Sichuan's Mad Dragon (Novel) - Chapter 111 - I Think I Know Who It Is

Chapter 111 – I Think I Know Who It Is

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Translated by Heavenly Cat
Edited by Celestial Knight

Read it only at Novelbyu.com & Utoon.net

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There is no one in the world who likes being teased by their own name.

Much less ‘Surrender, Hwangbo Ok.’

Though he was just a branch line, as a man of the great Hwangbo House, this was not the kind of insult he could let slide.

What made it worse was that the other man hadn’t even given his own name, leaving Hwangbo Ok with no good retort.

Hwangbo Ok’s pot-lid-sized hand came down upon the table where Ju-seong was seated.

-Tududeut.

As if digging into tofu, his hand laden with powerful energy crushed straight into the table.

“Frightening.”

Ju-seong nodded appreciatively. The hand was entirely covered in calluses… a fist school befitting the reputation of the Hwangbo House.

“Are you feeling like apologizing?”

Ju-seong shook his head.

“Who’s the one who butted into a quiet conversation to pick a fight?”

“Didn’t you just demean the martial sects doing business in Southern Zhili, calling them no better than servants?”

“…You took it that way? Young Master Hwangbo, you must be quite talented in martial arts.”

At the unexpected compliment, Hwangbo Ok tilted his head in confusion.

“What do you mean, so suddenly?”

“If you couldn’t understand plain speech and lacked even the slightest talent in martial arts, you would have been kicked out in your undergarments long ago.”

“You wretch!”

Hwangbo Ok flew into a rage and threw a punch.

Even a punch launched in a fit of anger carried undeniable power.

The Hwangbo fist technique Ju-seong was seeing for the first time was simplicity incarnate.

A straight path, delivering the greatest possible impact to the opponent.

Since martial arts were originally meant to subdue opponents, one could say it was the art most faithful to that purpose.

‘This can’t be all there is to the Hwangbo House.’

If hands covered in calluses hardened by Iron Sand Palm training, and that straightforward approach filled only with destructive intent, were all the Hwangbo had to offer…

‘If that were so, they never would have risen to the Three Great Families in the first place.’

Muttering to himself, Ju-seong extended his hand.

Striking Second to Overcome.

Launching a move a beat slower to subdue a faster-deployed technique.

This was not a technique or skill… merely a phenomenon born of a stark difference in level.

-Tok.

Ju-seong’s forearm touched Hwangbo Ok’s wrist.

The path of the punch veered; Hwangbo Ok’s straight elbow bent.

The punch lost its momentum and power bled away.

-Sasak.

He coiled around Hwangbo Ok’s forearm like a snake, burrowing in.

‘I shouldn’t break him.’

Originally, this was a technique to cripple someone by bending the elbow outward.

-Kwak!

Ju-seong’s palm slid into the crook of Hwangbo Ok’s elbow, gripping and pulling his forearm tight.

“Uugh!”

On top of that, Ju-seong’s front foot lightly tapped Hwangbo Ok’s shin, and he lost his balance and tumbled forward.

-Peok! Peok! Peok!

Three clean striking sounds.

As he tumbled, Hwangbo Ok was struck consecutively on chin, bridge of the nose, and brow… his upper body forcibly snapped upright.

He staggered with a dazed expression, blood streaming from his nose.

One moment he was falling forward; the next, stars flashed three times, and suddenly his vision had returned.

Dazed, Hwangbo Ok babbled.

“Is this a dream?”

“You’re dreaming, you dumbass.”

-Cheolsseok!

Ju-seong slapped Hwangbo Ok across the face repeatedly, pressing him.

“Surrender or not, punk? Doing the Hwangbo Ok or not?”

“Sur-, surrender! I hwangpo… surrender!”

“Hmm.”

Only then did Ju-seong dust off his hands and stop.

‘They’re orthodox faction folks, so at least they don’t gang up unfairly.’

Since a one-on-one fight had clearly begun, they hadn’t interfered.

This was less about caring for public opinion and more like a habit ingrained in their bones.

The reason the stuffy group called the orthodox faction had long remained mainstream in jianghu was nothing complicated. It came down to this.

When two people are having a one-on-one scuffle, don’t butt in.

Fights didn’t escalate into group brawls; even if someone was injured, only one person suffered.

Less chance of rifts forming within orthodox forces; naturally, unity comes more easily.

Ju-seong gently stroked Hwangbo Ok’s hunched back and said.

“Young Master Hwangbo, are not all people of this Central Plains subjects of His Imperial Majesty?”

