Chapter 15….
Yidokun
There were many martial sects representing Guangdong Province, but among them, the Shin Changui Clan and the Cheonmyeong Manor were the leading sects of the orthodox faction.
Likewise, the Myeongsa Sect and the Heukmak Clan were no less powerful, standing as representatives of the unorthodox faction.
The martial sects active in Guangdong maintained balance and order around these four great powers.
In the provincial capital of Guangdong stood the Shin Changui Clan.
The clan was first established in Guangzhou three hundred years ago by Shin Chang Uigong-min, and after three centuries, it was now enjoying its greatest prosperity.
The reason for this was none other than the current clan head, Uije-min, the Thunder Spear of Lightning.
With his mastery of thunderous qi, he created the Twelve Thunder Spears, a martial art known as one of the greatest in the entire martial world. This art had earned Uije-min a place among the top hundred masters of the age.
Thanks to him, the Shin Changui Clan had risen to stand alongside the infamous Ak Clan of Shandong as a house famed for its spear techniques.
“Here in Guangdong, the Shin Changui Clan’s name truly resounds.”
After finishing his business in Foshan, the Sword Spirit (Geomryeong) had traveled down to Guangzhou. Seeing that he no longer carried a bundle on his back, it seemed he had entrusted everything to the Great Battlefield.
From the chatter of people around him, he realized just how immense the Shin Changui Clan’s prestige was.
“Welc—oh…”
As soon as he stepped into the inn, the waiter began to greet him but faltered mid-sentence.
“Is there a seat available?”
“O-Of course, young master! Please, this way. I’ll take you to the best seat on the second floor.”
What kind of man looks this handsome—no, this pretty?
The waiter, sneaking a glance at Geomryeong’s face, shook his head in disbelief as he guided him.
“Here we are, young master. This is our finest spot, with the best view.”
“Thank you.”
“And what shall I prepare for you to eat?”
Without much thought, Geomryeong replied:
“Do you have anything here that’s considered the best?”
“The best, you say?”
“Yes.”
“Well, everything here is delicious. Our head chef is quite renowned throughout Guangdong, and many patrons come to our Waryong Inn just to taste his cooking.”
“I see. Then let me ask differently—what do people order most often?”
The waiter hesitated.
“I figured, whatever people order most must be the tastiest.”
“In that case…”
At Geomryeong’s faint smile, the waiter began listing off common favorites: noodles, dumplings, stir-fried pork, wild mountain greens, and so forth.
“I’ll have one plate of each.”
“One… of each?”
“And here is the payment.”
Not knowing the exact prices, Geomryeong handed him a silver tael.
The waiter held it, dazed.
“Is that not enough?”
“No, no! It’s more than enough.”
“Good. Then you keep the rest. Isn’t that what people usually do?”
The waiter’s lips spread wide in a grin at the generous tip.
“Thank you, young master! Please wait just a moment, I’ll bring your dishes right away. I’ll even ask the chef to prepare our special Five-Spice Braised Chicken and Pork just for you.”
“Yes.”
Bowing, the waiter hurried downstairs to the kitchen.
Geomryeong turned toward the window, watching the bustling street outside.
The sight was no different from Hong Kong’s markets or common bazaars, except that as a larger city, the crowds were thicker.
“It’s different…”
Murmuring to himself, he continued,
“This isn’t quite how Old Ghost or Granny Jeonmo described it.”
All he knew of the martial world was what those three elders had told him. But considering they had vanished from the martial world fifty years ago, much could have changed since then.
“Clans that once thrived are now weak, and weak sects have grown strong. Clearly, a lot has shifted while the elders were gone.”
That was his conclusion.
—Time alone doesn’t topple things so easily.
It was something Solitary Demon Cheon Nam-yeon had once told him, when Geomryeong suggested that things might have changed with time.
“True, Solitary Elder wasn’t wrong. But if another power intervenes, collapse can come in an instant.”
As he organized his thoughts, the waiter returned with a stack of dishes, carrying them all at once with fingers and forearms. Geomryeong admired his skill.
“Impressive.”
“Not at all, young master. I’ve just grown used to it from practice.”
Geomryeong nodded and glanced at the plates.
“This must be the Five-Spice Braised Chicken and Pork?”
“Yes, young master! You’ll be very satisfied, I promise.”
Taking a piece, Geomryeong put it in his mouth. The unique aroma and flavor melted on his tongue.
“It’s truly delicious. Thank you.”
He began eating heartily.
Handsome, polite, and well-mannered… he must be the young master of some high official’s family, the waiter thought.
So different from…
His pleasant thoughts were cut off as three figures—two men and one woman—entered the inn. One of them, he knew well.
