Chapter 55
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 55
Chapter Title: Pretext
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The fourth lunar month, with the Start of Summer drawing near.
The drinking gathering had heated up considerably, much like the scorching sun blazing overhead.
"Gangseo and Fujian are still in quite a mess, it seems."
"Zhejiang's situation isn't looking good either."
They weren't grandly debating the major and minor affairs of the Murim world.
Having gathered from various parts of the Central Plains, they exchanged bits of information, great and small, and shared their thoughts.
In such a short time, there weren't many better common topics for sizing people up than public matters.
"I hear even Hangzhou has turned into a complete mess lately."
After the great war against the Demon Cult, the Murim world had achieved an era of orthodox dominance.
Though hailed as a time of peace and prosperity, the unification of the Central Plains by force inevitably bred resentment, as history showed with nations that had risen and fallen.
In the law-of-the-jungle world of Murim, the long peace thus far was perhaps the more curious phenomenon.
The unorthodox masters were sharpening their teeth and claws.
Beneath the surface of enduring peace, faint discord was beginning to stir.
'South of the Yangtze and the far west regions.'
The Blaze Cult of Xinjiang and the Podalrab Palace of the Western Qiang.
Though collectively called unorthodox alongside the outer Murim and black path factions, their natures were distinctly varied.
"I hear the current Iron Fortress Lord is on the moderate side, but even he's struggling to keep the black path's discontent in check."
Seo Mun-ha, surrounded by exemplary martial artists, lent an ear to the various murmurs.
"This time, the young palace lord of the North Sea..."
He could filter and listen moderately without the bias of the younger generation's righteous cries, and there were certainly intriguing tidings.
'South Barbarians and North Sea.'
Even the Sun-Moon Cult's movements were unclear; among the outer Murim, the North Sea Ice Palace was known to maintain friendly ties with the orthodox sects.
Gossip and omens weren't immediately pressing, though.
"We're running quite late, Young Clan Heir."
One of the Nangong Clan warriors whispered to Nangong Cheon-hwi.
"Understood."
Nangong Cheon-hwi signaled their timely withdrawal.
They could have used transmission arts.
Yet by showing their situation firsthand, they exuded courtesy and refinement from the very basics of procedure and form.
"Leaving already?"
U Hak-bong asked, wetting his throat with wine, a hint of regret in his voice.
"My apologies, Brother U. If you ever pass through Anhui, be sure to visit our main estate. I'll host you personally."
The beggar, cloaked in feigned simplicity, chuckled and latched on expectantly.
'Heh, the Nangong Clan seems pretty appealing too.'
No one could deny the world's best martial artist by omitting them from Murim folk's frequent chatter.
Among the orthodox and black path warriors, the Ten Supremes stood as the pinnacle.
Whether the current Murim Alliance Lord, the Sword King—who held one of the Star Heaven Ten Seats—was truly the world's best invited some debate and opinion.
But few would dispute the Nangong Clan as the world's foremost house.
Among the outer Murim and black path combined, the closest to supreme was the Nangong Clan, and leading its next generation was Nangong Cheon-hwi.
Pity we couldn't chat more.
The man who shone amid countless juniors with his title, Soaring Heaven Sword Dragon.
What do you mean?
Seo Mun-ha, who had gleaned diverse news through casual talk and transmissions alike, found this quite unexpected.
Next time we meet, may I drop the formalities?
Even amid Nangong Cheon-hwi's sudden transmission and intent, Seo Mun-ha replied calmly.
Suit yourself.
Facing away, Nangong Cheon-hwi had several Nangong clansmen waiting, including the one who had whispered earlier.
It was a pleasure meeting you.
Given their positions, they couldn't linger in private revelry forever.
And one more thing—take good care of Eun-ye.
... ?
She runs wild like a young foal, but she's good-hearted at her core.
To him, surrounded by brothers, Ha Eun-ye was like a little sister.
I've heard about her troubles. Regrettably, I can't always be by her side.
I'll keep it in mind. She's a sensible woman; she'll manage fine.
Heh, that's an amusing jest.
A faint smile crept onto Nangong Cheon-hwi's lips, tilting Ha Eun-ye's head in confusion.
My apologies.
Did she dislike jokes? To Seo Mun-ha, she seemed gentler than her prickly reputation suggested.
Don't misunderstand—my words were exaggerated. I just dislike jokers and their motives.
