A Guide Fell Right into My Lap
"So anyway, you managed to stay safe and sound all this time... And how have you been faring?"
"I have been..."
I had brought Jegal Baekhwa over for a visit, and the two of us were trading news — how life had treated each of us of late, that sort of catch-up.
"As for me, it has been much the same as ever — my days spent studying formations and training in the martial arts."
She was like a small white rabbit, and the soft, unhurried lilt of her voice was so endearing that I found myself listening with a contented smile — until...
"Oh, come to think of it. I heard a rather strange rumor down in Hubei..."
I asked her about that cursed piece of gossip I'd picked up from the Mount Hua Daoists, and—
"Ah... so you heard that rumor too, my lord. You see, how it came about was..."
Still cradling her teacup in both hands, Baekhwa began to speak with careful deliberation.
"Rumors, you see, are such that the more falsehood clings to them, the more they swell with it — like a snowball rolled down a hillside, growing fatter on nothing but lies..."
"Right. I understand how a story gets garbled passing from mouth to mouth... But when I fought the Demon Lord, why, of all things... ahem."
"Do you mean the rumor that you ran a honey trap on him and bedded him to death, my lord?"
"Yes! That one! Who the hell first opened their mouth with a story that absurd?"
Without my noticing, emotion had crept into my voice, and it rose a little.
Droop—
Jegal Baekhwa hung her head, wearing the expression of someone with no idea what to do with herself, and said to me,
"Now you're hearing such outrageous things on my account, my lord. Truly..."
"No, no, I'm not blaming you..."
Tears may be a woman's weapon, but somehow, every single time we met, she seemed bound and determined to shed at least one — I waved my hands, warding her off, and said,
"All I want to know is who first spat out that cock-and-bull rumor. And who first pinned me with Poison Flower — a nickname that isn't funny in the slightest."
"Ah... if that is what you're after."
"Yes! That's all I need to know."
"I am told the nickname came from Haomun. And the rumor, I am told, was spread by them as well — it seems they decided that bestowing a nickname required a proper backstory to go with it."
Cra-ack—
Perhaps the power of one's blood truly was a mighty thing. As a slow burn crept up through me, I clenched the teacup in my hand, and — barely holding down the fury churning in my gut — quietly ground out in a low voice,
"Haomun, you sons of bitches..."
The Central Plains had always loved embellishing a story to twice or thrice its size, but spreading a fabricated backstory just so a nickname would stick — what manner of lunatic's head had that crawled out of?
I was grinding my teeth and spitting curses when—
"...those lunatics ought to be torn out by the root—"
"Which is why I borrowed the Jegal Clan's strength and crushed the Haomun — the ones who had dared to drag your good name below that of a common earthworm, my lord."
"Torn out...? Wait — what did you say?"
"Pardon? Ah... we launched a surprise raid on the Haomun branch in Hubei and captured nearly every man who counted as a real power there. The branch chief, the only one who managed to flee, is currently being pursued."
"You wiped the Haomun's Hubei branch off the map?"
"Yes. Most of our intelligence comes through the Beggar's Sect anyway, and while the Haomun and our fortress are officially on friendly terms, they are unorthodox rabble at their core — so leaving even their rank and file untouched would hardly cause a problem..."
Having said that, Jegal Baekhwa's cheeks flooded scarlet, and she covered her face as if overcome with embarrassment, murmuring,
"A-and... if it is for your sake, my lord, then something on this scale is hardly..."
Having my revenge carried out by proxy did leave me feeling oddly hollow, but still — when I heard that she had blasted the Haomun, unorthodox scum or not, clean out of Hubei for peddling information...
Haah... well, good is good, I suppose. Yes... if I'd stormed all the way to Hubei vowing to catch them myself and come up empty, that would've been an even worse headache. Honestly, this works out better...
I let out a helpless laugh and patted Baekhwa on the head.
"Thank you. Truly. Anyway — once you catch that branch chief, make sure you send him to the Dang Clan."
"Yesss..."
Baekhwa sat there, her face dyed as red as a ripe persimmon, both hands folded neatly on her knees... and I was still stroking her hair when—
BANG—
"Young Master! I heard a strange rumor was spreading here as well, so I came to... re...port it?"
Dang Giyeong flung the door open hard enough to tear it from its hinges and stormed into the room — only to falter mid-report at the heartwarming scene of head-patting before him, a question mark dangling from the end of his sentence.
"Anyway, so there I was, combing through the market stalls, you see..."
Somewhere along the way the man had settled himself into our company as though it were the most natural thing in the world, laying out his bundle of stories; Baekhwa was glaring daggers through him — the murderous kind — but...
"Dushik. Read the room."
"Hm? What was that? Well, regardless, that isn't the important part..."
Whether his instincts were too sharp or hopelessly too dull, no one could say — the damned man simply kept plowing through his own script.
My fiancée was pulling a face on the verge of tears, robbed of our first stretch of time alone together in ages — and to the cursed wretch who had ruined it, I said, low and quiet:
"Dushik. Give me the TL;DR."
Naturally, that earned me a look of profound wounded pride from Dang Giyeong, but—
"Spare me those useless face-acting routines — they've never worked on me once. Just make it short and simple."
Well. What could I do? I could hardly place the adorable Baekhwa, whom I hadn't seen in an age, on the same footing as that cursed creature I saw every single day of my life.
Under my continued prodding, he gathered his words and tried again.
"Phew... It seems they've given you a nickname in Hebei, Young Master..."
"A nickname?"
"The nickname is... Serpent-Scorpion."
