Chapter 711: When Going Out, Maintain Your Dignity (6)

By nature, whenever a person is doing something they can’t be proud of, they look around, check for other people’s eyes, and instinctively try to slip free of those gazes.

From that angle—

If you look at the environment in which certain conspirators plot their sly schemes, you can tell how justified they feel about those schemes.

Most conspiracies took place in tightly sealed chambers, in dim spaces made murky by the Central Plains’ lighting limitations. That was the usual logic.

But here they were in a high-class inn’s upper (and best) room.

Every window that doubled as a wall was flung wide open.

Lounging and sprawling however they pleased, they were calmly talking about when they’d kill, how they’d better kill quickly, how they wanted to hurry up and get this over with and go home.

From the mindset of conspirators going about their mission, you could clearly see how confident they were.

“I hear the punks from Rowdy Den Cave are coming out tomorrow. This time we take the target down.”

At that, all eyes shifted to one spot.

“What, what are you all looking at me for. How was I supposed to know the tiger was that close by. That damnably cunning beast had slithered its body up into a tree and was watching from there.”

The man catching their gazes looked aggrieved.

Not in the sense of making excuses—this was the face of someone who genuinely believed it hadn’t been his fault.

First off, they’d had no handle on the target’s movements.

That Rowdy Den Cave was holed up in the mountains, isolated and cut off, so how were they supposed to know what plots and schemes were being hatched inside?

This so-called “training” or whatever it was, they’d only heard about it the night before—and even that barely, by casually asking the porters hauling the food supplies, “So, anything fun going on lately?” with the air of not really caring.

It wasn’t like the workers had sold them intel.

There was no way laborers like that would know any high-level information like the exact route of the event. All they knew was that their side had been busy and frazzled, that the orders had dropped to several days’ worth less than usual, and that when they’d asked why, they’d heard something like, Everyone’s going out for training, what else, and if they keep going out for training, how are we supposed to make a living. That was it.

So with no time to prepare anything else, they’d hastily positioned one man in ambush along each descent path and waited for the target to show himself.

It just so happened the target had chosen the road where this one man was lying in wait, and just when he’d finally, barely, gotten his chance—this time a tiger had gotten in the way.

Of course, the tiger had grounds to complain as well.

There’d been this special treat hiding there all day, so he’d simply been waiting for the right chance to eat it; saying the tiger had suddenly appeared was an insult that made far too little of the tiger.

Eat or be eaten—that was the natural order of beasts.

As for the part where he’d then been beaten to death by some monster in human form with monstrous strength—well, that wasn’t particularly unfair.

What had been too much was that, even though a tiger leaves its hide in death, they’d just left it there, saying it was too heavy and they had no time to go and sell it.

In any case—

“This time we make sure there are no gaps.”

The middle-aged man emphasized this in a grave tone.

It was exactly the strict, stern, serious manner of speaking that Qing’s homeland would call “official-script mode.”

“Uh, sir...? But do you think he’s really going to come out? He must know someone’s trying to kill him now.”

“Mm.”

The middle-aged man let out a groan.

If he’d known the bastards were going to come out again this quickly, he wouldn’t have taken that half-assed probing shot; he’d have prepared properly and finished it in one strike.

But with no intel on Rowdy Den Cave or Righteous-Proper Martial Academy, how were [N O V E L I G H T] they supposed to know whether the bastards stayed holed up in there or came out in the middle?

So when the chance had come, they’d tried to take it—and bad luck had ruined the job.

“Even so, we prepare just in case. You never know. There’s no way that wastrel has actually quit drink and women; he might just pop out without thinking.”

No one really looked convinced, but—

“There’s no harm in being prepared. Mm. Still, no matter how brainless he is, I can’t quite see him coming straight out to go play...”

****

“At long last, leave! I’ve waited for this day for so long! It’s just a shame it’s such a backwater. Hah, even when you have money, it’s hard to spend it.”

Said that utterly brainless bastard, the Sichuan Young Lord Mandarlo, right off the bat.

For the record, no one else in the room had asked, he was just talking to himself.

That was how much he was looking forward to leave.

At that, one young man on each side slipped into place at his left and right with little “Heh-heh” laughs.

“Heh-heh, what city in the world is there where you can’t find anywhere to have fun, am I right?”

“Exactly. Young Lord Man, that’s something you never have to worry about. And besides, when you took the entrance exam, didn’t you say you stayed at Sopyeong Pavilion? You said it wasn’t half bad, as I recall?”

