Chapter 854: The Way of the Sail Swordsman (1)

“Will you really be okay? You’re really just going to let them go like that?”

“Because you saved our lives, Benefactor, my little brother and I are alive. And now that I know they suffered too... I’ve put away my resentment. That’s enough.”

“Oh, not bad—no, that’s pretty damn grown-up. They say frustration raises a man, and look at you. You’re a full-fledged man now, aren’t you?”

At that, Jong Munun looked off into the distance with an embarrassed air, and then a question occurred to him.

“...But is there really a saying like that? My learning is still shallow, so it’s embarrassing to admit, but... which sage said it?”

“Huh? You don’t know? Cao Zilian. Cao Hong. Cao Cao’s little brother.”

Jong Munun tilted his head... then tilted it again.

Romance of the Three Kingdoms was required cultural literacy for people of the Central Plains, one of the few legal forms of entertainment, the kind of hobby that got praised as “admirable” because even reading it “for fun” still counted as reading.

Of course Jong Munun had read it more than once.

But no matter how he thought about it, had there ever been a line like that?

And besides—Cao Hong wasn’t even Cao Cao’s little brother!

“Then what are you going to do from here? If you gave up inheriting the merchant house, do you have somewhere you can take your little brother?”

“My mother’s family is in Dali County, so I plan to go there. But before that, Benefactor... there’s something I’d like to ask, if I may.”

“Hm? What is it?”

“Uh... if you were to take a disciple...”

It was something he forced out while watching her face.

Well, kids that age couldn’t escape the appeal of swordfights, and after seeing this master, of course the urge to become her disciple would be burning like a chimney.

“Hm. I’m sorry, but... because of our order’s nature, I can’t take boys as disciples. Our sect is for women only. Men are forbidden.”

Strictly speaking, Qing was an external disciple of the Priestess Order, so taking a boy as a disciple wouldn’t actually be a problem.

But after she’d already taken every last bit of “elder” treatment the Priestess Order could offer, she couldn’t exactly turn around and go, It’s fine because I’m just an {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} external disciple, only when it suited her.

“Ah...”

Jong Munun’s shoulders drooped a little.

It was right then.

“E-excuse me, Hero... if you have time, would you care for a cup of tea?”

It sounded like a man’s clumsy attempt at a move, but the particular slickness in his voice was oddly distant from any real lustful intent.

Qing recognized him and responded.

“Ah. Prefectural Magistrate Jihyeon. Unfortunately, nothing good comes from government and the martial world being close, so this young lady thinks it’s best to take her leave now.”

“But your insight is excellent, Hero, and your chivalry towers to the heavens. Even if you are of the martial world, surely during your travels you have seen the hardships of common folk. If you tell me, I, Mo, will wash my ears and listen with utmost care.”

Wash my ears—a phrase meaning he would listen with complete focus and etch it into his mind.

“Prefectural Magistrate Jihyeon is already lending his ear to the people, and his judgment is righteous and fair, so I don’t think this young lady needs to add anything further.”

Jihyeon’s face bloomed wide.

To an outsider, it would look less like he’d been refused and more like his little maneuver had succeeded.

Because what the Royal Censor had just said amounted to: I watched. I’m satisfied. And in truth, Jihyeon feared the sovereign far more than he feared any petty lawsuit like this.

“And you. Ahem—at your young age, taking care of even your little brother... your brotherly love is truly beautiful beyond measure. If you have nowhere else to go, come to the magistrate’s office. Even if the government holds the merchant house, there isn’t some separate person assigned to manage it—so we do still need someone to take charge.”

“Oh. There’s a way like that?”

Managing a merchant house you’d renounced inheriting.

Sure, with the government as the “owner,” it would feel like some sort of professional manager arrangement—but still, it was better than nothing.

And then, on top of that—

“And even aside from that, I’ll put in a word on your behalf, so take an appropriate amount of assets with you. How could I send you out into this harsh world empty-handed?”

In other words—take a proper stake with you.

Qing was impressed.

For an official, he had a surprising amount of human warmth.

