Chapter 377: I Told You to Go Have Some Fun, Didn’t I? (7)

That’s how it came to be that they boldly barged in, and Kang Suyang himself received New Year’s greetings—with even the heretical masters all gathering to perform deep bows.

But still, they couldn’t afford to act stubborn.

After all, it was a prince.

Even if a fake impersonator, the law demanded treating him as the lord.

Whether truly a prince or a counterfeit, once he claimed the title, without absolutely clear proof, the law required addressing him as a prince.

Questioning the bloodline of the Son of Heaven was considered sacrilegious rebellion.

However, there was no need to feel wronged for being deceived by some shameless imp daring to impersonate royalty.

The authorities never, ever tolerate impersonation of the royal blood.

Even though the court preaches non-interference with martial affairs, anyone who dares impersonate the royal blood—even if a mere seven-year-old brat—will be tracked down and executed without mercy.

Still, Yo Hwancheol couldn’t sleep that night.

Because a sudden thought struck him.

When the prince went outside, he should have bowed once more to Kang Suyang!

Then, after bowing, he could have confidently declared that he would personally send him to the afterlife, wishing him well in advance—and how elegant and cool that would have been!

But it’s always the ones bad at arguing who only come up with brilliant ideas after the fact, lying back on their beds at home.

Meanwhile, the heretical masters sat grim-faced, heads together in the guest hall.

“Fake, definitely a fake prince.”

Declared Jo Gwangang, the self-proclaimed master of military strategy.

Mun Jeongyeok, commander of the White Tiger Battalion, sneered.

“Would fools really impersonate a prince just to get out of a tight spot? Would such idiots become the representatives of a whole clan’s city? I get the frustration of being beaten, but they need to make sense.”

Jo Gwangang just chuckled and raised his index finger, waving it side to side.

“That’s why they say you don’t talk to anyone who hasn’t read the Thirty-Six Stratagems at least three times. The ‘Stratagem of Using Everything’ teaches you to use all available means, and the ‘Sacrificial Stratagem’ teaches you to sacrifice some to deceive the enemy.”

“Looks like everything’s about to burn.”

“No, no. Damn illiterates who don’t read their strategy books. They need everything explained one by one.”

Jo Gwangang clicked his tongue.

“Send a loyal subordinate to impersonate the prince, then quietly have him killed by cutting off his tail later. Got it? That’s exactly what the ‘Sacrificial Stratagem’ is.”

“If the entire clan’s going to be wiped out, what loyalty? Would you do it, staking your entire family? They need to make sense.”

“So use everything you can. That’s the ‘Stratagem of Using Everything.’ Please try thinking a bit. I’ll lend you strategy books when I’m gone—read and keep them in your heart.”

Mun Jeongyeok’s forehead creased deeply.

“Fine. Let’s bet. I bet the prince is real, you bet he’s fake.”

“Hmph. You think I won’t bet? So, what—should I bet an arm?”

“Better to bet nicknames. If I lose, I’m no longer Mun Jeongyeok but Mun Jeongyeok, the Bokju Blockhead. If you lose, you’re no longer Jo Gwangang, Iron Fist of a Hundred Lotuses, but Jo Gwangang, the Master of Always Losing Stratagems. Deal? If you’re afraid to lose, you don’t have to accept.”

Jo Gwangang flared up.

“Ha! You think I can’t do it? Don’t whine and pretend it never happened.”

“You’re the one. And honestly, isn’t ‘Master of Always Losing Stratagems’ fitting? Always blabbering about strategy but never landing a hit.”

“The masters heard it too, right? They’re witnesses.”

“Heh heh, how could I miss such fun? But what now? Do we wait until the prince or the fake leaves the manor? According to your theory...”

The three commanders fell silent.

Well, Sa Heun, commander of the Black Bear Battalion, stayed quiet all along—not because he was taciturn, but because the battalion using white bears was an elite unit while the black bears were lower rank, so Sa Heun wasn’t supposed to open his mouth.

Anyway, even Sa Heun seemed to think Bo Yeol’s words cut to the bone.

Does this mean the mission’s ruined?

Surely the Rooster Forest Sword Sect Manor had sent messengers to the Martial Alliance requesting reinforcements.

If the prince stayed put too long, the Unorthodox Alliance’s plan to firmly settle in Guangxi by using the Yoga Flame Hall would collapse.

They certainly couldn’t afford to start a war with the Martial Alliance just for a harsh and poor Guangxi province.

“And what about Cheonhwageom? I hear the Martial Alliance has some gutsy strategists.”

Cheonhwageom is the Divine Dragon.

Being called the top among the Orthodox’s late-stage elite means that if ruffled, it stains the entire Orthodox martial world’s reputation.

Still, since martial affairs ultimately come down to fighting, sending him into a dangerous place was a bold strategy.

“Well, if Master Bo takes care of the sect master, the three of us will capture Cheonhwageom. After taking the manor, if we release him, what can Cheonhwageom do? He’d just go home. The Martial Alliance wouldn’t pick a fight over that. If they get angry, they can just apologize.”

Jo Gwangang answered.

Attack first, release later.

It was the exact logic of some militarist nation in Qing’s homeland suddenly bombing a bay.

Even the reasoning was the same—since they hate war anyway, just strike first and apologize later, hoping the other side lets it slide.

People’s thinking is all the same.

Especially for reckless bastards.

“Alright then. Do as you like. I have my own plan, and I’ll act separately.”

Do what you want.

I’ll do my own thing, move on my own, and if it goes well, all credit goes to me. Don’t expect me to share any.

The three commanders thought that to themselves.

