Chapter 401: There’s One Restaurant on the Plain Hill, and Two Hammers (8)

Qing asked with a voice full of laughter:

“How is it that you’re crawling out from under a woman’s bed like a rat? You know lustful degenerates get the death penalty, right?”

“Th-that’s...”

As Hammer floundered helplessly, Qing added a single word while looking down at him:

“Answer.”

A truly gallant statement.

A real warrior should speak his intent in one word.

Crushed by that sheer pressure, Hammer immediately slammed his head to the floor.

“I have committed a crime worthy of death!”

****

Among the Jin clan warriors, there were those wearing strangely refreshed expressions.

As if something heavy had finally been shaken off. Like people welcoming a bright new morning.

And as bright and light as they felt, the night at the Umi Shrine Hall had echoed with wails—no, with screams.

The common folk who heard the noise lit up with gossip, spreading rumors until their lips cracked.

"I heard something in the dead of night. You know what it was? Hair-raising. Horrible shrieking—like someone dying for real. But guess where I heard it?"

“Ahem, I’m a bit parched...”

“Ahhh, that hits the spot. All right, don’t rush me. It was at the Umi Shrine Hall. The Earthwork Immortal Lady got cursed, see? All the wrongly slain Jin family folk came back as vengeful ghosts.”

“Right, ghost wails! Just thinking about it—ugh, gives me chills. The Earthwork Immortal Lady? No idea. But if she were a real shaman, wouldn’t she have shown herself by now?”

Where else in the Central Plains could you find a story this entertaining?

People who bought drinks to hear the tale would then spread it again at their turn: “Hey, did you hear what happened?”—and the cycle continued.

Of course, plenty of folks didn’t buy drinks, just perked up their ears and got the gossip for free.

Either way, it explained how a rumor could spread across an entire city in a single day.

(A side note: rumors in the Central Plains rarely spread beyond a city. For that to happen, someone has to physically leave town—and people usually don’t care that much about someone else’s hometown, nor are the tellers any good at spinning the story.)

“Well, there was this shaman called the Earthwork Immortal Lady in our area who worshiped a war god—ah wait, I should explain the Jin Family Massacre first. So, what happened was...”

Regardless, the topic of “Earthwork Immortal Lady vs. the Jin Family Curse” set the whole city abuzz.

Soon, naturally, betting pools sprang up everywhere: Who would win—the shaman or the curse?

That’s just the Central Plains way.

With so many bored people in a bored winter making a racket, it was only a matter of time before the story reached the Killing Moon Sect.

“What the fuck? Shit—someone bring me Wangwoo! That son of a bitch!”

And the moment Wangwoo, the General Administrator, heard it, an inkstone flew across the air.

Should I dodge? Nah.

Wangwoo hesitated briefly, then simply hunched his neck and braced himself.

A brush pot would be another matter—but he could take an inkstone.

Smash!

An inkstone is a vessel used to hold water for grinding ink. Naturally, it had water inside—so when it shattered, it splashed everywhere.

Yi Wangchul, Sect Master of the Killing Moon Sect, exploded with fury:

“You, YOU! What the hell were you doing?! I told you to take care of it personally! Just because you're General Administrator now, you’re too high and mighty to move your ass? When did you start sending only rookies while pretending it’s not your business?!”

“...I apologize.”

Wangwoo lowered his head.

Water ran down his forehead in beads, dripping from his nose.

As a skilled martial artist, his scalp didn’t tear from getting hit with an inkstone—but it sure as hell felt awful.

If self-help books existed in the Central Plains, Yi Wangchul wouldn’t be doing this kind of idiocy.

Berating your subordinates like this only builds resentment. No one reflects sincerely from it.

Just look at Qing’s hometown.

Plenty of office workers say, “Fuck it, I’m only putting up with this shit because I need to eat.” If imagination could kill, half the bosses would’ve died ten times over.

