Chapter 382

If some very idle noble person were to gather data on the fighting styles of martial artists, they’d discover an interesting fact: over half of it takes place in taverns.

Surprisingly, you’d rarely find restaurants, and in tea houses, people act all proper as if they have some kind of agreement.

Truth be told, it’s only natural.

Restaurants have set prices.

If guests are wealthy money bags, picking a fight could lead to a major disaster.

And tea houses? Well.

No one going there would be careless enough to draw a weapon while enjoying a cup of tea.

But taverns? Anyone can walk in.

In the martial world’s terms, it’s a place where even dogs and cows might drop by.

And fights among martial artists usually express superiority.

How dare you not treat me with more respect when I’m clearly superior?

So, when a member of the Great Hero Alliance of the Martial World, in all his black-grade combat glory, tells a lowly tavern girl to spread her legs and let him plant his superior seed, it’s only natural that she’s supposed to comply.

But because she wasn’t keen on that idea, a fight breaks out.

From the perspective of the gangster group, you could say it’s a pretty justified rage.

I am a member of the Great Hero Alliance of the Martial World!

The Great Hero Alliance of the Martial World!

For short, the Sado Sect!

One characteristic of those in the gangster world is that, aside from those without affiliations, it’s rare to see them go solo.

A few members of the Black Hawk Group enjoying a friendly gathering got a bit overboard and decided to harass a beautiful traveling musician, but when it didn’t go their way, they surrounded her and pulled weapons, threatening her to strip right there! Oh no! A table woven of a hundred strands!

A tavern employee, hiding behind the back of the kitchen counter, let out a sad scream while trying to explain the situation.

Qing, who was leaning in to listen, nodded.

“They deserve to be killed, for sure.”

“Exactly! Scum like them, we should just castrate them all!”

Unfortunately for Qing, when she entered the tavern, the lowly traveling musician was giving the gang members a thorough beatdown, like grinding dried fish.

Hmm. I thought I’d see some blood today.

But seeing her smack them around, it didn’t seem like a bloody scene.

Plus, it was an unusual fight against a master of unique techniques.

Qing watched in excitement as she learned from Jeomsoi, who had been watching beforehand.

The seniors in Jianghu always warned to be careful of children, women, and the elderly.

Their advice repeated in the listener’s ears so much it felt like a thick earwax coating, with every Jianghu senior giving a word of advice.

Because no matter how much you emphasize it, no one seems to heed it.

If a beautiful traveling musician has the confidence to roam Jianghu with that beauty, it must mean something.

But men tend to think with their, well, lower halves!

Especially since they’ve got one head but two lower parts; that’s why a man can never refuse the orders of those lower parts.

Then if they mess with the wrong person, it’s just like this.

The woman grabs the man’s hair and slams him against the table.

And the gangster, rushing in with a dagger, but whoosh, the wide skirt billows out like flower petals.

This is a type of technique called Yuynguk, characterized by hiding your body within a wide, fluttering skirt while fighting.

“Damn it! I’m going to kill you!”

Finally, the gangsters drew their swords.

Then, just when the tips of the fluttering skirt brushed below a gangster’s chin, there came a slicing sound.

Wait, slicing?

Qing frowned, not out of annoyance but because she wasn’t focusing properly, trying to see what was happening more clearly.

Only then did she notice the gleam of a sharp blade attached to the tips of the woman’s shoes.

The gangster, caught by the neck, rolled on the ground.

Another one, waiting for the chance.

The woman spun like a top, and her skirt flew up in three layers, hiding her form completely.

Whenever the skirt opened, there would always be screams accompanied by someone rolling on the ground clutching their wounds.

Then one of them swung their sword happily at the blooming flower, but the fine silk merely fluttered, and the woman’s body lay flat down.

And there, a powerful kick surged between the gangster’s legs! The blade attached to her toes!

“Wow.” “Whoa.” “Nice job!”