“Welcome!”
His expression flipped into a bright smile as he greeted them.
“What an honor, young master! You visited yesterday, and again today.”
“Enough flattery, just take us upstairs.”
“Right this way.”
He led them to the second floor.
“Please, have a seat here.”
Since Geomryeong was already seated by the window, he guided them to a nearby table.
“This isn’t where I usually sit.”
The young man, known as Yidokun, frowned at the sight of Geomryeong in “his” seat.
“There’s already a guest there, young master. I ask your understanding.”
This Yidokun was the third son of the Shin Changui Clan. Though not particularly skilled in martial arts, he leaned on his clan’s influence and treated Guangzhou as his personal playground.
His companions were Hyeon Jin-myeong, second son of Cheonmyeong Manor, and Hyeon Su-mi, the manor’s youngest daughter. Like him, they were haughty, enjoying life under the shelter of their powerful families.
“That’s my usual seat. Go tell that man to move immediately.”
“But, young master…”
“Now!”
At his bark, the waiter grimaced, torn between the two.
“You insolent fool! Did you not hear me?”
Left with no choice, the waiter bowed and approached Geomryeong.
“Young master…”
“I heard. But tell me—why should I give up my seat? I like it here, and besides, I still have plenty of food left.”
He had no intention of moving.
Step. Step.
Yidokun strode over.
“You look like some scholar’s son. Why don’t you just get up and leave?”
Seeing no martial aura from him, Yidokun assumed he was untrained. His face was full of arrogance, expecting the pretty youth to flinch and rise.
“Are you saying a scholar’s son can’t even eat in an inn?”
Remaining seated, Geomryeong looked up at him.
How can a man look so beautiful?
Hyeon Su-mi, gazing at his face, felt a flutter of admiration.
Yidokun sneered.
“Listen, don’t be foolish. You’ll just get hurt. Get up while you still can.”
It sounded like advice, but was only for show, since so many eyes were watching.
But in truth, just by making a scene over a seat, he already looked like a petty man.
“I’m eating. I’d appreciate it if you left.”
Turning back, Geomryeong calmly picked up noodles and ate.
“You bastard… do you know who I—”
Before his temper flared, a voice stopped him.
“Brother Dokun!”
It was Hyeon Su-mi.
“He’s just some boy with no martial skill. Let’s simply eat here.”
Though her words were aimed at Yidokun, her eyes stayed on Geomryeong.
“But Su-mi…”
“What would people think, if they heard we picked a fight with an untrained youth?”
“Well…”
“Come on. It’s not as if today is our only chance.”
Reluctantly, Yidokun relented.
“Count yourself lucky. Finish quickly and get lost.”
Geomryeong ignored him, savoring each bite.
Back at their table, the waiter finally exhaled in relief.
“What will you have, young master?” he asked.
“Bring the Five-Spice Braised Chicken and Pork, extra spicy. And the Baihong wine.”
“Yes, right away.”
Yidokun ordered, but his glare lingered on Geomryeong.
The Sword Spirit felt his gaze, but dismissed it. To him, Yidokun’s behavior was nothing more than a spoiled child throwing a tantrum.
“It’s delicious. Far better than the strange dishes Granny used to make me. Why did she feed me only those odd things?”
He had no idea that the “odd dishes” he ate were rare medicinal meals that martial artists would risk their lives to obtain.
“From now on, I’ll only eat food like this.”
Eating slowly, he savored every flavor. To onlookers, it seemed odd—almost as if he had never tasted such things before.
“He eats as though he’s never tried them,” someone whispered.
“There’s nothing wrong with eating slowly,” Su-mi interjected, defending him. “It helps digestion and eases the stomach.”
Yidokun scowled at her words.
So Su-mi is intrigued by that face of his…
Her brother, Jin-myeong, seemed to understand and nodded slightly. But Yidokun remained oblivious.
So dense…
In time, the inn filled to the brim with guests.
The waiter returned to Geomryeong’s table and spoke in a low voice:
“Young master.”
“Yes?”
“To be honest, we’re out of seats. Would you mind sharing your table with another guest?”
Looking around, Geomryeong saw that he was indeed the only one seated alone.
“Go ahead.”
“Thank you, young master!”
“No, it’s fine. It feels wrong to take such a large table all by myself.”
The waiter gratefully bowed and soon returned with a new guest.
It was a man in his late thirties, of small build, but with a sword at his waist—a martial artist, without a doubt.
He sat across from Geomryeong.
“My thanks.”
“Not at all. Sharing a meal makes it taste better. You’re a martial man, aren’t you?”
The man nodded.
