Chapter 156: For Whom Does the Hammer Toll?

There's a saying, 'Borrowing a Knife to Kill'.[^("차도살인" (Chadosalin): A strategy/idiom meaning to use someone else's power or resources to achieve one's own objective, often destructively.)]

It means killing someone with a borrowed knife—using another's power to achieve a wicked scheme.

Even though he knew full well that lighting the furnace would draw the attention of the Namen Sect martial artists who were watching him, the old blacksmith hadn't said a word.

He snorted shamelessly.

“Hmph. What choice did I have? How could a simple villager with no martial arts possibly handle those bastards?”

“Aren’t you being a bit too brazen about it?” Qing retorted.

“You’re the ones who drew your swords, aren’t you? It wouldn’t have mattered if you hadn’t shed blood, would it?”

He was basically saying, I didn’t ask you to kill them, you did it yourselves.

Qing replied, dumbfounded. “Well, sure, we’re experts—actually, I’m way too much of an expert to share a table with them, but anyway—they hesitated because we were strong. Otherwise, wouldn’t they have gone absolutely wild seeing such pretty women?”

“A burly fellow, two stunning beauties, and one hanger-on walking around without a speck of dust on their clothes… I figured you lot must have considerable skill,” the old man said, looking in turn at Zhuge Ihyeon, Tang Nanah, and then Gyeon Pohee. His final gaze landed on Qing.

“Huh? What? Why am I the hanger-on?” Qing demanded.

“Why else would a wench cover her face?”

Common sense in the martial arts world dictated that if someone covered their face, it was because they had a face not fit to be seen. The alternative was a lady of noble birth who couldn’t carelessly show her face, but such noblewomen didn’t disgrace themselves by carrying swords.

“Anyway,” the old man continued, “I got to see a satisfying sight before I die, so I’ll fix these needles up properly for you. It won’t take long, so take them and leave. Since three of them died, the rest will be furious and swarm this place soon.”

“Then what about you, old man?” Qing asked.

“If an old codger like me stays alive, they’ll just use me to hurt my worthless grandson. To avoid seeing that, I might as well hang myself. What other choice is there? Come to think of it, these needles will be my final work.”

His words were too wretched to be spoken so calmly.

Qing frowned. “What’s this? Playing the sympathy card?”

“I wasn’t planning on asking for anything anyway, so don’t concern yourselves whether I hang myself or drink molten iron. I was barely breathing before you arrived, just waiting for a chance to take one of them down with me.”

Qing recalled the cold glint in the old man’s eyes as he had watched silently from the shadows when she entered the metal shop. It seemed the stubborn old fellow hadn’t been lying about wanting to take one down with him.

“Why think about dying instead of asking for help?” Pohee asked quietly.

“Hmph. Ask who?” the old man scoffed. “Other sects are all in cahoots. Even the government office takes bribes and sides with them. Who can I complain to or ask for help?”

“Why, there’s the Righteous Faction, isn’t there?” Qing pointed out. “They use the character for ‘righteous’.”

“Hmph. Righteous Faction, Unorthodox Faction… aren’t they all just cut from the same cloth called martial artists? They’re all just murderers carrying weapons anyway. Isn’t that what you people do? If you want something, you take it, threaten people, and if that doesn’t work, you take out your frustration. So what can be done? If you don’t know martial arts and you’re weak, you just die.”

Tang Nanah bristled at his words. “What, this old man…!”

“It’s fine,” Qing cut her off. “He’s not wrong, is he?”

As Qing stopped Tang Nanah, Old Man Ban smirked crookedly. His look clearly said, And how are you any different?

Indeed, if there were no Orthodox Murim presence in the city, and the only martial artists he had encountered his entire life were villains from the Unorthodox Faction, then to him, one was no different from the other. In fact, as the saying goes, sometimes the one who tries to mediate is more disliked; he might have hated the Righteous Faction even more for merely preaching righteousness while offering no real help.

“That’s a pretty childish provocation,” Qing said, “but I’ll let it slide this once. I’ll go look for your grandson, so don’t you go dying on me. Just wait.”

