The Dianchang Sect’s hospitality was truly exceptional.
Of course, the lodging was simple rather than fancy—it was a place for Daoists, after all—yet the refined minimalism gave it a serene beauty. They showed their thoughtful consideration by assigning Tang Hwa-eun and me a detached building away from the main guesthouse, acknowledging us as a married couple.
—Ssshhh.
The rustling from the bamboo grove behind the lodging gave the feeling that even making a bit of noise wouldn’t be a problem.
It occurred to me that if we put Hyang and Hongdan to sleep early in the next room, we might be able to enjoy a really good night together.
As expected from people who specialize in thrusting—they chose a location perfect for "training."
And more than anything—the food was phenomenal.
They’d brought in a renowned chef from Dali. And to my joy, my favorite dish, sweet and sour pork—Tangchuricheok—was served, and it was absolutely delicious.
Even in my previous life, Chinese restaurants run by the diaspora were considered above average. But this? Made by a native from the homeland—it was on another level.
—Crunch.
The crispy skin, the juicy meat bursting with flavor in a single bite.
Combined with that sweet sauce, it easily ranked among the top sweet and sour pork dishes I’d ever eaten.
Delicious food always brings back memories. I thought back to my 1-million-subscriber mukbang celebration stream from my past life—also featuring sweet and sour pork—and felt a faint nostalgic twinge as I chewed.
“Ahh. I’m stuffed.”
It had been a while since I’d eaten this well. I felt like I’d overdone it.
“Should we take a walk?”
“Let’s.”
Just as Tang Hwa-eun said, a walk felt like the right move. As soon as we finished eating, we headed toward the rear garden that had been shown to us earlier.
There was a pavilion there. I figured lying down with my head on Hwa-eun’s lap would help my digestion.
—Chirp. Chirp.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the insects began to sing.
Just as those sounds filled the air and we reached the pavilion—
There was someone already there in the darkness.
Sharpening my gaze, I focused on the pavilion—and saw a familiar silhouette.
“Chang-ryong?”
It was none other than Chang-ryong. The moment he looked up and saw us, both Tang Hwa-eun and I flinched.
His face was downcast and dark—like all the color had drained out of him.
There was a shadow on his face deeper than the nightfall around us.
Now that I think of it, I didn’t see him at dinner either.
Come to think of it, he hadn’t joined us at dinner.
I cautiously asked,
“Chang-ryong, did something happen?”
He was dating the idol of the Dianchang Sect—no way the "fans" among her brothers, uncles, or grandfathers would’ve taken that lightly.
And he’d gotten dragged away by the sect leader himself—nothing good could’ve come of it.
Were they telling him to break up with her?
Even if I didn’t know the details, I could guess. Still, I feigned ignorance and asked—and that’s when Chang-ryong suddenly lunged forward and hugged me.
“Young warrior! Please help me!”
“W-Wait! Let go of me and then talk!”
I recoiled from the embrace of a large, gloomy furball. As I shoved him off, Tang Hwa-eun grabbed me protectively with a startled look.
“Yong-nang, are you okay?”
“Nope. Not okay. Ugh, I got chills.”
“M-My apologies...”
After calming my own nerves more than worrying about Chang-ryong, I asked,
“What exactly happened? What do you need help with?”
Tearing up, Chang-ryong finally began.
“I was feeling so trapped, and when I saw you, my emotions just spilled over... You’ve always helped me when I was in trouble...”
“Yeah, yeah—but just tell me what’s going on. I can’t help if I don’t know.”
“R-Right! So, earlier—remember how Elder Merciless Sword told me to stay behind?”
“I do.”
“He said he wanted to see whether I’m suitable for Geombong. He told me that if I’m ready before I leave, I should come to him so we can cross blades.”
I’d figured something was coming, but an actual duel challenge?
Maybe he was mentally broken already, just thinking about how badly he’d get beaten.
Then I heard Tang Hwa-eun murmur:
“Could this be... a martial arts contest for marriage?”
“A martial arts contest for what?”
Seeing me tilt my head, she explained.
“Usually, it means something like, ‘Whoever defeats me may marry my daughter,’ or ‘I’ll accept as my husband the one who beats me in combat.’”
