my back to them in a fight against the Black Path... well. I'd rather go to the battlefield alone. Wouldn't the Murim Alliance feel queasy welcoming such blood allies?"
"Come out! You dare insult Cheongjukpo and think you'll leave alive?!"
"See? I voice an opinion, and they reach for their swords."
Gu Yang-sa's face was on the verge of exploding.
"The 108 Peaks do change over time, and the Murim Alliance doesn't let them stagnate. So if you're dissatisfied, isn't the problem not the system, but failing to see your own flaws?"
"I'll kill you!"
As Gu Yang-sa lunged, Seong Moran rose and struck his pressure point from behind. The hall descended into chaos at the sudden move.
"...What do you think you're doing? Gu Yang-sa of Cheongjukpo is a guest invited by the Iron Sword Sect. Are you insulting us?"
Seong Mohyeon spoke coldly as he regained his senses. Jin Sowoon replied in utter exasperation.
"Did Tae-eul Gate come as uninvited rabble-rousers to ruin the Iron Sword Sect's feast?"
"..."
"You forced Tae-eul Gate—who wanted nothing to do with this—here through Gye-ryong Merchant Group, just to insult us. Is that how the Iron Sword Sect treats guests?"
"What did you say?!"
Seong Mohyeon and his cohorts glared murderously, but they could do nothing. Anyone could see they'd started it, and with Namgung San—an insurmountable wall—right there, they couldn't just suppress him by force.
"...How dare you insult the Iron Sword Sect in our own home?!"
Pfft.
After a long think, Seong Mohyeon's ridiculous retort made him burst out laughing. Look at distraught Seong Moran's face.
"You punk!"
Seong Mohyeon's face ripened like a persimmon as he slammed the table. The food jumped a full inch.
"If you're going to act this low, why not just challenge us to a friendly spar? You could've proven the Iron Sword Sect's superiority over Tae-eul Gate."
When logic failed, rage took over.
"How dare you! Do you think you can spew that nonsense in the Iron Sword Sect and walk away unscathed?!"
"Ah! Or did you decide a friendly spar wouldn't suffice for the humiliation and pretext to strip us of our 108 Peaks status?"
"..."
The atmosphere spiraled into utter chaos, beyond salvage. Seong Mohyeon desperately tried to salvage it but failed; Jin Sowoon had flatly refused to play their game.
"...No matter the reason, you've shamed the Iron Sword Sect. I challenge you to a duel."
"..."
Seong Moran's expression soured. She'd caught on to his ploy.
"Hahahahahahaha!"
"..."
The contemptuous stares from the crowd turned to inexplicable fear—not a bad feeling at all. He cut off his laughter abruptly and fixed Seong Moran with a stare.
"See? I was right."
"..."
Seong Moran couldn't lift her head.
"Come tomorrow. The central training ground—when the feast peaks, the most people will be there."
"...Tch. Fine."
As he rose, Hong Saryeon followed. Gye Cheolyeong sat frozen, emphasizing he had nothing to do with them.
"By the way, even with the crowds bursting at the seams, they didn't set up a banquet in the central training ground. Guess the Iron Sword Sect foresaw bloodshed at the sixtieth feast."
"..."
All eyes turned to Seong Mohyeon like folding fans.
Namgung San didn't budge. No, he just calmly drank and watched, as if it were none of his business. Fights over the 108 Peaks were just scraps among underlings—unrelated to him. Still, his total silence was odd. For mere acquaintance, he was awfully detached.
"What on earth are you thinking?"
Hong Saryeon's face was ashen.
"Should I have just sat there and taken the abuse toward our sect lord and Tae-eul Gate?"
"But..."
"Even if I'd endured, it wouldn't have ended tonight. We'd be stuck here for days more—tomorrow, the day after—taking endless insults."
It had exploded on the third day, so this was inevitable anyway. Not his fault, but he comforted her to ease her worry.
"Don't fret. A solid beating, and it'll all be over clean."
He patted her head. She'd loved it as a child.
"...Don't."
"It was going to happen anyway."
"Don't mess up my hair..."
Come to think of it, her neatly combed hair was a bit tousled now.
"Ah, sorry about that."
Suddenly, she bowed her head, shoulders shaking.
"Huh? A-Are you crying?"
He smoothed it again, but she kept her face down.
"D-Don't cry. See? Back to normal now."
"I said don't... seriously..."
Finally, she sobbed and buried herself in his chest. His shoulder dampened quickly.
"S-Sorry."
Puberty, maybe? Hong Saryeon's mood swings were harder to predict than the Iron Sword Sect's schemes.