“Help me? Hmph. Even if you act magnanimous and bestow your grace, I won’t make you a sword.”

“Who asked you to make a sword? Don’t make me laugh. A sword’s just something you use and throw away when it’s worn out. You think I’m gonna baby some fancy blade just because it’s good?”

Qing was notoriously rough with her weapons. Her naming sense alone proved it. Her regular sword was simply the Moonlight Sword, her half-sword the Hell Sword. The Bokshinjeok wasn't treated any differently. Wasn’t she currently abusing the Bokshinjeok to the point that if there was an afterlife, Ban Chi, unable to bear it any longer in the netherworld, would surely crawl back from the grave as a Jiangshi-Ban Chi, weeping tears of blood, just to get revenge? If she got another short staff later, it would just become Bokshinjeok (No. 2).

“But fair warning,” Qing added, “if I can’t handle it, I’m ditching. So if you hear someone caused a ruckus but ran away because they were overwhelmed, then you can go hang yourself or stick your nose in molten iron.”

With that, Qing turned around.

Just as she was crossing the metal shop's front yard, a corner of her vision flashed insistently – the Mission Window was practically screaming to be opened. Qing brought it up, then dismissed it without even checking. It'd just be a Sudden Mission with the usual crap, right? Help the old man, go rob someone, or maybe kill all the Heavenly Slaughtering Stars. Predictable.

“Sister, please calm down for a moment.”

Just then, Zhuge Ihyeon caught Qing’s arm. Only then did Qing realize her mistake. She was so used to causing mayhem alone that she’d forgotten she had companions.

“Right. I’m gonna go have some fun, so you guys head to Kaifeng first. Don’t worry about me. If things get tough, I’ll just run away.”

“Come to think of it, you did the same thing in Luoyang,” Zhuge Ihyeon reminded her gently. “But, Sister, do you know how disappointed Brother Peng was back then?”

“Huh? Why?”

“If you had just asked for help, whether it was Brother Peng, myself, or even Brother Hwangbo, dealing with some minor Unorthodox Faction would have been nothing. But you just left abruptly.”

“Eh,” Qing waved dismissively. “You guys had your own things going on. And that was my business.”

“Well, I had only just met you then, so I let it slide,” Zhuge Ihyeon said, “but Brother Peng was grinding his teeth. I wondered why, but now I understand. Sister, you call us your siblings, but when you really need something, you draw a line and treat us like strangers.”

“Well, yeah, we are strangers in that sense,” Qing countered. “Just because we’re close doesn’t mean we should carelessly lump ourselves together. I take responsibility for my decisions. Besides, strictly speaking, I’m not really part of the Divine Maiden Sect anyway, and Master told me not to hold back because of her.”

At that, Zhuge Ihyeon’s expression turned noticeably crestfallen. “If you truly think of us as close, you should at least offer us the chance to help. Not just inform us, ‘This is my business, I’ll handle it myself, so let’s part ways here.’”

Hmm. Is it really that big a deal? Qing tilted her head.

“But I’m already a super-duper expert at running away! Even Master said that if I really decide to bolt, there’s practically no one under heaven who can catch me. So there’s no real danger for me, but if you guys come along, you could be in danger.”

“So this time, it’s your decision that puts us at risk, Sister?” Zhuge Ihyeon asked pointedly.

“Huh?”

“If you invite us, and we decide to join you, then isn't that our own individual responsibility, just as you said? In that case, there’s no need for you to worry about us, is there?”

“Does that even make sense? It would be because of me.”

“Hah…” Zhuge Ihyeon sighed. “Forget it. I will follow you as I please, Sister. Whatever happens is entirely my decision.”

“Hey, why—?”

While Qing wore a sour expression, Tang Nanah seized the moment to jump in. “That’s right! If Qing-ah goes, I’m going too! If things get dicey, I have this!”

Tang Nanah pulled out a fist-sized round object from somewhere and held it up proudly.

Zhuge Ihyeon’s face turned pale. “That… Do you always carry a Poison Bomb with you?”

“Ah. It’s fine, don’t worry,” Tang Nanah reassured him brightly. “It won’t explode just like that.”