Ah... so that’s why it’s called a contest to make a relative.
If the winner becomes your spouse, it technically increases your family ties—yeah, I got it now.
Then Chang-ryong, his voice trembling, asked:
“S-So it really is a martial arts contest for marriage? But I’m definitely going to lose... Does that mean I have to give up on Geombong? Ugh...”
He was visibly on the verge of tears.
Naturally—he knew there was no chance of winning.
At that moment, we heard voices behind us—Ji-ryong and Eunbong.
“Young warrior?”
“Dokhwa?”
“Is that Chang-ryong?”
We turned—and sure enough, it was Ji-ryong and Eunbong.
They seemed to be out for a walk like us. Ji-ryong even had a faint lipstick mark on his cheek.
Despite everything he went through last time, his love for kissing hadn’t faded.
Honestly—what’s a man supposed to do, if not go out with a kiss, even on his deathbed?
Now that my own lock was removed, I totally understood the feeling.
“Ah, Ji-ryong. Eunbong.”
“Young warrior, fancy seeing you again.”
“Out for a stroll? But wait... Chang-ryong didn’t come to dinner earlier either... wait—are you crying, man?”
“Crying? Chang-ryong?”
As we exchanged greetings, Ji-ryong and Eunbong widened their eyes in shock at the sight of Chang-ryong.
Isn’t Ji-ryong the brains of our group?
Apparently not satisfied with just my help, Chang-ryong latched onto Ji-ryong too.
“Please—you help me too!”
“Hey—hey! Let go of me and then talk!”
Just like me, Ji-ryong flinched when the big gloomy guy clung to him.
A little while later—
After hearing the full story, Ji-ryong nodded.
“You’re never going to beat Sect Leader Merciless Sword in a duel. He’s probably testing your character or sincerity. Just show your determination—you’ll be fine.”
His guess was that since victory was impossible, the elder was gauging something else instead—probably true.
But my view was a bit different.
“Ji-ryong, I see it another way.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think the duel is just a pretext—a tool to justify rejection. Geombong is like a treasured granddaughter to the sect. No matter who she chooses, he’s bound to be displeased.”
“...That’s fair.”
No matter what, he was bound to dislike the suitor. The duel just provided an excuse to reject him.
There was no reason to show mercy to a guy like Chang-ryong.
Even though he had the nickname Chang-ryong, he was in a different league from me or Ji-ryong.
I’d been recognized as a prodigy in venomous creatures and chosen by Tang Cheolsan himself as a son-in-law. Top-tier talent.
Ji-ryong came from a similarly prestigious background, but he had the intelligence to earn the title of genius.
Both of us had standout abilities—we already scored points.
But Chang-ryong? He was the eldest son of the Yang Clan, famous for spears.
It ranked below the Seven Great Noble Clans. People said he’d been raised on elixirs since childhood, created by his clan in an attempt to elevate their status.
Naturally, he was ranked lower than us.
“S-So what do I do now? Wahhh...”
Now he was fully crying.
I patted his shoulder and said,
“Don’t worry. There’s always a way.”
“There’s a way!?”
He looked up at me like he’d just seen a savior. I smiled and said:
“If I help you out again this time, that’s me saving your ass multiple times now.”
Seriously—what would this guy do without me?
***
Three Days Later.
After dinner, I was lying down with my head on Tang Hwa-eun’s lap when news arrived that a few of the men selling the counterfeit medicine in Dali had been discreetly apprehended.
One of the Dianchang Sect’s disciples reported this to me directly, explaining that they were currently being escorted back to the sect.
“We’re bringing two of them in now.”
“That’s good news. Thank you.”
“Not at all. But according to what I’ve heard, those men only handled the sales. We’ll need to interrogate them further.”
“Understood.”
It seemed likely that the sellers and the manufacturers were different people. As we arrived at the Sect Leader’s office for the interrogation, twin braziers lit the entrance brightly despite the late hour. The Three Peaks of the Five Dragons had already taken their seats.
They looked like they’d come to watch the show.
I greeted Elder Merciless Sword first, then walked over to the Three Peaks.
“You all arrived early.”
“Well, with fools getting dragged in, we couldn’t miss it.”
“You think we’d skip this kind of event?”
