Chapter 395

Qing looked up at a distance.

The plaque that read “Jin Gajang” was once emblazoned in gold but now tilted and marred with blood.

The plaque is the face of the sect.

With the face all skewed, how could the once-closed great gate show any signs of life, let alone the disciples guarding it? It felt eerily desolate.

What’s going on? Did I come to the wrong place?

Is this even the Jin Gajang I’m looking for?

Well, there’s only one Jin family in the Central Plain, I guess.

Qing doesn’t know it yet, but surnames are singular in this world; they all share the same characters, making this Jin clan indeed unique.

Didn’t some big-eared guy who used to sell mats claim to be of royal lineage?

But it’s not about tracing ancestors; it’s all about the current real estate that counts, so same surname or not, it won’t give you any freebies.

It’s friendlier than with a stranger, though.

“Oy, girl. You’re in big trouble if you stay there.”

Someone called out, and Qing turned to see an unfamiliar grandmother wearing a serious expression.

“Huh? Why?”

“You’re under a heavy curse. If you get caught up in it, you’ll be dealt the same fate. That clan has already devoured hundreds.”

“A curse? What did they do to deserve it?”

When it comes to curses, the bloodline of the Han people tends to think of it as divine retribution for sin.

It’s rare for a people who seek the cause of misfortune outside themselves; that’s pretty moral, in a way.

But in the primitive, ancient Central Plain, curses are just nasty disasters that happen if you’re unlucky.

“What’s the cause of the curse? There are plenty of people praying for the downfall of prosperous families. If you happen to get tangled up with a powerful one, this is what happens. Tsk tsk.”

“Hmm. What do you mean?”

“Death. It’s a case of the dead firmly stuck around here. If you get involved with that family, you’ll be in mourning.”

In the grandmother’s eyes was a strange light, a glimmer of madness.

Just then, Qing swallowed hard.

“Ah, Mother! Sorry! Sorry!”

“What? Who are you? I need to find my son.”

“Mother! It’s me, Dong!”

“Oh, my second child. Dong, go find your brother. It’s already past the hour, and Dong-yi must be hungry.”

The sun was high in the sky, hardly breakfast, yet.

The man kept bending at the waist.

“Sir, my mother’s not quite herself since we lost our firstborn. Please don’t take her anger to heart and forgive us with your generous nature.”

“Oh. It’s all right. Isn’t your mother going that way? Shouldn’t you follow her?”

“Thank you! Mother! Oh, where are you going?”

“I heard you shouldn’t call out for a name when presenting it, but here you are, doing carpentry! Hmm? Is it you, Dong? Haven’t you seen your brother?”

Looks like she’s not all there.

Qing looked up at the tilted Jin Gajang sign again.

The grandmother’s chilling gaze, curses, death looming. It sent shivers down his spine.

At that moment, dark clouds rolled in, blocking the sun and casting an eerie shade over the area…

Creeeak.

The door let out a weird sound, slowly creaking open.

“Oh.”

Qing stepped back without realizing it.

A person is finished once they’re severed, but ghosts don’t cut that easily.

In a world where humans harness the mysterious energy of the universe to soar and split cliffs, who’s to say curses or ghosts don’t exist?

Qing tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword as a face emerged through the door—an elegant traditional beauty.

Isn’t she stunning for a ghost?

“Who… are you?”

“Jin Young Lady! It’s me! Seomun Qing.”

Qing said as he lifted his veil.

Jin Seol’s eyes widened in surprise.

—-

After greeting the weary-looking Jin Gaju, Qing sat down to a late lunch.

He’d skipped it in his rush.

The Martial Alliance’s deadline was until winter.

And now it was early February.

So, there were just under two months left.

You might ask why there was just under two months left in early February—it’s a leap year, meaning two Februaries this year.

Lunar calendars generally need an extra month every couple of years and a half.

So, he rushed over and arrived in Gwangju just as lunch time passed.

“What’s going on?”

“While we were at the Martial World Tournament, the Blood Sect attacked the main family. The situation was dire as the bodies were just left there. I didn’t expect the stench of rotten flesh would linger this long.”

“Rotten flesh?” That’s the liquid that comes from decaying human corpses.

The one liquid carpenters despise the most.

Once it seeps in, it’s nearly impossible to get rid of the stains or the smell.

So, if a corpse is left in a room, you must evacuate before starting renovations.

