Chapter 385: Let’s Have Some Real Fun (1)

The Chinese people's obsession with ranking games is something etched into their souls like instinct.

Just as the Five Great Clans stand ranked at the top, the lowly and filthy bastards at the bottom are also ranked in order.

Thus, the five most disgraceful professions gathered and thought: Even when lowborn scum like us get beaten or killed, no one cares.

So let’s band together, us lowborn scum, and help each other out a little—maybe, just maybe, we’ll survive.

Even scum have to survive, somehow.

That was the birth of the Hao Clan.

Not that the Hao Clan is some grand force.

It’s more like a mutual aid group for the downtrodden—scum sticking together just to feel a little less pathetic.

They’re not waving red flags shouting, Let’s build a world where lowly bastards are respected!

Because if they did that, they’d all end up dead.

There aren’t even many masters in the Hao Clan.

Why? Because once someone becomes a master, they’re no longer considered scum—they escape to the bright world, where they get treated well and live comfortably.

The few so-called “masters” that remain are only those who’ve messed up so badly they can’t show their face under the sun.

Of course, among the Hao Clan’s leadership, there were hawkish types—people who said, We may not have status, style, popularity, or honor, but don’t we have money?

So there was a faction pushing to launch large-scale business ventures.

But ever since the collapse of Black Spot, even those hawks lost their momentum.

Look at those Black Spot idiots.

A bunch of back-alley merchants got full of themselves and acted like they were somebody just because they had a little gold and dared to spout “Black Spot Law.” And what happened?

If lowlifes with a bit of money start strutting around, it only takes a moment for them to get torn apart.

So let’s just bend with the wind.

A reed may fall, but it doesn’t break.

And in that spirit, the Hao Clan actually prefers dealing with orthodox martial artists over the unorthodox ones.

At least orthodox martial artists pay for services rendered. The unorthodox bastards just treat the Hao Clan like their errand boys.

In truth, the jobs the Hao Clan takes are disgraceful, filthy, and often outright wicked, which gets them lumped in with the unorthodox sects.

But the Unorthodox Alliance doesn’t want to be compared to low-class riffraff either, so they refuse to acknowledge the Hao Clan at all.

So the Hao Clan are flunkies—parasites clinging to the unorthodox world.

They're looked down on more than anyone else, only called on when needed, and then—

When they ask for payment?

“Milord. I happen to possess some information about the Heavenly Flower Sword that may pique your interest. If you would be so kind as to spare a few silver pieces so us lowborn wretches may wet our throats—”

Smack!

The porter Wang’s head jerked sideways from the slap.

A lowly bastard, trying to extract gold and silver from whom?

Mun Jeongyeok snarled.

“Say that again. What did you just say?”

“N-no! I must’ve lost my mind, truly! Haha, what an honor, that Your Excellency would even deign to make use of one such as me! How dare a lowborn like me speak of payment!”

Wang, who handles waste removal for Yoga Flame Hall, forced out a fawning grin.

In fact, per the Unorthodox Alliance’s directives, those requesting information from the Hao Clan are supposed to pay a set fee.

Because if they don't, the job either turns out badly or gets deliberately sabotaged out of spite.

But the unorthodox bastards took that to mean they could pad their operation budgets with “Hao usage fees” and embezzle the rest.

So of course Wang, slapped for asking about payment, responded with the kind of intel that screamed: choke on this, bastards.

“So. You’re saying you’ve got information on the Heavenly Flower Sword?”

“Hehe. Just as ordered, I was watching the Heavenly Flower Sword and uncovered something most surprising! Last night, she rented the Dragon Room at Dragon Palace Pavilion. You know the Dragon Room, right? The best suite at Namnyeong’s top inn—”

“Skip the fluff. Then what?”

“Well! Turns out Sir Sa Sa paid her a visit in the middle of the night. According to the maid, the Heavenly Flower Sword greeted him like she was seeing her own grandfather—warm and delighted. Treated him with reverence, like honoring a senior of her sect.”

“......?”

Mun Jeongyeok’s thoughts came to a screeching halt.

Who met whom? And why?

“Do you even realize what you’re saying? You could lose your head over this.”

“Would I dare lie under heaven? The Heavenly Flower Sword booked the room, brewed the tea, and waited. Sir Sa Sa came personally, sometime around the hour of the rat—deep into the night. Snuck in, quietly.”

Words are tricky things.

Especially at that hour. In the dead of night.

Sir Sa Sa—an elder of the martial world.

Snuck in. Personally.

That phrasing implied that the Heavenly Flower Sword held the upper hand.

That Sir Sa Sa was the one colluding with her.

Because usually, the one who has a request is the one who calls the other.

“That had better be the truth. Otherwise, I’ll massacre every sewer rat in this entire city.”

“Naturally, milord.”

And even after offering information, this is the thanks he gets. These unorthodox bastards aren’t even worth spitting on.

But then again, when is a porter not getting cursed out?

Wang’s pathetic smile kept his real thoughts well hidden.

After he bowed low and left, Mun Jeongyeok was left alone, trying to look serious.

Sir Sa Sa, colluding with the orthodox divine dragon?

Sir Sa Sa wasn’t just a top master—he was one of the few physicians officially recognized by the Unorthodox Alliance. A true heavyweight.

Sure, nobody wanted to get treated by him because he had an unhealthy obsession with snake venom...

But still—colluding with the top junior martial master of the orthodox world?

It made no sense.

Why would the Heavenly Flower Sword, who had unmatched martial skill, money, honor, beauty—who lacked nothing—ally herself with an unorthodox villain?

No reason came to mind.

“Interesting.”