He had gotten the answer he wanted.
"I'll take my leave first. Brothers, ladies."
Nangong Cheon-hwi headed not upward but downward, as if exiting the hall.
In doing so, he hinted at a spark of competitive spirit, hoping to cross blades over drinks next time.
Watch out for Brother Paeng. He's not one to back down quietly.
As the group vanished from sight, Ha Eun-ye immediately grilled Seo Mun-ha.
"What did Brother Cheon-hwi say?"
"Who knows."
Seo Mun-ha silently tilted his cup.
His inscrutable nature was ever consistent.
"Young Master Seo Mun has barely said a word since earlier."
Even Dang So-so pointed out his one-sided responses.
"What's so bad? The seating?"
"Not bad."
"If you can't say outright that you like it, do thorns grow on your tongue?"
She was consistent too.
Her pallid face from yesterday's overindulgence somehow still shone.
The Tang Clan placed little weight on the gathering, but as a formal occasion, her fully adorned splendor stirred the hearts of many men.
"It's fine. Passable."
"That's not what I meant!"
It was a pity that the man seated beside her was the exception.
She didn't fancy the fawning like a vulture, but her pride chafed at the underwhelming reaction.
"Young Master Seo Mun, do people often call you oblivious?"
U Hak-bong, unable to stand it, chimed in.
"Never heard it. And you, Brother U—how long do you plan to leech off others?"
"Leech? Anyone hearing that would think I'm chasing you around, Young Master Seo Mun."
"Aren't you?"
"No! Beggars go where their feet take them—no fixed path. Free food is paradise itself. Sitting by you is mere coincidence. Coincidence!"
"Speaking of coincidences, look—Beggars' Clan folks clustered over there. Seems they're searching for someone..."
"Tch, sneaky!"
U Hak-bong shrugged and beat a light retreat.
Just as things quieted, the beggars were still hunting him.
And misfortune piled on when he couldn't flee.
"Pleased to meet you."
A youth swiftly claimed Nangong Cheon-hwi's empty seat.
"I'm Yang Su-il of the Zhongnan lay disciples, from Shanxi's Yang Manor. Greetings, ladies and sirs."
With refined features and glossy sheen, he hailed from the Yang Manor under Zhongnan.
"Ha Eun-ye."
"Baek Ri-seol."
The two greeted him reluctantly.
Targeting the women outright, it was brazen; ignoring him, Dang So-so traded glares and playful barbs with Seo Mun-ha.
"An honor to meet you. Your reputations match your beauty perfectly—or perhaps the rumors fall short."
"You're too kind."
Ha Eun-ye smiled awkwardly. Yang Su-il spoke as if oiled inside.
The Nine Dragons and Seven Peaks were symbols and idols for many juniors.
Hard to even interject amid their aura, yet he slipped in smoothly—clearly no ordinary charmer, packaging personal motives.
'Yang Manor?'
Seo Mun-ha recalled the minor Shanxi sword faction.
Steering the talk, Yang Su-il casually acknowledged the men, then pointed to Dang So-so last.
"Heavenly Poison, the young lady of the Tangs—your fame spreads even to Shaanxi and Shanxi."
"So?"
"Allow me to offer a cup."
With a flourish, Yang Su-il seated himself naturally.
"To share a table with the prides of the orthodox sects fills this Yang with boundless joy. Hahaha."
A seasoned ploy. Given the setting, they couldn't rudely rebuff his cheeky yet courteous approach.
"Might you pour one for me too?"
But his follow-through faltered.
"No thanks."
Dang So-so rejected him outright.
"We're taught not to pour for just anyone. Poison wine, maybe."
Many viewed martial artists' competitive spirits as rivalry.
Being one of three chosen should've stroked egos; at minimum, accepting a drink was proper. But he'd misjudged his mark.
"Haha, if it's from you, Young Lady Tang, who cares if it's poison."
Yang Su-il didn't back down easily.
"How about it? You seem displeased—shall we move? That side has more ambiance. I've arranged musicians and poets. Better than a block of wood."
He openly contrasted himself favorably with Seo Mun-ha.
Having eavesdropped, he now pitched a private venue; Dang So-so's brow twitched irritably as she listened.
"Wine or people shine brightest with those who appreciate their worth."
Yang Su-il kept smiling.
"You seem to have misunderstood."
But Dang So-so could spit back at a smile.
"Get lost."
"..."
"No reason to stay."