It wasn’t exactly noble entertainment, but they all wore faces of mild anticipation—as if watching torture was a fun evening event. That’s when I noticed Chang-ryong’s expression.
I sent him a sound transmission to ask how things had gone.
[How did it go?]
[Ah... still nothing. Do you really think that plan will work?]
It had been three days since I coached him, and he still hadn’t even tried. I sighed internally.
[Well, if you don’t trust me, that’s your choice.]
[N-No! It’s not that I don’t trust you... It’s just, I—I haven’t been able to steel myself...]
[Then next time, don’t ask me for help.]
He looked shocked. When I said that if he didn’t believe in me, he should stop coming to me for help, Chang-ryong’s expression turned flustered. Then, hesitatingly, he turned toward Elder Merciless Sword and began to speak.
“Um... Elder Merciless Sword...”
The elder, who had been seated at a desk and chair between the twin braziers, looked up at Chang-ryong.
“What is it?”
Just earlier, when greeting me, he’d looked so kind and warm—but now, with Chang-ryong, he was fully in “Merciless Sword” mode again.
Chang-ryong stammered nervously.
“T-The preparation you mentioned... I’ve finished it.”
“Is that so? We can’t keep the interrogation waiting forever—let’s have a look at your skill before the suspects arrive. But, there’s quite a crowd. Are you alright with that?”
“O-Of course.”
—Srrrng.
The two of them, faces stiff with tension, stepped into the clearing in front of the office and drew their weapons. Geombong reacted in shock.
“Chang-ryong, what is this? Master? Master! What is happening!?”
But her senior brothers quickly pulled her aside.
“Junior sister, since he claims to be your lover, our master simply wishes to see if he’s qualified. Don’t overreact.”
“Qualified? For what?”
“To be the man of our Dianchang Sect’s future Number One Sword. Naturally, if a wedding is to happen, we must know the man. And for martial artists, strength is revealed through martial skill. He’s merely testing that.”
“W-Wedding? I-I never really thought that far ahead... B-But... Chang-ryong, please do your best...”
Perhaps the idea of marriage felt like a distant future to her—but now, it was suddenly on the table. Her dazed expression as she nervously rooted for him said it all.
And just like that, the mood turned ice-cold as the duel began.
“I ask for your guidance! Here I come! Haaah!”
—Clang!
The duel went exactly as expected.
Chang-ryong drew his spear, launched a few techniques, and then got knocked down. Repeatedly.
Every time he lunged forward, Elder Merciless Sword swung his blade without mercy, and Chang-ryong would tumble across the ground with a thud.
—Clang!
“Guhhhh...”
Around the tenth time /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ Chang-ryong rolled across the ground, Elder Merciless Sword spoke in a tone of clear dissatisfaction.
“You’re lacking in many ways. Hardly worthy of our Geombong.”
“Ghh... I’m not finished yet.”
At the words you’re not good enough, Chang-ryong turned pale and looked at me.
As if blaming me for this not going according to plan.
And then came the elder’s next question.
“Determination alone doesn’t solve everything. But tell me—why do you only thrust?”
He was referring to spear techniques—Chang-ryong had used nothing but thrusts the entire duel, and now the elder was curious.
That’s when Chang-ryong looked at me with shining eyes and began to say the lines I had given him.
He was choosing from the two options I had prepared.
“Well... that’s because...”
“Yes?”
“B-Because thrusting is the strongest technique.”
Option one: keep using thrusts, and when asked, say "Thrusting is the strongest."
Option two (if they don’t interrupt): "I’ve never used anything but thrusts. I believe thrusting is the ultimate technique. How can a man who believes that not be worthy of your sect’s Number One Sword?"
The moment he spoke those words, the tense air shifted completely.
And understandably so—Dianchang Sect warriors were thrusting fanatics. Obsessive about the thrust technique.
Trying to take their princess? Of course they’d resist.
But if you proved you were one of them?
I’m no outsider.
I’m one of you.
That’s how the mood flips like this.
Elder Merciless Sword re-sheathed his sword and said in a pleased tone,
“Geombong chose quite a decent man.”
All streams return to the source.
As always, everyone may worship different things—but deep down, their hearts are the same.
It was exactly as expected.