What a stingy old bastard.

****

Qing was being treated with utmost respect.

They even assigned Daesa Jeo, a senior disciple of this generation, as her personal attendant—nothing could be more attentive than that.

Though the sect master hadn’t ordered this directly, Daesa Jeo volunteered to serve as maid, and while normally she would have scolded her harshly, leaving it be was also a form of permission.

Besides, from Qing’s perspective, the maid was noisy, burdensome, and above all, loud.

“Brother! Isn’t the weather clear and fine from the very start of the year? On such a beautiful day! In Namnyeong, there’s Cheongsu! And Cheongsu means Namnyeong! How about climbing Cheongsu Mountain to enjoy the scenery?!”

“Even if it doesn’t seem so, I’m still recuperating. You want to go hiking?”

“Oh no!!! The girl forgot! Since you’re so strong, I just forgot! Then how about Gahwasung?! They say bathing in the hot springs of Gahwasung has always meant longevity and health! Diseases flee! Skin heals! Bedsores disappear! The best hot springs ever!!”

“Hot springs? There’s hot springs?”

Qing’s eyes sparkled.

Basking in a hot bath is one of the three rare pleasures of this harsh Central Plains life.

Why three? Because without gastronomy and slaughter, it’d feel lacking.

And with hot springs, one can enjoy a feast and hot spring bathing at the same time—two of the three greatest pleasures combined!

Truly, the only government-approved drug (except tobacco is the only banned drug).

“That’s a great idea. Let’s go right away.”

Qing smiled brightly, thinking of the hot springs.

— “Excuse me, young master Seo. A letter has arrived for you.”

One of the Sword Sect disciples spoke outside and handed her a letter.

Looking at the red envelope in Qing’s hand, Unaram burst into a fuss.

“That’s a love letter! Of course! The world’s most beautiful woman! Hwa Joong Cheonhwa! The reincarnation poet! The Three-Headed Family!!”

“Could you leave out the last part...”

“Oh! Sorry! I just got used to saying ‘Three-Headed’! The girl apologizes! Brother! Unaram begs for your forgiveness!”

Unaram stood on her hands as she spoke.

If given even a little scolding, she’d act like she was doing a formal apology, so jokingly they asked if apologies must be done standing on one’s head.

When asked about the custom, they said it was a Khitan style of apology, and from then on, that was her usual behavior.

Better than kneeling anyway, so Qing didn’t stop her.

“Unaram’s doing what she owes.”

“Unaram! Every month of the year! This year, I want to apologize all thirteen months!”

Unaram shouted from beneath her flipped-up skirt.

Her legs were a beautiful, delicate brown.

But since Qing’s eyesight was bad, and Unaram only took three days to turn into someone you couldn’t tell if she was a woman or a wild boar...

Qing stood Unaram upside down and frowned as she held the envelope close to her face.

To Young Master Seo Qing,

That’s definitely my letter. A red envelope means a love letter?

Of course, it wasn’t surprising.

Thanks to the saying “fortune favors the brave,” or maybe the naive philosophy of “if it works, good; if not, who cares,” Qing had received more than one love letter.

Qing tore it open.

How many sappy lines of affection would make her laugh this time?

Chinese men usually suck at writing love letters—usually it’s their name, praise of Qing’s looks, boasting of their house and famous horse, and a generous promise to marry her in order.

Some kind of standard format, maybe.

It says her beauty was so great that birds like doves, geese, magpies, crows, mandarin ducks, hawks, and owls flew around admiring her, flapping so much they fell exhausted.

Maybe this letter would be more original.

Qing spread the paper flat.

But there were just a few black characters on white paper.

A love letter, but only two lines!

“Oh.”

Qing stuck the letter close to her face like an old man losing his sight.

Her expression hardened.

I know your secret. Your origin. I will wait at Chuksi, Plum Blossom Room, Dragon Palace Pavilion.

My secret? And my origin?

Qing’s pupils trembled.

The secret she kept was precisely that strange convenience only visible to her own eyes.

And now her origin too.

Her head grew complicated.

What could it mean?

Could there be others like her in this world?

Qing had no information about the Martial Arts Life and Death Dictionary, so if anyone knew more about this world, they might have deduced things just by hearing her reputation.

Or maybe had some other way to recognize her.

“Unaram, do you know where the Dragon Palace Pavilion is?”

“The Dragon Palace Pavilion! How could a Namnyeong native not know the Dragon Palace Pavilion! It’s Namnyeong’s finest inn! The Dragon Palace Pavilion is a towering eight-story pavilion, truly a skyscraper! Namnyeong’s pride!”

Unaram, only her black hair visible from under her flipped skirt, answered.

“Are you interested in the Dragon Palace Pavilion?! But it’s so expensive! No! Unaram would have to empty five months’ allowance! No! I’d have to borrow money from the frontlines! May I get up now? I have to go to the frontlines!”

“No need to get into debt. Hmm. I see.”

If the meeting place was the Namnyeong First Inn, then there was no hostility—it was a sign to relax.

They didn’t want a fuss in such a famous, crowded place. They wanted her not to cause a scene either.

But that didn’t mean she could relax.

She needed to scout the area.

She had to check the conditions, see if escape was possible, and whether any suspicious people were banded together controlling the place.

“Alright. Let’s go. And I have lots of money. Today I’ll eat until I burst—or no, I mustn’t burst.”

After almost bursting a rib while eating, Qing was trying to be more careful.

She needed to recover quickly and eat heartily.

If her eyes got carried away with the food before her, then falling ill for a long time would be an even bigger loss—real food loss.