This was the crisis-management skill of a high-ranking Central Plains official.

There was nothing to lose by taking care of the child the Royal Censor had saved—only potential benefit.

Not missing even the fine, petty details... that was probably the secret to how he’d managed to climb all the way up to Prefectural Magistrate Jihyeon.

“Hehe—no, haha, Hero. If you ever change your mind and wish to share your esteemed opinions, please come find me anytime, without the slightest hesitation. I’ll take my leave.”

With that, after planting his face in her memory, Jihyeon withdrew.

“Hm. Still... we should take some money.”

“I gave up the inheritance, so—”

“Hey. That won’t do. Is that the kind of thing you decide with—whatever it is—feelings? resolve? Anyway, not like that. Do you know how miserable a person becomes without money? You have to earn money when you can, got it?”

So they went back to the office and gathered a few drafts, and since it was a merchant’s office, when she opened a drawer, silver ingots appeared.

Even if they were going to rely on the maternal family, they still needed something to bring—or at least emergency cash.

After scooping up money in rough amounts, Qing gathered the small one—Jong Munyeok—who had already collapsed asleep in the seat of honor inside the office, and hoisted him onto her back.

“Alright. First, back to the inn—ah. Right.”

“Benefactor? Did you forget something?”

“I’m hungry. I’ve been peckish for a while, and I forgot.”

Jong Munun tilted his head.

Hadn’t she eaten before coming?

It even looked like she’d eaten a lot.

“Come on. Let’s go eat.”

Hm. What should I eat today?

Honestly, since they just bring out whatever on their own, there’s no need to worry—but still, it’s nice to have at least one dish that’s perfectly your taste.

Ah—before leaving, I should’ve told them to boil beef down soft, really soft, until it melts the moment it hits your mouth.

So what’ll come out today?

Was there any moment as exciting as the walk back to an inn with good food?

Without realizing it, Qing started humming.

Jong Munun found himself listening.

It was an intensely foreign tone, a sound clearly different from Central Plains music, but maybe because her voice was so good, it clung to the ear.

And of course it would—what Qing hummed were famous songs from her homeland that had bewitched countless people.

That was when they stepped into the inn, carried by that buoyant mood.

Suddenly her chest tightened hard, her breath caught, and gooseflesh sprinted down her spine on its own.

A murderous aura, sinister beyond measure.

It came from a figure on the first floor, sitting with their back to them at a table.

Judging by the sword leaned against the table, a sword master?

“Benefactor?”

Qing flicked her gaze to Jong Munun.

A confused expression, like he was asking what was wrong.

And from the chin resting against her shoulder came the steady, wheezing-soft, childlike breathing.

It was killing intent so finely controlled that it didn’t affect Jong Munun at all.

It didn’t even affect Jong Munyeok on her back.

Qing swallowed.

The figure sitting with their back turned felt like a massive mountain abruptly filling her vision.

This was at least late Transformation Realm.

No—higher than that.

But... the state of their evil karma was somehow... seven points?

Then that meant—probably one of the Martial Alliance’s own, likely an elder of a Righteous Sect.

And when a terrifying master only had seven points of evil karma... it wasn’t like Qing felt particularly on guard.

Carefully, she opened her mouth.

“Um... Elder?”

“Hm. In a situation like this, you should make the kids run first. Why are you whining ‘Elder’ in a pitiful voice like a baby chick? You’re killing my mood.”

The pressure vanished as if it had never existed.

It looked like some kind of test, or a mischievous joke.

But what could Qing do? She could see people’s evil karma.

If a scary master was only seven points, it wasn’t exactly alarming.

The middle-aged man rested an arm across the backrest, then turned his head to look at Qing.

Wow—a handsome, middle-aged man. An older guy who aged cool.

He had the kind of refined, gentlemanly appearance—by Qing’s homeland standards—that made it easy to guess he’d had a truly dazzling past.

“But what’s with the two kids? You didn’t just adopt a daughter—you even adopted a son? Or is picking up kids your hobby? Hm? These are our kids, aren’t they?”

His eyes softened even more.

But our kids?

