Qing waved her face veil side to side as she greeted the guests.
âWell, well. Arenât these our friends?â
â...?â
âYes, what brings you all the way here? What business do you have at this crumbling metal shop?â
The thugs hesitated.
Whatâs this? Does she know us? Why is she acting friendly?
Is she one of us? Perhaps sheâs from the Unorthodox Path?
âUm, who might you be...â
âWould you know who I am if I told you? Come on. So. Why are you here? I havenât been in this neighborhood long, so I donât know whatâs going on.â
In fact, thugs also have a sort of script prepared for when the other party takes a strong stance.
If Qing had shouted something like âYou scum, what are you doing to innocent civilians!â as an orthodox martial artist might, the thugs would have had a manual for how to respond.
We are the virtuous experts of the Namen Sect!
If you mess with us, the Namen Sect wonât stand idle, and if the Namen Sect doesnât stand idle, all the unorthodox factions in the city wonât stand idle, and if all the unorthodox factions in the city donât stand idle, the government officials who took our bribes wonât stand idle either!
They were prepared to recite something like this in a rough tone mixed with curses.
But to confidently act friendly?
This was often the attitude shown by infamous Demonic Adepts to cute unorthodox faction saplings.
Of course, Demonic Adepts donât act friendly because they find the juniors cute.
Usually, itâs to exploit them.
This was how the seniors and juniors of the Unorthodox Faction typically behaved.
Thatâs why the thugs became even more tense.
âWell, we are martial artists of the Namen Sect, but.â
âNamen Sect? Ramen Sect? Little Brother, can you explain?â
âThe Namen Sect, a group that flourished about ten years ago, I heard their leader is a leper. I believe I heard his realm is Transcendent.â
âAh. That Namen Sect? Ah, I want to eat ramen.â
Zhuge Ihyeon scratched his chin.
No matter how he thought about it, he had never heard of a dish called ramen.
But originally, the Central Plains were so vast that if one were to count local dishes, one couldnât name them all even if they spoke of them from birth to death.
And Zhuge Ihyeon didnât hold back when he was curious.
To be precise, he couldnât hold back when he was curious.
âNoonim, I havenât heard of a dish called ramen, but which regionâs food is it?â
âHmm. I heard they call it lamian around here.â
âAh, a dialect. I understand.â
The Namen Sect martial artists froze even more upon seeing Zhuge Ihyeon.
Originally, the less skilled a martial artist was, the more they cared about the other partyâs level of External Arts.
Of course, since the criteria for judging External Arts for low-class martial artists without discernment was size and muscle, a huge muscle man was already no different from a Supreme Master.
And to be the Noonim of such a Supreme Master!
âSo. Whatâs the matter?â
âWell, that old man dared to defy the Namen Sectâs orders, so we came to teach him a lesson...â
âTeach him a lesson? Can you explain in more detail?â
The Namen Sect martial artists, overwhelmed by Zhuge Ihyeon, obediently revealed their purpose.
There was also a reason why Qing had acted in a somewhat friendly manner.
Old Man Ban is the best craftsman in Zhumadian.
In fact, itâs a bit ambiguous to say heâs the best in Zhumadian, as he was one of the top master craftsmen even if you expanded the range to the entire Henan Province.
However, the master craftsmanâs specialty was limited to agricultural tools and the like.
No matter how excellent an ironsmith is, they canât make masterpieces if the field is different.
If a master of swordsmanship picks up a half-sword, they might be able to swing it roughly, but they couldnât be called a master of the half-sword, could they?
The problem was that a sword Old Man Ban made in his youth had been discovered.
And it was said to be a truly excellent sword.
In other words, Old Man Ban wasnât unable to make swords, he was unwilling to make them!
Skilled sword craftsmen are precious people that sects compete to recruit.
If martial artists are perfectly equal in skill, the difference that determines victory or defeat would be the superiority of their weapons.
Even if not, martial artistsâ interest in better weapons was something that even masters of Fist Arts couldnât hide.
And the excellent sword craftsman of Zhumadian should rightfully be taken by the Namen Sect, the Unorthodox Faction leaders of the city.
âSo you want to take Old Man Ban away?â
âNo, we gave up on that long ago. That old man is so stubborn...â
Old Man Ban had sworn not to make weapons.