“…That is undeniably true.”

“The Martial Alliance, too, even if not officially under the court, is operated by His Majesty’s subjects… shouldn’t they be considered servants of the throne? My little brother put it a bit harshly, but is that really something to get so worked up about?”

Even after taking that beating, Hwangbo Ok still had his pride. He clenched his fist and answered.

“Should not a jianghu man know freedom, unbound by anything? It suffices to honor only the family that raised him and the master who bestowed martial arts upon him.”

“Ah, you pathetic fool.”

Ju-seong swung with full hip power and smacked Hwangbo Ok upside the head. This time, the warriors of the Hwangbo faction protested.

“See here! The fight is over… why humiliate him further!”

“Someone who hasn’t even given his name is truly disgraceful!”

Ju-seong smacked his lips.

‘Shooting off their mouths like this is also the orthodox way.’

With their unblocked mouths, stubbornly spouting what they deemed right was also the chronic disease of these obstinate folk.

Ju-seong raised both arms to calm them.

“Right, my name is Ju-seong. This lad with me is my sworn brother, Namgung Chun-mong. As for me, I’ve made a bit of a name in Yunnan Province, but it’s so remote that heroes of the Central Plains wouldn’t know me.”

As he introduced himself, he threw in a cupped-fist salute for good measure.

Startled by the unexpected courtesy, the Hwangbo warriors awkwardly matched his salute while shuffling backward.

Ju-seong looked back at Hwangbo Ok and spoke.

“But what Young Master Hwangbo said really was pathetic.”

“…Why is that? Isn’t the nature of a jianghu man to act on his own sense of justice and chase freedom?”

At Hwangbo Ok’s words, Ju-seong asked indifferently.

“Who built the Great Wall? Why do the powers beyond the frontier not invade the fertile Central Plains? Who collects taxes to feed the armies that maintain that peace and distributes them where needed? Thanks to whom can people like you pat your bellies while spending years training in martial arts?”

A merciless barrage. Hwangbo Ok protested weakly.

“…The heroes who swept the age and ushered in this era of peace were also martial artists. They were jianghu men. Even Liu Bang, who founded the Han dynasty, was a ruffian from Peixian…”

“If it were the chaotic era when those heroes contended… sorry, but with Young Master Hwangbo’s level of talent, you wouldn’t have lived to see the autumn leaves change more than a few times.”

“…!”

Hwangbo Ok glared at Ju-seong, then his eyes lost their fire.

Ju-seong was staring daggers at him with a terrifying gaze.

“What, got a problem? You lost to me.”

“No problem. What Young Hero Ju says makes sense.”

“Right. Did you do wrong or not? Are you reflecting?”

From passionate debater to neighborhood thug in an instant… Ju-seong draped his arm over Hwangbo Ok’s neck.

“…I, I made a mistake. I let my temper get the better of me.”

Ju-seong stuck out his hand in front of Hwangbo Ok.

“Ah, a reconciliation.”

Just as Hwangbo Ok was about to clasp Ju-seong’s hand, Ju-seong twisted his face and swatted the hand away.

“No, compensation money as an apology.”

When Hwangbo Ok handed over a silver tael, Ju-seong glared at him with a ‘do I look like a beggar’ expression.

“What is it you want!”

Hwangbo Ok wailed, and Ju-seong curled his lip as he spoke.

“Even if you’re branch line, your martial arts are excellent for your age. You must have received an invitation. Let me see it.”

Hwangbo Ok, looking despondent as if he might lose the invitation, reluctantly handed over a letter sealed with silk.

After scanning the date, venue, and selection process, Ju-seong tilted his head quizzically.

“Hmm, so those not from the Seven Sects or Three Families have to go through a separate team battle for selection. Isn’t that unfair?”

“Well… While they’re going through the team battle, the disciples of the Seven Sects and Three Families have their own preliminary round beforehand. So the stamina drain and injury risk are about the same.”

“Hmm. But it says here that those who received invitations like you skip even the preliminaries?”

“…Rising stars who’ve clearly stood out during their growth are advanced to the main competition without preliminaries.”

“That’s ridiculous. From that fight just now, I’m clearly stronger than you.”

“Haha… If you want the invitation, I’ll give it to you.”

Hwangbo Ok was gradually realizing that the man before him was the type to nitpick everything under the sun.

He hoped handing this over would make him go away. Even starting from the preliminaries, Hwangbo Ok was quietly confident.

But Ju-seong shot him that ‘do I look like a beggar’ look again and shook his head.