Did the Jong brothers have some other secret about their birth?

Qing looked at Jong Munun, and the not-as-small kid couldn’t hide his baffled expression either.

Then the man let out a deep, dignified laugh.

“Hah. When I say ‘our kids,’ I mean Bai kids. People from the Central Plains might not know, but for folks around here, you can tell what people are at a glance. So I’ve got the rough situation, too. Bai people smallpox? They’ve been doing cruel things to little ones, haven’t they?”

“Y-you knew?”

“Isn’t it obvious without even looking? Because of that, we’re in an uproar too—an uproar. We’ve been sending disciples around to block it, but people’s hearts are really damn harsh. It’s the end times. The end times.”

The man clicked his tongue, tsk tsk.

Then he looked back at Qing, eyes glinting.

“But still—hoh. I’d heard rumors, but... you really achieved harmony, didn’t you? I wondered if my seniors were teasing a junior, but—haa—excellent. Our kids should be like that too. Ah, what was it—the—”

By this point, Qing had roughly figured out who he was.

Achieved harmony meant the Harmony Realm—Transformation Realm completed.

And Qing being in Transformation Realm wasn’t something the Martial Alliance had kept secret.

If he’d heard the news anyway, then he was an elder in a position where news from the Alliance reached him.

And given that remote, unfathomable level—

It had to be the Diancang Sect’s Flash Sword, Gilun.

“Ah. Maybe this isn’t the place to talk? I can’t say anything properly here. Let’s take a private room.”

“Ah—then, Elder, have you eaten?”

“Elder, my ass. I’m not old enough to be called that. Hm. It’s a bit early for mealtimes, but... it is better to eat when you can.”

Despite his heavy, dignified look, he was strangely plainspoken.

So—private room.

Without asking or arguing about anything, Gilun ordered clear liquor and gulped it down straight from the bottle, then turned a satisfied smile on Qing.

“As expected. They were calling you the next number one under heaven and all that—haah—Ximen Senior really picked up a dragon. Right. I’m Gilun.”

From both sides came the sound of someone sucking in a breath.

“HUP.”

Because Flash Sword Gilun was one of the Ten Great Masters Under Heaven—the greatest master in Yunnan, and also the greatest master among the Bai people.

He was the pride of Yunnan, the pride of the Bai people—and to someone who belonged to both, he was an idol as high as the sky.

“Y-you’re really Hero Gilun?”

“Wow—Flash Sword! Sun-Shooting Sword Art!”

“Yeah. Hm. You kids—no. You two, go upstairs for now. There’s something important to discuss.”

They looked deeply reluctant, but what could they do?

The two of them left first.

“Alright. What happened? Those kids.”

“Oh, um. I was passing by and some beggars were trying to do something horrible, so I stopped them. But actually, those kids’ father was a horrible murderous fiend, and he had two wives, and one of them died first and she was their real mother, and—”

“...?”

“And the second wife had an affair, and the other man was—can you believe it—his sworn brother. So then—”

“...??”

Qing had no real talent for telling a story.

Still, when you got older, even if the story was messy, you could eventually grab the rough context. That was what experience did.

After hearing the whole thing, Gilun clicked his tongue.

“Tsk tsk. They said this was a town crawling with the Blood Cult, and it really is sinister. Are you sure those beggars weren’t Blood Cult strings? Should I have questioned him instead of killing him?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“On the way here, some beggar bastard tried to stab someone to death in broad daylight. I killed him with one slash, but now that I think about it, that couple was suspicious as hell too. All of a sudden they collapsed and bawled, swearing they’d live righteously, calling on Heaven and Earth, calling on Buddha, calling on the Primordial Heavenly Lord, thanking everyone under the sky. They might’ve been people who knew something.”

“Ugh. It’s always beggars causing problems.”

“Is there a reason ‘beggar’ is an insult? Anyway... seeing you like this, the rumors don’t feel like complete nonsense. But I still need to confirm it again.”

Then, with a serious expression, Gilun asked:

“Is it really true... that the Five Poison Sect has become a Blood Cult den?”