“The Blood Sect? Then what about the Martial Alliance?”

“They said they’d send support, but the main family decided to postpone it for now.”

“Huh? Why?”

“We’re not in a position to host guests right now, so we decided to sort out the manor first and prepare to receive guests after that…”

But the issue was they couldn’t fix the manor.

Workers kept dying on the job, as the Blood Sect’s vile curse had fallen upon Jin Gajang.

So, they couldn’t even hire new workers, let alone find servants.

The people who had come to serve for the Martial Tournament were it.

“A curse, you say.”

As Jin Seol shook her head.

Anger flashed across her beautiful face against the backdrop of the Central Plain’s charms.

“Where is there any curse in the world? The Sapa folks are playing tricks, and no one’s catching on. Now that things have escalated, it feels like a real curse has set in.”

At first, they thought it was a real curse.

So, they brought in shamans, monks, and even maidens to ward it off, they say.

But the deaths of workers didn’t stop.

Then they figured the Sapa sect was sowing chaos by spreading cheap elixirs, blocking the work, causing even more deaths.

It’s not a curse; it was those bastards’ doing!

“Those guys need to be wiped out completely.”

Qing frowned deeply.

Jin Seol nodded in agreement.

“It took too long to figure it out.”

The Central Plain’s people have a primordial instinct for superstition.

No, the Central Plain itself is superstition; superstition is the Central Plain.

Just look at Qing’s hometown.

Even though the Red People’s private army burned away all the outdated traditions and evils to open a new era.

They couldn’t touch superstition, the Chinese national identity and pride, and left it for the descendants.

So now that it’s rumored that it’s cursed, who would dare step onto that ground?

“Um, Jin Young Lady? By the way, a support unit from the Martial Alliance is set to arrive soon.”

“What? Why?”

Qing explained the situation in detail.

What happened in Guangxi.

Thanks to a delay in the Martial Alliance’s support unit, the initial problems were resolved sooner, and they decided to send them to Jin Gajang as soon as they arrived.

“Who are we supposed to show this to?”

Jin Seol stomped her foot anxiously.

“Hmm. What if we break the superstition? If we say someone worked without issue, then shouldn’t people think the curse is gone? What if we just let workers stay inside the manor?”

“Yeah, that should have been done already.”

That meant it was too late.

So Qing asked.

“Then, is the construction halted now? That means the materials should still be there, right?”

“Yeah. It’s all quality materials just taking up space.”

“Then we can fix the manor.”

Qing replied nonchalantly.

Jin Seol raised her eyebrows skeptically.

“Did you hear what I said? You said there’s no way to proceed? Carpenters are sensitive folks; if you call them from afar, they might just refuse and leave.”

But Qing was relaxed.

“Oh, we’ve got a skilled carpenter around here.”

Jin Seol blinked in surprise.

“Who?”

Qing pointed to himself.

“Me. Seomun Qing. Oh wait, I’m also known as the First Carpenter of Hunan.”

In the Central Plain, professions aren’t so gender-specific in a beautifully peculiar way.

If a fisherman has a daughter, she becomes a fisherman too; a farmer’s daughter is a farmer, and a carpenter’s daughter becomes a carpenter.

It’s just that it’s tough and tiring work requiring strength and endurance, so women don’t often do it for long.

In the Central Plain, a wife or concubine is regarded as part of their husband’s profession.

So, it’s not too surprising to hear that Cheonhwa-geom has some skills in carpentry.

“You say you can do carpentry?”

Jin Gaju’s Jin Jagang doesn’t look much like a typical warrior.

If you had to describe him, he looks like an ink-stained scholar with a bony face, like a bamboo stalk.

First impression? Whoa, a professor!

But surprisingly, his speech was gentle, and he shook his head when Qing asked him to lower his tone.

If speech is casual, so are people, he thought, why would he treat a guest rudely?

That one sentence revealed Jin Jagang’s character.

“I can do ten men’s worth of work in carpentry, so if the Jin family pitches in a bit, we should have no trouble working through it. I’ve already checked the materials; just cover them properly with tarps to keep them intact.”

“I understand it’s not right to ask my guests for help, but I must be rude and ask for your assistance. I’ll count on you.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. However, Gaju, isn’t it a bit boring just to proceed with the construction? So I want to suggest something…”

Qing laid out his grand plan.

Jin Jagang’s eyes lit up with interest.

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