“Ha, so low-class. Sopyeong Pavilion? Nosan Number-One Pavilion? Being some big man in a complete no-name hick town like Nosan County—what’s that even worth. Their food’s barely passable as food, the women are just barely at not-ugly level. But if you go to Changsha...”

And then he launched into bragging about how dazzling Changsha’s nights were, how magnificent the skyscrapers lining the lakeside were, how beautiful the courtesans there were, and so on, and so forth.

The Righteous-Proper Martial Academy cadet rooms were six-person rooms.

The other three—room head Yang Chil, and the Eomchang duo So Eumjo and Jang Bihu—watched this display with expressions that said, That bastard, there he goes again.

Mandarlo’s constant bragging—this overt behavior of I am a great man, I’ve always been someone, I’m a precious person—had been going on non-stop all this time.

Some people frowned at that attitude—but others were always going to flock to see if there was something they could gain from it.

Very roughly speaking, in the Central Plains’ primitive, caveman statistics, if you have ten people, nine will frown, and seven will cling.

If you add nine and seven out of ten and get sixteen, why is it still “out of ten”?

Because out of those, six will do both: secretly looking down on him inside while smiling “Heh-heh” and sucking up on the outside.

“Hmm. So, you, squad captain. What about you? Being squad captain is a lot of work, so how about I give you a big, generous treat this time—what do you say?”

“Mm.”

Yang Chil was a little tempted.

Up until now, he hadn’t known whether this brat was actually someone important, or if it was just the standard kind of bragging you heard in places like this, where you had no way to verify whether anything was true.

But now, with leave actually in front of them, the man was talking about paying for everything from the first night’s dinner to the morning of the third day—eating, playing, drinking, even courtesans included.

Honestly, as a man, it was an offer that was hard not to be tempted by.

But there is no happiness in the world without a price.

In other words, there’s no such thing as free.

When he looked at the two guys on either side of that dog-bone—this had become Mandarlo’s official nickname now—panting to lick his boots, this clearly looked like an invitation to become part of his flunky pack.

“Ahem. I appreciate the thought, but I plan to stay at the Academy and train this time. I’m already worried I’m not enough as squad captain as it is, so even if I’d like to go in spirit, I can’t bring myself to do it.”

A fairly gentle refusal.

Mandarlo snorted.

“Whatever, if you don’t want to, don’t. Suit yourself. What about you two?”

Jang Bihu waved a hand.

As the former eldest son of his region’s top unorthodox house, it wasn’t as if he was starving for an outing of wine and women.

Training came first; he also planned to stay and not apply for leave.

And So Eumjo, gritting his teeth and refusing to fall behind his enemy, likewise decided to stay.

“Well, men with nothing going for them at least have to put in effort. Do your best. This great one is going to use the chance to cut loose.”

Mandarlo really had a lovely way of putting things.

Still, it wasn’t as if they were avoiding leave itself just because they didn’t want to drink with Mandarlo.

He was annoying, but that was all. Not enough to justify taking a loss to avoid him.

In the first place, only about thirty percent of the cadets had applied for leave.

The ones who’d joined Righteous-Proper Martial Academy were, by their nature, people full of passion for martial arts and orthodox paths.

Even for a three-day leave, you set out in the morning and only reached Nosan County late in the afternoon, then you rested the next day, and on the final morning you set out again and got back late in the afternoon.

Given that schedule, a lot of them preferred to train instead.

On top of that, if you vanished on the very first leave, and everyone branded you as Oh, that guy’s the one who just ditches class, what then?

Or the instructor might feel the usual disappointment again, and they were wary of that as well.

And above all—

When the number of trainees dropped, the amount of time the instructor and assistants could spend on each individual naturally went up.

If they stayed and trained now, they might get personal instruction, and on top of that they’d have a chance to make an impression as one of the hardworking students.

And so, on the day of leave—

The ones who’d applied for leave bolted out right after roll call, busy as if the world were ending—

Given it took three shichen just to get down the mountain, they really did have to rush—

And the cadets who’d stayed gathered in Sword Hall with burning enthusiasm. Except—

“Oho! To have such passion even on a rest day—your mindset is already fully worthy of swordsmen!”

There was no sign of the Disappointment Specialist Instructor—only Assistant Namgung and assistant-in-training Sword Jade Girl swinging wooden swords.

“Ah, Sword-Friend, you mean Instructor Ximen? She went out on leave.”

The ones who stayed should have first checked whether the instructor was staying at the Academy.

A leave period was a holiday; even if you stayed, it was a rest day.

From the learner’s side, they wanted to learn and master even a little more, but from the teacher’s side, what was that if not asking them to work on their days off?

Showing up to work voluntarily on your day off?