So yes, Wangwoo was pissed.

Even aside from disobeying orders—this kind of treatment was utterly pointless.

Goddamn it. This is too much.

I lost seven of my guys, and instead of comforting me, I get this bullshit?

And the Sect Master knows damn well how much I cared about Hammer, didn’t he?

The faction around Strategist Bang was already growing.

If he lost his right-hand man at a time like this, the least the Sect Master could’ve done was offer support.

“Please calm yourself, Sect Master. Surely the General Administrator only entrusted the task to reliable men. Isn’t that right, General Wang?”

“...Yes.”

What the hell? Is that bastard taking my side for once?

Wangwoo briefly gave Bang Jeokmyeong a second look.

But only for a moment—because what looked like support was actually a subtle backhand.

“You sent seven men, and none came back. Clearly, the enemy wasn’t weak. For all we know, General Wang may have been taken down himself... Well, unless he’d gone personally. If his skills weren’t up to par, he’d be dead; if they were, it might have worked. Either way, staying behind ensured his own safety, didn’t it?”

“Hah! Should’ve just died out there! Get out! I can’t stand the sight of you!”

Fuming, Yi Wangchul turned away.

As he left, he grabbed Bang Jeokmyeong by the sleeve.

“Strategist Bang. That Earthwork Immortal Lady—was she really that powerful? Could she have ties to a sect? Are we about to get hit with some big retaliation?”

Only after poking the hornet’s nest did he remember the martial world proverb: Be cautious. Always be cautious.

But Bang Jeokmyeong shook his head.

“More likely, the Jin Family intervened.”

“What?! Then the Jin Family knows what we’re doing?!”

“There’s no real need to worry.”

“They likely already suspected us. Now they may have evidence—but what can they do? As far as anyone knows, the Sect Master had nothing to do with it.”

“Huh?”

“Wasn’t it General Wang who acted on his own? Did you order it? Did I order it?”

Realization dawned on Yi Wangchul’s face.

“That’s right!”

I didn’t order it. Wangwoo acted on his own. It was his decision.

“We can resolve this smoothly by handing over General Wang. We may not be able to use the curse story anymore—but haven’t we already milked it for all it’s worth?”

And Bang Jeokmyeong chuckled softly.

“The Jin Family can’t come after us anyway.”

“Why not?”

“They don’t have the manpower. Even if the core fighters all came, it’d only be about ten people. They’d be finished.”

“Wouldn’t we be finished too?”

“But the Golden Talisman Guild and the Guangzhou Immortal Square Guild were in on it, too. With the Three Allied Guilds united, what can even a peak-tier expert like the Jin Family Head do?”

“But what if the Martial Alliance gets involved...”

“Well, then you’ll just have to trust the Unorthodox Federation. The Federation has high hopes for you, Sect Master. Why else would they send me to the Killing Moon Sect?”

Strategist Bang had been dispatched by the Unorthodox Federation.

Without that backing, no matter how brilliant he was, a frail scholar like him wouldn’t have lasted a day here.

No matter how much the Sect Master protected him, someone weak always drew trouble. But with the Federation behind him? No one dared.

“You truly are my Zhang Zifang!”

“Huhu, that’s high praise.”

Zhang Zifang’s real name was Zhang Liang—a strategist from the Chu-Han era, famed as the greatest advisor in history. Even more revered than Zhuge Liang. Thus, calling someone your Zhang Zifang was the highest compliment a strategist could receive in the Central Plains.

“Fucking bastards, playing their little games.”

And just beyond the jangji door, hiding under the eaves, Wangwoo ground his teeth.

Overhearing that conversation by sheer luck—if he hadn’t, he would’ve been served up as a scapegoat to the Jin clan without knowing a thing.

That’s why they say, “Walls have ears, and rats hear your secrets at night”—so be careful what you say, always.

Now that the interrogation of the unorthodox bastards had ended, the Jin Family Head’s face was pale as death.