Incidentally, her words were identical to the phrase that accounted for an overwhelming percentage of last words uttered by people who died in explosions.

‘It’s fine, it won’t explode.’ And then, BOOM!

The group strode confidently across Zhumadian. One good thing about having Zhuge Ihyeon around was that they only needed to ask for directions once to map out the route perfectly.

“Turn left up ahead,” he instructed. “Then, in the large square, take the first main road on the right.”

“Hmm. By any chance, do they have speed traps around here?” Qing quipped.

“Pardon?” Zhuge Ihyeon asked, confused.

“Just kidding. Never mind.” It was gibberish to him.

Jokes aside, Qing’s confidence was so imposing that they were basically marching right into the enemy stronghold as if it were perfectly natural.

“By the way,” Zhuge Ihyeon inquired, “do you have any particular plan?”

“Of course,” Qing declared. “I always have a plan.”

“May I hear your esteemed strategy?”

“Hmm. Go there and tell them to hand over Old Man Ban’s son?”

“…?” Zhuge Ihyeon blinked. “Will they hand him over meekly? And wasn’t it his grandson, not his son?”

“Son, grandson, same difference. If they don’t hand him over, we attack first. Block the main gate. I’ll take the front, you guys take the back. If the enemies don’t come out, Nanah will charge in, throwing hidden weapons sneakily to lure them out.”

“…?”

“If a Transcendent Realm master shows up,” Qing finished grandly, “I, Ximen Qing—who surpasses the Peak Realm—will handle it. The end.”

“Indeed,” Zhuge Ihyeon said after a moment, nodding slowly. Then he added, “Is it perhaps too late to back out?”

“I don’t stop anyone who wants to leave,” Qing replied breezily.

“Couldn’t you at least pretend to try and stop me…?” Zhuge Ihyeon muttered under his breath.

Normally, Zhuge Ihyeon would have tried to dissuade her and turn back at this point. But having experienced the force of nature known as Ximen Qing, he knew very well that suggesting a more detailed or cautious attack plan would only result in her declaring she’d go alone and charging in anyway. Besides, her overwhelming confidence gave him a sliver of hope that she might actually have some other trick up her sleeve.

Tang Nanah, meanwhile, wasn’t thinking much at all. Let’s go beat up the bad guys! That was about the extent of her plan—the typical mindset of a wide-eyed chick fresh out into the martial arts world. At this point, one might genuinely suspect that Qing radiated some kind of aura that lowered the IQ of those around her.

However, Gyeon Pohee remained unaffected. This was primarily because she didn’t think much to begin with.

And so, the main gate bearing the plaque of the Namen Sect finally came into view just ahead.

Qing didn’t slow down, continuing straight forward. The guards lounging lackadaisically by the main gate spotted the approaching group. Their mouths dropped open slightly, especially upon seeing Tang Nanah’s striking face. Seeing them approach so boldly without any sign of hesitation, the guards probably assumed they were important guests from somewhere.

Watching them, Qing couldn’t fathom why Unorthodox Faction goons were always so eager to advertise their crooked, nasty attitudes right from the damn gatekeepers.

“What business brings you here?” one of the guards called out, though his eyes lingered on Tang Nanah.

“I’m here for Old Man Ban from the Ban Family Metal Shop’s son? Grandson?” Qing announced casually. “Hand him over nicely, and there won’t be any bloodshed.”

“What?” the guard stammered.

“Go tell your boss,” Qing commanded. “I’m feeling generous today, so I’ll let you go.”

Then, Qing stomped her right foot. Using the profound principles of the Moon Maiden Step, she shot forward like a cannonball. Stomping her right foot again, she came to an abrupt halt directly in front of one of the Namen Sect martial artists. Her left arm instantly shot out, grabbing the man’s collar, and she swung him effortlessly.

The man’s body flew up, aiming to clear the nearby wall, but instead, he crashed heavily into the upper section. Roof tiles shattered and rained down with a loud crash as he tumbled back to the ground in a heap.

Qing clicked her tongue, wearing a slightly sour expression. “Sorry. Didn’t use enough strength. Could’ve cleared the wall easily if I’d used both hands.”