That was absolutely not what you called diligent.

It was either madness, or something you had to describe as extreme derangement—a sign of some kind of mental abnormality or a sick soul.

Of course, even so, there were still two assistants staying.

Namgung Sinjae and Sword Jade Girl were both fanatics who were mad about training.

The rest of the instructor corps were light-footedly descending the mountain.

“Heh-heh, an outing for the first time in ages. I’m going to hit every restaurant there is.”

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Dugang Liquor, I’m coming for you. Bofeng Liquor, I’m coming for you. Songha Grain Liquor, I’m coming for you. Double-Bridge Liquor, I’m coming for you. I’m seriously coming for all of you.

Tomorrow will be the day every last white spirit in Nosan County goes extinct.

The Academy food was tasty enough, but the ingredients and menus rotated inside a fixed frame.

The limitations of mass-feeding, you might say.

And, of course, the Academy was dry.

If an instructor showed up reeking of alcohol and started acting drunk, what kind of disaster would that be?

Though from Qing’s perspective, who was physically incapable of ever getting drunk, this was a slightly unfair measure.

Walking down the mountain with Moyong Juhee and Seol Iri at her left and right, Qing’s steps were exceptionally buoyant.

No one in the party was anything less than a high master by Central Plains standards, so the descent was over in a flash; they practically flew down in an hour and a half, double speed.

Their destination was Sopyeong Pavilion, Nosan County’s number-one inn, number-one tavern, and number-one restaurant rolled into one.

In a small city with few tourists, the top inn naturally combined all three roles into one Trinity; no sooner had they strode in with imposing presence than the serving boy came bounding out to greet them.

“Will it be six honored guests?”

“Yes. Let’s see—do you have anything at the top? Preferably facing the lake.”

“Oh my, of course, of course. Normally that seat is hardly ever empty, but it looks like Heaven had reserved it for our honored guests today. Heh-heh, right this way.”

If you were the top inn, you had the right to stick the city’s foremost famous sight into your own name.

Nosan County’s famous sight was the lake to its west, Little Peace Lake.

A top-floor seat in the Number-One Inn, and one that looked out over the lake at that, meant these guests were very big fish indeed.

So the serving boy’s waist had no choice but to bend in half and his delighted “Oh my, oh my”s just flowed out on their own.

There were six in the party.

Qing, and Seol Iri, who by now naturally glued herself to any road Qing traveled, and Moyong Juhee, and even Sima Chunbong, whom Qing had grabbed and kidnapped along.

It was an astonishing gathering that included fully four of the six top beauties of the orthodox martial world.

And Peng Daesan.

Qing had invited Peng Choryeo too, but she’d shoved her younger brother Peng Daesan forward, saying, I’m fine, take my kid brother instead.

And on top of that, there was one more.

“Here, here—today, Changbin gets the top seat. Come on, this one. This is Changbin’s special seat.”

“Uh, I, I’d rather sit next to Brother Peng, actually...”

“Oh-ho. What, you don’t want to sit next to me? Or is it what, you don’t want to sit next to Lady Seol here? Which is it? Say it straight.”

“No, it’s not like that, um, in this world things aren’t just ‘like’ and ‘dislike’—”

“There’s no gray in this world. Pick one—like or dislike. Mm, if you truly can’t stand it, then I suppose there’s nothing I can do. If sitting next to me ruins the taste of your drink so badly you just can’t bear it, I’ll just have to switch seats. It is hard, having to sit next to someone you can’t stand the sight of. Fine, sit next to San then, and who’s sitting on that side? Choose. Which one of us would you least like to have next to you? Who do you hate the most?”

“This seat really is very nice...”

Problem member Changbin was on a bed of nails again today.

That made five.

In fact, Qing had invited everyone.

With her personality, there was no way she wouldn’t.

She’d even stopped by the Director to ask if he’d like to come down for a drink during the holiday; how dear and admirable must that have seemed to Director Dagger-Sword Lord Yu Seonyeop, seeing this bright junior who could have been his granddaughter.

She’d come all this way just to invite him with her own mouth—how could she be so charming? Young people these days were more likely to whisper among themselves, afraid someone might actually accept if they offered a token invitation, and just sneak around in their own little cliques.

It was the moment the Old-Men Slaughterer added another achievement to her record.

Meanwhile, Fist Hall’s Yu Uga and Jegal Ihyeon had stayed behind, saying they’d use the holiday to work on the muscle training they’d been putting off.

Qing had readily accepted that.

Well, once you were Fist Hall, there was nothing to be done. If you didn’t want to die, you had to train your body, didn’t you.

And so—banquet, begin!