Chapter 46: The Wind Blows (1)
“Buuuurp!”
He let out such a massive burp that it felt like his soul might escape through his mouth.
“Wow, I’m stuffed! I ate so much I might actually die.”
Yeon Ji-pyeong gaped like a fish.
“Ah, isn’t it miraculous you’re still alive?”
“Huh? Hehehe! Young Master Lee, you underestimate me too much. A beggar’s stomach far surpasses that of ordinary folk. Even now with smaller portions, I could easily devour twelve geun* of pork in my youth.” (*approx. 7.2 kg)
Yeon Ji-pyeong’s weight hovered around 600 pounds. Ga Deuk-sang had eaten over ten percent of his body weight.
Yeon Ji-pyeong shuddered. It took effort to feel disgusted just from watching someone eat.
Yeon Ho-jeong pointed at the rice bowl.
“Three grains remain.”
“Consider it a gesture of restraint!”
“Finish them.”
Ga Deuk-sang smacked his lips.
“So strict.”
He slurped up the remaining grains. It was remarkable how he savored each one despite his distended belly.
“Care for tea?”
“Tea for a beggar? Unless it’s liquor.”
“It’s broad daylight.”
“Since when does drinking care for night or day? How peculiar.”
Yeon Ho-jeong snorted despite himself.
Ga Deuk-sang grinned slyly.
“Now that I recall, our Young Master Lee here holds his liquor well too?”
Yeon Ji-pyeong waved his hand irritably.
“The next day’s suffering wasn’t worth it! The drinking’s fun, but the aftermath...”
“Hahaha! True mastery of alcohol lies in embracing even the hangover! You’ve merely taken your first steps, Young Master.”
“Is... is that so?”
Yeon Ho-jeong cut in sharply.
“Stop filling his head with nonsense.”
“Nonsense? This is wisdom! Your words cut deep, sir.”
“Enough.”
Yeon Ho-jeong turned to his brother.
“Fetch wine from the stores. And make yourself scarce.”
“Of course!”
Yeon Ji-pyeong had sensed Ga Deuk-sang’s private business from the start. The guest chamber held only two men now.
Ga Deuk-sang theatrically scanned the room.
“Your clan’s atmosphere could freeze fire. New policy?”
“Always been rigid. Not exactly lively.”
“Well, the Yeon family’s ruthless discipline is legendary.”
“That famous?”
“Among beggars. Other clans might not know.”
The Beggars’ Sect monopolized such intelligence—unsurprising for an organization controlling the underworld’s information flow.
“Any recent troubles? This seems excessive even for you.”
“Nothing special.”
“Nothing? Then why do servants fold like paper when you pass? Saw one nearly snap his spine bowing.”
“Our household prides itself on propriety.”
“Looked more like terror to me. Thought a vengeful spirit was passing through.”
“What can I say? I’m deficient in humanity.”
Ga Deuk-sang chuckled.
“Forgive my prying. Occupational habit.”
“Understood.”
When wine arrived, Ga Deuk-sang proved himself monstrous anew. He sampled side dishes before drinking—unthinkable for someone claiming fullness.
Yeon Ho-jeong lifted the bottle.
“A cup for you.”
“Why bother? Just hand me the bottle.”
“......”
Ga Deuk-sang drank directly from the vessel like a waterskin.
“Kyah! Good stuff! Better than Yeoahong—burn’s already crawling down my throat!”
“It’s potent. Pace yourself.”
“Aye. We’ve much to discuss.”
Yeon Ho-jeong’s eyes gleamed.
As Ga Deuk-sang met those abyssal pupils, he thought:
This man...
Different.
The beggar had met countless power players shaping the martial world. Yet Yeon Ho-jeong’s gaze held depths matching those titans—not from martial prowess or virtue, but the man himself.
Truly incomprehensible.
Ga Deuk-sang had investigated discreetly. Yeon Ho-jeong’s past offered nothing—an heir raised under a strict father, eclipsed by his brother’s talent before suddenly transforming. No secret societies, no manufactured scandals. Like he’d fallen from heaven fully formed.
“Something on my face?”
“Hm? Ah, no! Just admiring your handsome features.”
“How bland.”
“Bland? That brooding gaze alone could captivate every maiden in the realm!”
“Enough. To business.”
“Heh. Very well.”
Ga Deuk-sang interlaced his fingers on the table.
“First request: The Western Wastes remain unremarkable. Little Temple of Thunder’s lifting its seclusion, but they pose no threat to the Central Plains.”