If you stab the heart with this, blood enters through the hole and gushes out, creating a spectacular scene.
This was what was happening in Qingâs hand right now.
Blood spurted out regularly from each air hole of the Bokshinjeok, matching the heartbeat.
The stickiness wetting her hand was something she hadnât felt in a long time.
The blood touching her hand, always cold due to Demonic Arts, felt so hot it might burn.
Qing couldnât control her expression, her mouth corners pulled up to her ears in a vicious smile.
It was fortunate she was wearing a face veil.
Zhuge Ihyeon frowned at this sight.
âUgh, Noonim. Isnât it unpleasant to have blood enter the flute?â
âItâs fine if you wash it well. What. Should a martial artist be picky about weapons?â
âEven if you try to gloss over it with such cool words, the Bokshinjeok wasnât originally a weapon. But!â
Zhuge Ihyeon suddenly spat out his words.
âAs expected, your flowery and bewitching eloquence is still the same! To make the enemy spill information without any kind of torture or coercion! This dull brother is moved! Moved again! I was starting to suspect recently that you might just be a stupid woman, but you shatter my foolish thoughts completely!â
âWhatâs this? Why do I feel like shit even though it seems like Iâm being praised?â
Anyway, Qing was very satisfied after getting a proper taste of this feeling in her hand after a long time.
Piercing through soft skin and tough heart muscle, she got to taste both weak and rough sensations simultaneously.
And stabbing with the Bokshinjeok made blood gush out, Oh, itâs a complete rediscovery of the flute.
It was a discovery that would make Ban Chi weep tears of blood in the afterlife.
The groupâs level of force was too excessive for dealing with mere neighborhood Unorthodox Faction dregs.
The one who ran for the door had his head pierced by Gyeon Poheeâs finger-pointing, with some contents leaking out.
The one who tried to escape alone was in a slightly better state, with Tang Nanahâs whip wrapped around his neck, his eyes rolled back and foaming at the mouth.
âWhy did that one faint?â
âFire ant poison entered his arteries. He probably felt like his whole body was on fire.â
âHmm.â
On second thought, he might be the most pitiful.
Thatâs when it happened.
âYou damned baSTARDDDDDD!â
Old Man Ban suddenly charged with bloodshot eyes, raising a huge hammer high above his head in the familiar posture Qing had just seen.
In that direction lay the martial artist foaming at the mouth, with the whip wrapped around his neck like a scarf.
Qing gracefully flew with the ultimate form of the Divine Maiden Footwork, Spatial Leap, to block in front of the old man.
âWait, grandpa.â
âGet out of the way, Iâm going to smash that bastardâs skull to pieces! That damn bastard!â
âI understand how you feel, but for someone who said they wonât make swords, is it okay to kill people with a hammer?â
âBut that bastard, that bastard...!â
âAh. It canât be helped. Be satisfied with this.â
Qing placed the sole of her shoe on top of the fallen Unorthodox Faction martial artistâs head.
Her knee trembled for a moment as she applied force, and finally, Crunch.
In fact, from the moment Qing said it couldnât be helped, her expression behind the face veil was already blooming with a wide smile.
Qing staggered for a moment as if she had lost her balance.
To her companions, it looked as if she had been shocked by the sensation.
Of course, she was shocked.
Wow... This is really amazing. How long has it been?
Hmm, it must have been too stimulating after such a long time.
I wonder how many spare underwear I packed.
Choi Leeongâs foresight in preparing the face veil was shining brilliantly, emitting a dazzling radiance like the sun.
But good things are good things, and having sticky shoe soles is doubly unpleasant.
Qing dragged the soles of her shoes across a clean part of the floor.
Old Man Ban, who had witnessed the Namen Sect martial artistâs miserable death, stared blankly at the corpse instead of reflecting.
Then he hacked up phlegm and spat it out with a Ptui between the broken remains.
Seeing this, Qing spoke up again.
âGrandpa, donât we have something to talk about too?â
At this, Old Man Ban subtly averted his gaze.
Qing took a crooked stance and continued her questioning.
âYou said this wasnât a matter of just a day or two, right? You must have known these guys would rush in if you lit a fire.â
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