Qing and Jeomsoi couldn’t help but wince at the horrific spectacle.

Only Woo Na-ram, unaware of that pain, cheered loudly.

Did she notice Woo Na-ram’s cheers? The wandering musician suddenly turned towards him, winked, and blew a kiss with the tips of her fingers.

Even in the midst of a fight, she was exuding confidence.

“You’re dead!”

Out of nowhere, a gangster charged in, lifting the Yuyeop Dao in both hands like a fine piece of pottery—

Bang!!

It sounded like a hammer striking iron.

Time seemed to rewind, as the gangster’s hand shot back up.

The thin blade of the Yuyeop Dao twisted and waved, producing a bizarre sound.

The gangster couldn’t handle the sharpness and struggled, looking like a man performing a dance he should never do.

It was that dance known as Yingyi (〇二) from Qing’s hometown.

“Lady.”

With that silly display, Qing couldn’t help but lose her composure.

And she quickly grabbed a handful of chopsticks with one hand, flinging them one after the other.

What flew were chopsticks, but with each *swish*, they had the force of a powerful crossbow.

“Watch out! There’s a master—”

One gangster tried to warn, but the toe of his foot met the temple, where the hidden blade dug deep.

With a true master of combat alongside, and fiercely throwing chopsticks with a will, the situation escalated.

Woo Na-ram joined in, drawing his sword and unleashing slashing sword waves.

Hey, how long do you think a mid-level black-grade combat team, without the deputy leader, could last against all this?

The last gangster fell to the ground, finally defeated.

If he had put up a fight, maybe it would’ve looked better, but he ended up fleeing with his back to them, and a chopstick sticking out of his neck—how embarrassing!

Afterward, the wandering musician approached Qing for a salute.

With palms crossed in a straight line, covering her mouth as she bowed her head slightly and bent her knees in the second most respectful way a woman could greet.

By the way, the highest form of respect is reserved for emperors, teachers, parents, and during offerings to heaven, making it essentially the most polite greeting possible.

“Na Yang-gyeol of the Cheonhwa Jeondang greets the worthy lady warrior! If it’s not too much trouble, could I learn your honorable name?”

Qing realized the woman’s misunderstanding.

She was treating her like a seasoned master and thought she had such profound inner strength, after being forced to stop a child’s pitiful dance while also fending off chopsticks!

Generally, female masters are a bit older, which is why she mistakes Qing in her head for a senior from Jianghu.

“There’s no need to be so formal. I’m Seomun Qing from the Divine Maiden Sect.”

“Seomun Qing? The owner of the Cheonhwa Sword?”

“I’m called that, though I’m just an unworthy individual.”

Upon hearing that, for some reason, the woman’s expression soured.

“Hmm. So you are the Cheonhwa Sword. How about we move to a different spot? I was actually looking for you.”

—-

Cheonhwa Jeondang means “a manor of a thousand flowers,” referring to a mysterious sect made up solely of women.

In terms of fame, Amifa ranks first, Cheonhwa Jeondang sits in second, and the Divine Maiden Sect follows in third.

After moving to a room, Na Yang-gyeol breathed out deeply.

“Actually, the reason I came to Nammyeong is to meet the owner of the Cheonhwa Sword.”

“Me?”

Na Yang-gyeol hesitated before speaking up.

“We from the Cheonhwa Jeondang have called the Zhang Disciple the Cheonhwa (천화) for quite some time now. The first leader was called Ji-hwa, and the third leader, Sam- In-hwa.”

“Hmm. But why?”

“Although they’re written differently, strictly speaking, *hwa* (花) and *hwa* (華) are the same character, right? So the moniker you use, Cheonhwa Sword, becomes problematic for us at the Cheonhwa Jeondang. Even though it might not be your intention, since our sect’s name includes Cheonhwa, if the Cheonhwa Sword has the honor of being named, you surely understand what I mean?”

“Ah.”

Qing let out a sound of discomfort.