Yeon Ho-jeong’s eyes deepened.
“No heretic cults disturbing the people? Like the fallen Demon Cult?”
“None. Strangely quiet—might be why those Temple oddballs chose now to emerge.”
A nod.
Not yet, then.
The Beggars’ intelligence network spanned beyond the Central Plains. Had there been whispers, Ga Deuk-sang would know.
“Second matter: Murong Yu’s location.”
“Proceed.”
“As said before, finding the Murong leader’s half-brother wasn’t hard.”
“Speak.”
“But first—why does the Yeon heir seek the disgraced Murong sibling?”
Murong Yu—twenty-nine to his fifty-year-old brother Murong Jun, separated by two decades and different mothers.
“You’ll learn in time.”
“When time decides to inform me, eh?”
“Naturally.”
Ga Deuk-sang scrutinized Yeon Ho-jeong’s impassive face.
Unreadable.
No tells in eyes, lips, posture—nothing. Remarkable for one so young.
“Very well.”
Ga Deuk-sang produced a pristine letter from his rags.
“Zhejiang Province.”
“Jiangsu’s neighbor.”
“Maritime trade.”
“Indeed. Murong Yu manages Zhejiang’s branch, handling sea commerce that funds ten percent of their entire clan. Extraordinary—singlehandedly generating that through normal trade? Impossible.”
“The man’s exceptional. Suppressed by his clan, but his martial talent rivals Murong Jun’s. His virtue? Worthy of leadership itself.”
Naturally.
Yeon Ho-jeong remembered Murong Yu’s final night—begging the Black Blade’s master to protect his brother even after being exiled as a threat. Talent and humility rare as phoenix feathers.
...Like us.
The parallel to Yeon Ho-jeong and Ji-pyeong struck him. Had he possessed talent, he might’ve discarded his brother too. In this, Murong Jun mirrored him.
Thus we need Murong Yu. Only he can stop them.
Yeon Ho-jeong knew his limits.
Becoming Black Emperor had been possible because the Black Path thrived on raw violence. The White martial world differed.
I must be shadow, shield, spear, and architect—never sovereign.
Ga Deuk-sang sighed.
“Murong Jun’s terrifying. Few abandon kin for power.”
“Really?”
Yeon Ho-jeong had seen parents slaughter children for ambition. Murong Jun wasn’t special.
“Regardless, two requests fulfilled.”
“My thanks.”
“My pleasure. Learned much myself. Now, the third...”
Ga Deuk-sang’s face hardened.
“Answer this—how did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That the Illustrious Ming Clan secretly trains Death Blades?”
Yeon Ho-jeong’s eyes erupted with killing intent.
Confirmed.
After Myeong Ho-rim’s attack, he’d recognized the Ming techniques. But stolen manuals could explain it. Until now.
The vipers were Ming all along.
The wine table trembled.
Azure energy rippled from Yeon Ho-jeong—Blue Dragon Spirit Qi beyond his previous power. Murderous aura plunged the room into frozen hell.
Memories flashed:
His father sighing at the sky.
Ji-pyeong’s trusting smile.
His father’s bloodied back amidst battle.
His brother’s spine snapping in a masked assailant’s grip.
ROAR!
The energy erupted into flames. Ga Deuk-sang paled.
“Young Master Yeon!”
“Grrk.”
“Yeon! Damn bastard—my heart’s leaping out!!”
Yeon Ho-jeong startled back to control.
WHOOSH!
The horrific aura vanished.
Ga Deuk-sang clutched his pounding chest.
“Planning murder? Control your bloodlust! I’m fine, but weaker men would’ve coughed organs!”
No exaggeration—Yeon Ho-jeong’s spiritual power mirrored the Black Darkness Emperor’s. A supreme master’s killing intent alone could kill.
“Apologies. I failed composure.”
“You call this composure? Scared speechless! Did others notice?”
Ga Deuk-sang checked outside. Thankfully, passersby remained calm.
“Ugh, like sharing a den with tigers. Nearly soiled myself. Wait—did I...?”
“My shame.”
“Enough! Be careful!”
“Understood.”
Ga Deuk-sang caught his breath.
“Why the rage? Great clans raising secret forces isn’t unusual.”
“Their purpose matters.”
“Purpose?”
“Chief Beggar.”
“Hm?”
“Another request.”
“...Damnit, pay me first! What now?”
Yeon Ho-jeong’s voice turned glacial.
“This one may breach ethics.”
When war drums sound, laws fall silent.
The time had come to shed constraints.