“A hot-blooded jianghu man should overcome all these prejudices and biases to rise to the top.”

Chun-mong interjected from the side.

“Brother, it doesn’t really seem like that much discrimination… It’s pretty reasonable.”

“Silence! I’ll show you a delightful rebellion by a martial artist from a no-name sect. Young Master Hwangbo, lead the way.”

“Excuse me? Lead the way? To, to where?”

At this quasi-demonic behavior demeaning his own sect, Hwangbo Ok found himself involuntarily switching to polite speech.

Ju-seong said grandly.

“This is my first time in Southern Zhili. You know the area around here, don’t you?”

“I do know it well, but…”

The Hwangbo House was originally based in Shandong Province.

But Hwangbo Ok’s branch line ran an escort agency between Huguang Province and Southern Zhili, so he knew the local geography.

“I’m asking you to guide us.”

The moment Ju-seong’s words fell, the warriors standing behind Hwangbo Ok began gathering their things to leave.

‘Sorry, Ok brother. We’re going first.’

‘I told you to fix that temper of yours…’

Hwangbo Ok could almost hear their voices.

-Jjak! Jjak!

One of the warriors slapped awake the man who had been knocked out by Hwangbo Ok earlier.

“Hey, Pyeong-jin. Wake up. Anyway, it’s because of your annoyingly sharp ears that problems arise… Now Ok brother’s been dragged off by some weirdo.”

“Huh? Huh? Where am I?”

“Let’s go, before we catch trouble too.”

Hwangbo Ok squeezed his eyes shut as he listened to his cousins and sixth-cousins chattering.

* * *

“Ugh, with a big event coming up, look at all these beggars crawling in for scraps.”

Hwangbo Ok grimaced and snatched at his robe hem, as if worried the filthy smell might rub off.

Ju-seong needled him from beside.

“Oh, Hwangbo Ok. That was a very ‘son of the Three Great Families branch line’ move just now.”

“I am the son of a branch line of the Three Great Families! Honestly, you’re unbelievable…”

Hwangbo Ok and Ju-seong were now speaking informally to each other.

Though he’d been half-forced into being a guide, the banter of Ju-seong… the former street performer… and Chun-mong… former beggar sect member… had long since broken down his walls.

Their ages were roughly similar, and Ju-seong, despite his bizarre personality, was surprisingly personable.

Perhaps social skills were cultivated from growing up surrounded by all those ‘older sisters’ in the acrobatic troupe.

“That said… there really are a lot of beggars. Or no? Half of them might be here for the Ascending Dragon Assembly. I can’t tell who’s a beggar and who’s a wanderer.”

They had traveled down the Yangtze and arrived at Anqing, a major river transport hub.

The capital of Southern Zhili was Nanjing. Being the capital of a grand and prosperous city, one might expect the Martial Alliance to be located there… but it wasn’t.

The Martial Alliance was located here, in Anqing Prefecture, not Nanjing.

This was due to Nanjing’s historical significance.

Since ancient times, no fewer than five dynasties had made Nanjing their capital. Even the current dynasty originally had Nanjing as its founding capital.

Placing the Martial Alliance in this city… capital to six dynasties… would be inauspicious.

What if the rogues of jianghu absorbed the auspicious energy of this hallowed land and tried to carve out a new realm?

So instead, the Alliance was placed in Anqing Prefecture… a smaller but still major river transport hub.

Naturally, during major events like this Ascending Dragon Assembly, Anqing burst at the seams with martial artists flooding in from all over.

Just then…

-Kkang! Kkang! Kkang!

A band of beggars was marching down the main road, banging brass bowls in formation.

Strangely, the rhythm and pitch matched so well that it was hard to tell if it was just noise or ritual music.

A young beggar at the front somehow had gotten hold of a small gong, banging it with his palm as he shouted.

“The beggar among beggars! The filthiest man in all the Central Plains! A hero who downs a dou of wine with ease, his beard matted and jutting like Yide’s! He protects our begging bowls and keeps the limbs of us smelly brats intact! This is our Beggar King! The Beggar King is passing through! No need to clear the way, but if you dislike the stink, plug your noses!”

Hwangbo Ok stroked his chin.

“The Beggar King… That name’s been coming up a lot in Henan lately.”

King of beggars.

To dare attach the character for ‘King’ to an alias, one at least needed ‘Beggar’ in front to lower the prestige.

Soon, a familiar stench wafted to Ju-seong’s nose.

“Ah, goddamn.”

The curse slipped out naturally. Ju-seong scrunched his face and pinched his nose.

“I think I know who that is.”