Chapter 222

I opened and closed my mouth, too stunned to speak.

Grandfather snorted.

“Hmph. After giving this old man so much trouble, did you expect me to spoon-feed you everything? Not a chance.”

He was right.

He was completely right, but still...!

“What if I can’t register?”

“Then you don’t enter.”

“I’m going on ahead, Grandfather!”

I let out a shrill cry and bolted down the slope in a panic.

I had no idea how I packed or prepared to leave.

I barely had time to exchange more than a few words with Songji before rushing out. By the time I boarded the ship bound for Chongqing, the morning sun was rising.

Unlike me, who looked as though my soul had left my body, Grandfather was perfectly relaxed.

“Geunmyeong. Bring me a gaiwan.”

“Yes, sir.”

That was because he had a trusted subordinate who would produce anything he asked for with a single word.

Grandfather sipped his tea, looking every inch a pampered young master from a distinguished household, even from a hundred paces away.

Perhaps because of that, even the slightest gesture from him drew people’s attention.

Grandfather apparently found the stares irritating too, because before long he covered his face with a veiled hat.

I glanced around, then cautiously asked,

“Grandfather. If the attention bothers you, wouldn’t it make more sense to hide the green robe rather than your face?”

“What for?”

His answer plainly asked why he would ever do such a thing.

I gave an awkward smile.

Grandfather turned his head toward me and said evenly,

“I put on the veil because I don’t want to be disturbed. It means, ‘Don’t bother greeting me just because you recognize me.’”

“Ah....”

“Take pride in the green robe. Your sect is worthy of anyone’s respect. I’ll be inside. Go look around if you like.”

He lightly patted my head, then leisurely turned toward the cabin.

The long shadow stretching behind his back seemed as immense as Mount Tai.

I watched him go and swallowed.

The confidence that anyone would naturally respect him simply because he wore that green robe.

The certainty that no one would dare offend him.

If anyone else had said those words, I might have thought them arrogant.

But from Grandfather, they carried a different weight.

I stood there blinking, dazed by the composure of an overwhelmingly powerful man who was accustomed to standing above others, until Uncle Geunmyeong called out to me.

“Child. Are you hungry? Shall I buy you some dumplings?”

“Let’s go together, Uncle.”

I answered and followed him.

The journey from Chongqing to Wuhan went smoothly.

The weather and wind favored us, and the ship picked up enough speed to set us down in Wuhan two whole days earlier than expected.

Naturally, the anxiety I had felt over possibly missing registration eased considerably.

With much lighter steps, I followed Grandfather ashore.

An elderly man who had been standing by the docks approached as though he had been waiting for us and respectfully clasped his hands toward Grandfather.

“Have you been well, Elder Tang?”

“Yes. It’s been a while. You are... hmm. I keep forgetting things now that I’m old. Who were you again?”

“I’m Ok-i, sir.”

“Ah, Ok-i? You’re still alive?”

“...Sir. I’m only sixty.”

The old man answered with a sigh in his voice, then quickly composed himself and gestured toward Martial Alliance headquarters.

“The Alliance Leader is waiting for you. I will escort you.”

“Very well.”

Grandfather nodded, then turned to me.

“I have some business to attend to. Go register and come back. We’ll meet at Dragon Gate Inn.”

“Yes. Have a good trip.”

I answered obediently.

Uncle Geunmyeong glanced between Grandfather and me, then quickly came over and whispered,

“Child, you know where headquarters is since you’ve been there before, yes? They should be taking applications at the south gate. The line will be long, so hurry and—”

“Let Sohae handle it herself.”

“Yes, sir.”

At Grandfather’s gesture, Uncle Geunmyeong retreated from me while glancing back anxiously.

The way he desperately tried to signal that I should not take it too personally nearly made me laugh.

He really was softhearted despite how he looked.

I shrugged and headed toward the south gate of Martial Alliance headquarters.

The registration area was practically a marketplace.

The line looked long enough to wrap around the entire headquarters, and all manner of wandering martial artists crowded the place.

“I said don’t cut in line! I was here first!”

“I only stepped away to relieve myself for a moment. What do you mean, cutting? Ridiculous. I’ve been standing here for three whole days!”

Some were even grabbing each other by the collars.

I casually sidestepped a man who came flying toward me and took my place at the very end of the line.

Judging by how slowly it was moving, I had a bad feeling I would be standing there until sunset.

“That’s it! You there, young hero in red. Starting with you, come back tomorrow!”

“What? How is that fair? I came all the way from Henan!”

“Then you should have arrived earlier. Do you think you’re the only one who traveled a long way? If you want to register, stop making a scene and leave.”

To make matters worse, they cut off the line immediately behind me.

The man in red looked furious, but apparently worried that angering the official might cost him his chance to enter the tournament, he muttered under his breath and turned away.

That was close.

I smacked my lips awkwardly and tightened my place in line.