That is indeed a problem.

If a female master were to have a nickname like the Divine Maiden Sword or the Yohi Sword, what would happen to the Divine Maiden Sect, which offers sacrifice to Yohi in their Taoist Temple? Or, if someone claimed the Hwasan’s Blade had nothing to do with Hwasan, and a swordsman named the Shaolin Divine Sword, that would create quite the predicament as well.

Of course, no one would dare to provoke famous sects.

But still, since there are occasionally less famous female warriors under the Divine Maiden sect, while not lacking strength, it feels like a curse to be less known.

“I suppose I’ll need to change my nickname. But how does one change it…?”

Na Yang-gyeol shook her head.

“Before that, may I confirm your face, Young Lady?”

“What?”

“Our leader said to confirm whether or not you’re deserving of the title Cheonhwa. If *hwa-joong-cheonhwa*, which means the most beautiful flower, is true, the sect will gladly praise the finest beauty of the age.”

“That’s! Isn’t that too much?!”

Woo Na-ram, who had been listening, burst out loudly.

With that phrase, they indirectly suggested that if the Cheonhwa Sword isn’t the world’s beauty, then the title can’t be accepted, and she must change it. But who exactly gets to decide who’s the most beautiful?

For the Han people, larger breasts might symbolize ignorance, lewdness, and evil (though no one denies that), yet for the Zhang people, breast size is a vital part of a woman’s beauty!

Look at the martial world’s five beauties.

Some prefer beauties like Hyun-hwa, who have wild and fierce looks, alongside those who like the delicately weak beauty of Seol-hwa, like Qing.

Or perhaps a gentle look, like Hwan-hwa, who seems cute in appearance, or Geom-hwa, who’s a bit brazen yet endearing. Each has followers differing in taste.

Then there’s the traditional beauty, like the unremarkable Bai-he of solid features.

Beauty really isn’t a thing that can be quantified; how could Cheonhwa Jeondang decide who is worthy and who isn’t?

So, saying words like “recognition” is just a way to imply they want her to change it.

This is why Na-ram got fired up.

“Ayy, Na-ram. But you know, the people from Cheonhwa Jeondang feel a certain way too. Imagine if my title started with Gui-rim-sword; how awkward would it be for the Gye-rim Sword Faction?”

“Hmph…! See! Brother! This Na-ram! I’m deeply moved! Truly moved! Even more than that! What a true hero is, right here! Such broad-mindedness! Such a big heart! A heart so vast it could hold the entire world!”

Well. I know there’s no ill intent in it.

But he keeps going on about it unendingly.

I’m not coveting the likes of Na-ram, but still, it’d be nice to take a glance or two.

Maybe I should make a quick stop in Sichuan on my way home.

“Thank you for understanding. To be honest, it’s a bit embarrassing for me to mention this, but regarding the nickname, we’ll discuss it with the Martial Alliance and sort it out—”

Na Yang-gyeol, who could not hide her apologetic nature and overflowed with excuses, suddenly stopped talking.

With a dazed expression, as if she were drunk, or witnessing something unbelievable, she stared.

It must have been the negative effects of seeing Qing’s divine beauty after she pulled her mask down.

“Me, Young Lady?”

Na Yang-gyeol snapped back to her senses and nodded seriously.

“As the one authorized by our leader, Cheonhwa Jeondang acknowledges you as qualified for the title of *hwa-joong-cheonhwa*. Indeed, the Number One in the World must have the utmost discerning eye, and if Seomun Young Lady isn’t considered Cheonhwa, then who else in this world would be?”

“Huh?”

What? Is this a sudden resolution to the issue?

Qing blinked in astonishment as Na Yang-gyeol fixed her gaze firmly on Qing.

“Seomun Young Lady, however, I do have another request, and please don’t misunderstand.”

“What is it?”

Na Yang-gyeol replied.

“Please become my partner. I’ve fallen for you.”

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