"What?"
While Dang Muyeong sat with his brain thoroughly blue-screened at the arrival of yet another nickname, the Blade King was warmly welcoming a face he had not seen in a long while.
"Jun, my boy. So your closed-door training is finally done?"
"Yes. I did not attain what I had set out to achieve, but I believe I found a thread to follow."
"Good. You've worked hard."
The Blade King — Paeng Juhon — had, curiously enough, spent his life among men built like siege engines; the Paeng Clan was nothing but human boulders. And because the clan's Young Clan Head alone happened to be as lean as himself, he had taken to teaching the boy directly, and often. Now, watching Paeng Jun — who had absorbed those lessons well and now stood with the Transcendent Realm within arm's reach — with quiet fondness, he carried on.
"By the by, I laid eyes on the young clan heads of the Namgung and Dang Clans today. They're both quite the handful, I must say."
"The Dang Clan's Young Clan Head... you mean..."
"The Clan Head's youngest son."
Hearing that name — one he felt he hadn't heard in an eternity — come from the lips of the man he respected most in this world, Paeng Jun asked, his face full of bewilderment,
"Do you mean Dang Muyeong?"
"Yes, that child. That boy took me by surprise in more ways than one."
This was the boy who, measured against his elder brother and sister, had even been written off as a near-failure — and he had astonished the Blade King? As Paeng Jun's face stayed creased in disbelief,
"Hahaha... That's an 'I don't believe a word of it' face if I've ever seen one. Then go and spar with the boy. I suspect you'll learn a great deal."
He couldn't make head or tail of it, but these were the Blade King's words — so he bobbed his head a couple of times and accepted.
After a little more light conversation, Paeng Jun set out for wherever Dang Muyeong was lodging, bent on settling his doubts...
"Oh dear... Young Master, how can you speak of going somewhere alone when you don't even know the way!"
"Then guide me yourself!"
"It is my first time in Hebei as well! How would I know the roads?"
"Then get out of my way. I'll ask around and find it myself."
"You said this wasn't even Haomun's doing this time — why on earth are you marching off to Haomun!"
"Because if I walk in and ask, someone will know who coined that lunatic nickname, won't they? I keep telling you — I'm only going for a little chat."
What met his eyes: a Dang Muyeong noticeably taller and broader than the last time they'd met; a Dang Clan warrior dangling off his trouser cuff for dear life; and the Jegal Clan's young lady fretting anxiously at the side.
He couldn't begin to fathom what those people thought they were doing, but for the sake of the purpose that had brought him here, he stepped up to Dang Muyeong...
"Muyeong. It's been a while. Nearly four years, is it?"
Confronted with a total stranger feigning familiarity out of nowhere, I tilted my head and asked,
"Who?"
"Who...? You don't remember my face?"
"Young Master, this is the Young Clan Head of the Paeng Clan."
That came from Dushik, who was pulling at my trouser leg hard enough to peel it right off me.
"Oh...! Dear me, how terribly embarrassing. You see, my memory hasn't been quite whole lately."
Only then did I stick out my hand in greeting.
He clasped it, naturally, with a distinctly sour look on his face.
"So what was your name again?"
At my brazen question he went speechless for a moment — and only once he had recovered his composure did he manage his introduction.
"My name is Paeng Jun, but..."
"Ah! So you're the older brother of that fellow from the inn back then. Well — pleased to meet you."
"R...right. Likewise."
"By the way — the Young Clan Head of the Paeng Clan would know Hebei well, wouldn't he?"
"Naturally I know it well... but why do you ask, all of a sudden...?"
Paeng Jun stood there, blinking like a dumbstruck ox...
Paying him no mind, I pressed on with what I'd come to say.
"In that case, be a good fellow and guide me to Haomun."
"Haomun? Why in the world would you seek out Haomun?"
"Well... there are circumstances, but explaining them all would take far too long. Just guide me there, kindly."
"Honestly... Young Master, why is it your brain only seems to run smoothly at times like this?"
"You — shut your mouth."
"Yessir..."
Paeng Jun, who had been floundering for a moment, quickly gathered his wits and said,
"The Blade King sent me, actually — bade me come have a spar with you..."
"Ah. I'll do that the moment I'm back from Haomun. Guide first, please."
"You've changed a great deal since we last met, haven't you...?"
"So? Will you guide me, or won't you?"
At Dang Muyeong's ever-shortening replies, Paeng Jun let his displeasure show...
"Then how about this: best me in a spar, and I shall escort you to Haomun with the utmost courtesy."
I let out a laugh of pure incredulity, sweeping my hair back.
"Hoh... You're the one asking for it."
I said this to Dushik, who still had my trouser cuff in a death grip, and to Baekhwa, who was watching me with worry plain on her face.
"Give me some room. This will be over quickly."
"Oho... A fight, is it? Then allow me to stand as referee."
Who knew how long she'd been there — Namgung Han had materialized behind us at some point, flashing a wide grin as she appointed herself judge.
Crack-crack-crack—
Rolling the stiffness out of my neck, I told her,
"Perfect timing, then. Give us the signal, sis."
With the whole affair devolving into a three-ring circus, Paeng Jun made no attempt to disguise his irritation as he slowly drew his saber...
"I'll even yield you the first three exchanges — go on, try anything you like, our dear little Jun."
I flashed him my sweetest smile, needling him for all I was worth.
"Then we begin when the sword falls."
A breath later, Namgung Han's upraised blade dropped to the earth.
Shwaaaaaa—
Paeng Jun's saber came screaming toward me.