Then a familiar voice reached my ears.

“Hey, brat!”

I turned around.

Beopgong was waving at me, his hair tied in a short tail.

“Monk Beopgong?”

“It really is the Tang brat. What are you doing here? You entering the tournament?”

Beopgong strode over and threw an arm around my shoulders.

At once, before I could think, my hand knocked his arm aside and shot toward one of his vital points.

I realized what I was doing and hurriedly pulled back.

Beopgong’s face went blank with surprise.

“...Brat. Did you just use a killing move on me?”

“No.”

“That pause before answering says otherwise. Wow. What happened to the little brat who used to force her throwing knives off course while whining, ‘But Monk, you’ll get hurt’? I can’t believe this cruel world.”

Clicking his tongue, he pressed down on my head as though my resistance were nothing more than a child’s tantrum.

“You’re not sulking because I didn’t accept your invitation, are you? I was busy because of our old Abbot. Honestly, you cheeky little thing, not even replying to an elder’s letter.”

“Who said I invited you? And I never even received a letter from you—ah! Ow! That’s heavy! Stop it!”

My head was being crushed down so hard it felt like my whole body was sinking into the ground, and irritation surged up inside me.

“Do you want to let go before all your hair melts off, or after?”

“Oh? Threats come naturally now. You really have grown up.”

“I’m twenty now, you know! Ah! Seriously! You damn monk, stop it already! Let go! Do you want a ventilation hole in your ring scar?”

“Hah. Before, it was funny watching you flail around desperately. Now I really do feel like I might end up with a hole in me, so it’s not quite as amusing.”

Beopgong laughed for a while as he kept teasing me, then looked puzzled.

“But why are you standing in line? The Tang Clan should have received formal invitations.”

“Grandfather told me to register on my own.”

“Ahh. I see. Old men really can’t stand seeing their disciples have it easy.”

He shook his head, folded his arms, and casually took a place beside me.

“What are you doing?”

“Waiting with you. It’s boring to wait alone. You don’t look like you have any friends.”

“...You don’t have any friends either.”

“What? Hey. I have plenty of friends.”

His voice boomed so loudly that everyone in line turned to look at us at once.

The commotion even drew the registration official over with a frown.

The moment he recognized Beopgong, he hurried forward and asked in a startled voice,

“Master Beopgong. What brings you here...?”

“Don’t mind me. I know the girl.”

“I see. Then perhaps we can process her registration first—”

“No need. She can wait. Go back to your work. I have no intention of interfering.”

Beopgong waved him off and sent him back, then looked at me with a grin.

“Brat. I really do have lots of friends. Want me to prove it?”

“No thanks. I’m sure all your friends are people just like you.”

“There’s one over there. Hey, Jegal Cheon!”

Ignoring my answer completely, Beopgong waved toward a group passing nearby.

They were members of the Jegal Clan dressed in scholar’s robes.

At Beopgong’s shout, the tallest man in the group stopped, tilted his head, then approached us.

“Well, if it isn’t the damn monk. What are you doing standing here?”

“Babysitting. Hey, perfect timing. Come meet our brat.”

“What kind of nonsense is that? Our brat?”

The man’s gaze shifted to me.

I gave him an awkward nod under his curious stare.

He looked to be in his mid-thirties.

With broad, clear-cut features, he had the kind of face most people would find immediately likable.

Beopgong pointed at him.

“Brat, this is the Young Clan Head of the Jegal Clan. He’s incredibly stupid.”

“To be called stupid by a damn monk.... It makes me reflect on my life. But what might the name of this lovely young lady of the Tang Clan be...?”

“She’s the Poison King’s disciple. I raised her about one percent.”

“Ah...! So you’re the famous Poison Butterfly!”

I stared at Beopgong in disbelief.

“When exactly did you raise me? Stop spouting nonsense.”

“Fine. Half a percent.”

Seriously, this man.

We had not seen each other in years, and he was already claiming a stake in my upbringing.

Jegal Cheon waited until I turned back toward him, then met my eyes and greeted me formally.

“I have long heard of Miss Tang’s renown. I am Cheon, Young Clan Head of the Jegal Clan.”

“This junior of the martial world, Tang Sohae, greets Young Clan Head Jegal. Please speak comfortably. You are a friend of Monk Beopgong, after all.”

Jegal Cheon did not bother refusing even once.

He laughed heartily.

“Shall I? Then you speak comfortably too. I’m a little old for you to call me Brother. How about Uncle Jegal?”

“Well... I’m not sure. That doesn’t sound like a particularly fortunate title. I doubt you’re eager to become sworn brothers with the Tang Clan Head.”

“...That was my mistake. Let’s pretend I never said it.”

Jegal Cheon’s expression turned grave as he fanned himself and frowned.

I looked away, struggling not to laugh.

It seemed he did not care much for Tang Muheok either.