What... what am I even looking at right now?

How... how could something like this...?

In over fifty years of life, he had never seen such a horrifying scene.

He had believed his Celestial Flower Sword to be a proper, courteous, excellent young person.

And yet—how could this be...?

So brutal, so grotesque—he was left speechless, his lips parting silently, unable to form words.

And in response, Qing smiled sweetly.

A truly radiant smile. But as a righteous elder of the orthodox sects, he still had to say something.

“Ahem... Celestial Flower Sword. Tea is meant to be drunk hot. How can you drink tea cold?”

“Ah, but cold tea has its own charm, doesn’t it?”

“Cold tea isn’t real tea. You shouldn’t make cold tea from actual tea leaves.”

The term “cold tea” existed, yes—but strictly speaking, it didn’t refer to tea brewed from real leaves.

Fruit infusions, floral brews, roasted grains—those were the kinds that could be served cold.

Proper tea—true tea—should never be served cold.

“Ehh, but it honestly tastes fine.”

“Ahem.”

Even this warm, benevolent Jin Family Head couldn’t bring himself to argue further and turned his head away.

There’s no such thing as a perfect person, they say.

Martial arts, character, looks—she was flawless in all respects... except for this horrifying personal quirk.

No, perhaps it was only because of such a dreadful imperfection that a peerless dragon like her could be born!

How could the heavens bestow such a terrifying preference on such a splendid girl?!

The Jin Family Head sighed, lamenting to the heavens.

Qing, utterly unfazed, asked,

“So, when the Martial Alliance’s support troops arrive—are we going in, then?”

“Hm. Regrettably... that won’t be possible.”

Jin Jagang shook his head.

“But those unorthodox bastards killed innocent people and pinned the blame on a fake curse!”

To this, the Jin Family Head gave a bitter smile.

“We already knew it was their scheme. Now we have witnesses, but it doesn’t change much. At most, they’ll just claim their subordinates acted on their own.”

He was explaining for Qing’s benefit.

His words mirrored the very conversation held in the Killing Moon Sect’s Sect Master’s chamber. As expected, a clan head of a great household was well-versed in such political strategies.

“So we’re just letting them go? Those bastards?”

Jin Jagang looked at the fuming Qing with warm, tender eyes.

She was getting angry on his behalf. That alone was admirable, heartwarming, and deeply appreciated.

If only he could make her his daughter-in-law.

But truthfully, none of his sons were decent enough to present to her without shame.

And he couldn’t very well take his senior Ye Gwanggyeon’s cherished disciple and adopt her as a daughter, either.

“They won’t be able to interfere with the reconstruction any longer. The Jin clan will rise again, stronger than before. And you know what they say—a man’s revenge is never late. When the time comes, I’ll be the first to stand at the front lines and grind every last one of those bastards into dust.”

Qing recalled the interrogation of the unorthodox bastards.

Unorthodox scum had no loyalty. None at all.

They’d ratted immediately, and all that remained was the Jin family’s catharsis, disguised as verifying the truth.

Mm. That had been fun.

Honestly, she hadn’t expected it—but the Jin clan folks could throw hands.

Still, Qing was unsatisfied.

Jin Jagang saw that expression—and smiled.

To an old man, the fire of youth was a blinding thing to behold.

“When the Martial Alliance’s support troops arrive, maybe we could launch an assault. But that would only lead to bloodshed among the Alliance’s warriors. We can’t demand blood from the Alliance’s young men just for the Jin clan’s revenge.”

A noble sentiment, truly.

As impressive as his performance had been when he pulverized the unorthodox bastards with his bare hands—he was right.

If it came to open war, there would inevitably be injury and death.

But this was Qing.

And if there was anyone more obsessive and malicious when it came to tormenting the wicked, it was her—Heaven’s own wicked woman.

“Clan Head. Then instead of a full assault... I’ve just had an idea...”