What Are You Gonna Do About It? (1)
Anhwi Province's city gates had been flung wide open for days now. Normally, the lines were short or inspections wrapped up quickly even when crowded, but today six queues stretched out endlessly with people packed in tight.
Inspections moved swiftly, yet the lines didn't shrink—they only grew longer.
The scene inside the gates was no different. Inns overflowed, and folks camping out in the open dotted the streets.
Then the murmurs started rippling through the crowd.
"They're here!!!"
"Worth the wait!!!"
These people had hunkered down here for days, camping out like this, all for one reason: today was the final day to register for the Sawangjeon preliminaries.
A group of tall, striking figures strode past, exuding an air of refined nobility that screamed old prestige.
The Namgung family's main gate stood equally wide, though with just five lines snaking out front. The difference? Each queue had only a single gatekeeper assigned.
The apparent leader of the recent group scowled at the sight.
Even for the Namgung, isn't this a bit much? Treating us like dirt at the door.
These were members of the Jeomcheong Faction, one of the Nine Great Sects and One Gang.
"Where are you folks from?" the gatekeeper asked when their turn came.
Jeomcheong Faction elder Yi Junghyeok replied, his discomfort plain.
"From Jeomcheong Faction."
"Long journey. Got your invitation?"
"Right here."
The gatekeeper wasn't rude or overly friendly—just perfunctorily adequate. And that somehow grated.
"All checked. Head inside, and someone'll guide you to lodging."
Yi Junghyeok stared, as if expecting more. The gatekeeper raised a brow.
"Something on your mind?"
Nothing worth voicing. But treatment like this? It'd been ages. He was just stunned.
Then fresh commotion erupted behind them, louder than before.
Yi Junghyeok whipped around. A massive yellow dragon flag fluttered into view.
Isn't that the imperial emblem?!
His body tensed instinctively. Even a great sect like theirs paled next to the palace.
So they're here to spectate Sawangjeon too. Who, though?
Murim and the imperial court upheld a non-aggression pact. But Sawangjeon was Murim's grand festival every five years. Peace had reigned for ages, with occasional exchanges between court and sects. Imperial visitors weren't odd—especially here in Namgung territory. If anything, the court should tread lightly.
The gatekeeper greeted the approaching group with a bow.
"Long time no see, Governor. Those your new recruits trailing behind?"
Governor? That guy's the Governor?
Yi Junghyeok reeled inwardly but kept cool on the surface. Head of the Fifth Army Governor's Office—equivalent to leading five of the Nine Great Sects and One Gang.
The Governor was surprisingly young.
"Haha! Good to see you. But you, manning the gate? Namgung must be swamped."
They chatted like old pals, easy and familiar.
"I'm nobody special. First impressions matter for guests from afar. Gotta show basic courtesy to VIPs."
"As expected from the Tianxia First Family! I'll tell His Majesty myself!"
"No need. Come in. Palace folk might feel awkward bunking with Murim types, so we've got separate digs."
"Ever grateful for the thoughtfulness."
The imperial entourage swept inside. Yi Junghyeok swallowed hard. Imagining these kids growing up to wield real power made his legs shake.
The gatekeeper sidled over casually.
"Sorry about that. Didn't mean to overlap court and Murim schedules, but those folks don't listen... Surprised you, huh?"
Yi Junghyeok's gaze slid to him slowly.
Who the hell is this guy, talking so casually to the Fifth Army Governor?
Gathering courage, he asked, "Any title I should know?"
"What, your sect leader didn't mention me?"
Sect leader?
"You know our sect leader?"
"Haha! Know him? Great guy, full of fire. Still remember it clear as day."
Yi Junghyeok nodded. Their sect leader was infamous for his hot-blooded ways.
But one oddity nagged about this Sawangjeon.
Perfectly healthy guy wakes up with gut trouble and bails? Healer couldn't even diagnose it.
So Yi Junghyeok, the mountain hermit who'd stuck to training, was representing them instead.
"How's your sect leader?"
"Fine. Gut aside."
"Ah... Still bothering him from back then, huh."
"From back when?"
"Nothing major. He kicked up a fuss, so we just had a friendly chat with our fists."
A memory flashed: five years back, Jeomcheong's eternal shame.
It started as typical rivalry trash-talk at a Murim gathering. A passing Namgung warrior mediated, and they parted peacefully.
If only it'd ended there.
Jeomcheong saw the mediation as biased. Their sect leader griped to the warrior, still fuming, then challenged him to a clean spar to vent—purely self-serving.
The warrior agreed without fuss.
That day, their leader got beaten dog-summer style, knocked out cold. In front of everyone.
A perfect arc: setup, buildup, crisis, climax, resolution. Namgung-style ending, naturally.