A crack fissured Yang Su-il's composure.
Her clan's insular nature limited even peer interactions; she hated this disruption of her rare easy camaraderie.
Infamous for arrogance, she saw through Yang Su-il's similar scheming.
'Knows no shame.'
Belittling her, insulting Seo Mun-ha.
Above all, undervaluing her compared to the other ladies twisted her gut.
"Young Lady Tang? That's a bit much, isn't it?"
He forced a smile, but his tone stiffened.
By now, it had escalated to pride.
"Over the top? Maybe it's your oily three-inch tongue."
Yang Su-il had ample confidence.
Yang Manor alone wielded considerable power; backed by Zhongnan, his arrogance knew no bounds.
"You find Zhongnan and my clan amusing?"
"That's for me to say. Even mocking your clan has limits..."
Ha Eun-ye had the Nangong Clan behind her.
Baek Ri-seol of the Baek Ri Clan tied to the Seo Mun Clan and Hebei Paeng; to scavengers, Dang So-so seemed the easier prey.
The men who'd chatted her up so far confirmed it.
Sss.
Of course, the Tang clan's traits played a part. Accumulated slights boiled over as Dang So-so slammed the table, unleashing poison arts.
"Since it's come to this, I must have your wine, Young Lady Tang."
"With that flashy empty shell?"
A long spear devoid of substance. At least he hadn't drawn his Zhongnan sword—some conscience there.
"Hmph, or do you lack confidence?"
Tension ignited, one spark from explosion.
"Two cups—no, at least three. Better if we pull an all-nighter."
Force without justification is violence; indiscriminate violence no better than unorthodox rabble, they said.
Yet Yang Su-il's cheap pretext-probing didn't endear him either.
"So-so."
Seo Mun-ha calmly wedged between the pair.
"Hold back. No need to bark with the dogs."
His abrupt words, like a gut punch, chilled the heated air.
Unleashing poison arts publicly would only tarnish the Tang Clan's prestige.
"Brother Yang, was it?"
Even so, tarnishing the Tang wasn't Yang Su-il's main goal.
Not even he, backed by Zhongnan and Yang Manor, could lightly antagonize the Tangs; thus, he could ignore Dang So-so's personal background and backing.
"Time's wasting—why not stop yapping and fetch your master?"
"What... what did you say?!"
"Didn't someone say? So-so wouldn't deploy poison arts in public, and if she did, you'd step in to mediate."
Dang So-so, grasping the full scheme, deflated and whipped her head around.
"...Ha, really."
As if the fool wasn't worth engaging.
"Setting up a drinking party under reconciliation's guise isn't hard—'nothing to lose,' right?"
"Y-Young Master Seo Mun, you spin tales well. Why not switch to guest performer or poet?"
Even Yang Su-il, proclaiming innocence, reeled in confusion.
Too obtuse to realize he'd been played...
Dang So-so muttered lowly.
"So, who was it?"
The one inciting the lustful fool.
By sequence, that puppet-master came first, not the insignificant Yang Su-il.
Self-defense.
I can see that...
Ha Eun-ye sighed inwardly.
Had he not intervened, she would have.
Setting aside ties and status, such insults were hard to stomach as a fellow woman.
Still, better than Dang So-so acting; yet the situation wouldn't pass quietly.
"Hm, I came to check the disturbance, but it seems Young Lady Tang has greatly misunderstood."
Ha Eun-ye's assumption of mere probing on day one missed the mark wildly.
"Brother Yang has long admired you, nothing more."
A burly man approached boldly, steps unhesitating.
"I merely offered a bit of help with good intentions, but things went awry—most regrettable. My words grew harsh too."
Hwang Bo Woo-jun, first young master of the Hwang Bo Clan.
Fully committed, he'd cleared most onlookers.
"So you're the ringleader, Young Master Hwang Bo."
Dang So-so spat coldly.
"Sorry, wrong order."
Hwang Bo Woo-jun passed her, staring straight at Seo Mun-ha.
By prior claim, Dang So-so ranked second; provoking her via the fracas targeted Seo Mun-ha squarely.
"Yeoya Hong, eh? Fine choice."
As he sat heavily opposite Seo Mun-ha, like coiling qi.
"Noisy."
Seo Mun-ha, who hadn't blocked arrivals or departures till now, spoke.
"They say it's the master that makes the beast."
Halting Hwang Bo Woo-jun.