See? That damn old man talked big and now it’s been a full month of silence. Just stalling for time.

That wretched codger. Trying to betray the Grand Alliance of Unorthodox Martial Heroes?

Just to live out his final years in peace?

Mun Jeongyeok’s lips twisted bitterly.

****

Nayangyeol had come as a representative of Heavenly Flower Hall to meet with the Heavenly Flower Sword.

For the Hall, this was a tricky matter—they had to discuss the uncomfortable issue of the “Heavenly Flower” title.

But Nayangyeol wasn’t sent because she was the Senior Sister of this generation, or a high-ranking master.

She was chosen because she was the Hall’s most notorious face-worshipper—a full-blown looks-obsessed maniac.

She was even acknowledged as having a rigorous and objective aesthetic eye, one that surpassed mere preference.

If the Heavenly Flower Sword was truly the most beautiful under heaven, then the Hall had no problem acknowledging her as Heavenly Flower.

A flower, even if it bloomed outside the garden, was still a flower.

And if that flower happened to be the most beautiful in the world? Then their garden would gladly show it respect.

So Nayangyeol’s attitude had already been decided before she even met Qing.

“You know what? I normally hate putting anything on my face.”

Qing looked over at her.

Already a stunning beauty—but with makeup, she truly had a face you couldn’t get tired of.

But still—

Here we go again.

Qing shook her head.

“Mm. Didn’t ask.”

“Right? But I started doing it... to look good for my teddy bear. Every morning, I look into my bronze mirror and think: Would he find this exciting? Would he understand how much I care?”

“No. He wouldn’t. And he doesn’t.”

“Even if he doesn’t, it’s fine. If my teddy bear can just enjoy the sight of me, that alone is enough reward.”

“Wait, who the hell is this ‘teddy bear’? That’s a stupid name for a person.”

“Oh, he’s just this cute little beast who eats and naps all day. Can’t resist sweets. But really, he’s a fierce predator. Clever, too. Like someone I know~”

The Central Plains’ love culture has a cringe factor beyond imagination.

Especially with the nicknames. The more attached they get, the more ridiculous the pet names become.

My little parasite. My dumbass. My fat piggy, and so on.

Nayangyeol gave Qing a look full of longing.

But Qing just batted it away.

“Every time you open your mouth, it’s pure seduction.”

“It overflows. I can’t hold it in. Here—won’t you feel this pounding heart of mine—”

Nayangyeol tried to take Qing’s hand and place it on her chest.

But Qing effortlessly slipped her wrist away.

“Tch. You know bears are fast. Just like my teddy bear.”

Qing was weak against being pursued.

She wasn’t cold enough to shut someone down just for liking her—but she wasn’t so desperate for affection that she’d date someone just for their looks, either.

Brushing off Nayangyeol’s morning flirting, Qing turned toward the Rooster Forest disciples’ dining hall.

She figured she’d see what they were serving this morning. Probably best to skip anything too heavy and just have some simple porridge.

“Sister! Did you hear!?”

“Huh? Hear what?”

“The Yoga Flame [N O V E L I G H T] Hall bastards just issued an ultimatum to Jangsan Martial Hall! Told them to surrender!”

“What? Just like that? So then?”

“So the Jangsan Hall Master requested reinforcements from Rooster Forest Sword Sect! They're holding a meeting right now—”

“Ah. There you are, Lady Ximen.”

Do Cheol, Rooster Forest’s head disciple, appeared, cutting through Unaram’s voice with a thundering tone.

“Were you looking for me?”

“Yes. I have a request to make. It seems the unorthodox side has given up on taking Rooster Forest and is now targeting the other orthodox sects in Namnyeong instead.”

“Ah. I just heard. Jangsan Martial Hall asked for reinforcements, right?”

“Ahem. Unaram, you brat...”

Do Cheol narrowed his eyes.

Unaram flinched and looked away into the distance, unable to answer.

He knew better than to talk about sect business so casually.

“If Jangsan Martial Hall falls, the other orthodox halls will likely abandon the Martial Alliance in droves. So we’re sending disciples to support them, and I was wondering...”

Basically, they were asking: Would you be willing to help in what’s going to be a major battle?

It was music to Qing’s ears.

“Oh, then I can’t possibly sit this one out.”

“Actually, our Sect Leader opposed the Heavenly Flower Sword’s involvement. To be honest, the enemy’s strength far surpasses ours, and we can’t guarantee your safety...”

“Come on. What martial artist lives for safety? And what’s the point of keeping around a top-tier master if you don’t use her? I already eat enough as it is—gotta earn my meals, right?”

Qing’s breezy joke made Do Cheol’s eyes tremble.

Easy words, hard truth.

They were up against three battle squads from the Unorthodox Alliance—each with their squad leader, vice leader, and even the poison master Sir Sa Sa.

An impossible battle.

Even the Heavenly Flower Sword had barely avoided such a confrontation once before, only by hiding behind a prince’s title.

And now she was willingly stepping forward?

It brought tears to Do Cheol’s eyes.

He clasped his hands and bowed deeply.

“This is a debt we shall never forget.”

It really was a huge favor.

Qing simply had confidence in her abilities. She didn’t even consider the possibility of losing.

To her, this was the natural duty of someone on the righteous side.

But if Ximen Surin had seen this, she might’ve beat her chest in frustration.

What the hell does she think she is, throwing herself into a battlefield like that?

This was a battle she could have skipped without anyone blaming her.

So for Qing to offer her help—it was a decision that deserved a deep, respectful bow.

Qing, however, just found it awkward being bowed to like some elder.

So she deflected with humor.

“Aww, don’t call it a favor. We’re one big righteous family—helping each other is just what we do.”