"Too bad he's still suffering from those wounds. Can't have that. I'll get a Hwandan from Divine Healer Yi—no, from Lady Yaeseon. Gut pain, right? Her Hwandan'll fix it right up. Straight fire, seriously."
Yi Junghyeok remembered who this was. Smiling now, but...
One wrong word, and he'll smash my head right here.
He dropped his eyes, answered in monosyllables, desperate to escape.
"Th-then I'll head in. Taking too long."
"Whoops! Got carried away chatting. Can't hold up honored guests. In you go!"
"Th-thanks."
Yi Junghyeok and his disciples bolted inside, following another Namgung warrior's lead without looking back.
Glancing over his shoulder while hurrying, Yi Junghyeok marveled.
Worthily Namgung...
Just a gatekeeper, yet top brass of the Jeomrimdan—one of Namgung's five outer courtyards—and peak power player. One of ten elders. Nicknamed Mad Sword for flipping out and half-killing foes till he calmed: Mad Sword Namgung Du.
Then...!
"One question?" Yi Junghyeok asked the guide politely.
"Shoot."
"Those other folks at the gate... all of them...?"
He trailed off, scared to finish.
The guide grinned, getting it.
"Yep, all four are elders. Family head stationed them here to handle any nonsense quietly."
"Ah... right..."
Then a bellow exploded from the gate.
"You bastards! Know who I am, treating me like this!!!"
Oh no, don't...
"Some punk gatekeeper telling me to line up!!!"
Really don't—the Governor waited in line...
For real!!!
"Cutting in, eh? You the Heavenly Demon?"
"I'm not the Hea-Heavenly Demon, but...! How dare you tell me to queue!"
"Then the Emperor?"
"N-not the Emperor either, but... I'm actually—"
Then it hit: overwhelming pressure sweeping the area, reaching even Yi Junghyeok far inside.
My disciples!
Fearing internal injuries to his precious prelim entrants, he surged qi—
But someone beat him: the "ordinary" warrior who'd just chatted with him, now blocking ahead.
Damn...
At least my level, maybe higher.
Yi Junghyeok belatedly countered the incoming aura from the gate.
The warrior scratched his head at him with a grin.
"Sorry. Must've crossed Elder Namgung Cheon."
Mugwang! Now called Thunder Lord, but Yi Junghyeok, fresh from mountain seclusion, didn't know yet.
Flash!
Lightning crashed at the gate.
"Neither Heavenly Demon nor Emperor, yet yapping big?"
The warrior chuckled at Yi Junghyeok.
"Haha! Let's go. No biggie. Happens every Sawangjeon—annual tradition."
"R-right."
Yi Junghyeok wanted to pat himself on the back for holding it together earlier. One step further, and it'd be him and his disciples charred and sprawled.
Then a weird young man caught his eye.
"Whoa! Lightning Grandpa! For real!!!"
The youth barreled toward the frozen gate—atmosphere like North Sea ice crystals—fearless.
He hauled up the still-sparking, untouchable guy, asking if he was okay.
Who the hell...
"Told you not to zap randomly!!! People get scared!"
"But he started it!"
"Again with excuses! Keep it up, and no more hanging with Mustache Grandpa! Who picks a fight with Lightning Grandpa's face anyway? Looks like a bandit's mug."
"I was handsome in my youth, y'know...!"
"Hey! More nonsense!"
"......"
Yi Junghyeok figured the kid was toast soon.
But Elder Namgung Cheon just took the scolding from the young punk. No retaliation.
The youth didn't stop, barking at the other elders too.
"And you, Iron Sword Grandpa, Silent Sword Grandpa—stop him when you're right there!"
"Who'd stop that guy..."
"Why me, standing idle..."
"Hey! Banning Daegalbak Uncles from spars!"
"Ngh..."
"Ngh..."
The guide, eyes fixed ahead, smiled warmly.
"Heartwarming, right? Feels like Namgung's finally a place where people live."
Were goblins there before?
"Who's that kid? Yelling at Namgung elders like that..."
"Ah~~ First time for you, Elder Yi Junghyeok. That's Namgung Daeso, the family's youngest young master."
The charred guy stirred then. Namgung Daeso beamed mountain-wide.
"Awake? Customer~! Persuasion fee: one gold nyang. Pay up, no time."
The zapped man, groggy and clueless, yanked gold from his pouch anyway.
He knew one thing: cling to this lifeline, whatever.
"H-here."
"Heehee, good guy. Our gramps lack patience sometimes. All good now—head in."
He peeked at Namgung Cheon, eyes terrified.
"C-can I really...?"
"Yeah. Lightning Grandpa, apologize quick!"
"Do I have to?"
"Hey!"
"Ngh... Sorry."
"N-no, it's fine."
Not expecting a real apology, the man gawked blankly, then followed another guide inside.
I tucked the gold nyang into my pouch. Already a hefty pile inside.
This racks up faster than I thought?
350 nyang to go.