[Beggar’s Union Elder So-and-so]

Seolhwa checked the name written on the paper and knit her brows.

A name she knew.

Back when she’d left the Namgoong Clan and was hunting for the Hao Sect Lord’s daughter, a Beggar’s Union contact who’d helped her.

At the time he’d been the Chief Stick Master at Five Knots, but in the meantime two more knots had been added and it seemed he’d risen all the way to Elder.

“That man has the Beggar’s Union information web in his fist. He won’t be easy to catch.”

“Why is the Beggar’s Union looking for him?”

She asked as if curious, but Seolhwa already half knew the reason.

In her previous life, the ✪ Nоvеlіgһt ✪ (Official version) Beggar’s Union had volunteered to be a cat’s paw for the Blood Cult.

“To get the Beggar’s Union, you have to find him.”

“You plan to make the Beggar’s Union submit under nothing more than a brothel?”

“You know full well it’s not ‘nothing more than a brothel.’”

Seolhwa stared quietly at the name on the paper, then set the sheet down and fell silent for a moment.

After that brief silence, she asked Mo-wol:

“What is Hwaoru plotting?”

“...Please understand that’s not something I can easily say on my own authority.”

“...”

“One thing.”

Beyond the black veil, Mo-wol’s gaze met Seolhwa’s eyes beyond her mask.

“If this matter ends successfully, I believe I can tell you quite a lot.”

“So if I want to hear it, I’m to seize him and lay him at your feet.”

Instead of answering, Mo-wol’s lips curved.

Seolhwa watched her with a cutting stare, then turned her head toward the pavilion’s underside.

“Go back.”

“...”

“When preparations are complete, I’ll send someone.”

Mo-wol offered a formal bow once more and withdrew.

Soon, she appeared below the pavilion; even with the Sado Union Lord’s eyes on her back, she walked off to her room without a ripple.

A black shadow slid up Seolhwa’s shoulder.

[So I tail that wretch?]

— When she leaves the brothel. Just find out where she’s going. Under no circumstances get caught.

[What do you take me for! You think a trifling thing like that could sense me?]

As the Imoogi said.

Mo-wol was gifted at stratagems, but in martial skill she was no more than a peak master.

But—

If this were something Mo-wol was doing alone, there would be no problem; she could not be certain of that.

If, by chance, this was something the Blood Demon had ordered, eyes might be watching from somewhere.

— Don’t forget. Who stands behind that woman.

The Imoogi slid over the paper spread on the table.

Seolhwa also fixed her gaze on the name written there.

She’d heard that name in her previous life, too, but by then the Beggar’s Union had already fallen under the Blood Cult and he was dead.

The Beggar’s Union Elder who, to the very end, was said to have opposed the union’s entry under the Blood Cult.

Whether the Beggar’s Union fell into the Blood Cult’s hands or not—the key would be in his hands.

****

“I think this is the place the serving boy mentioned.”

The next day, Yu Gang’s party left the inn and went to the spot where the Dragon-Head Lord of the Beggar’s Union was said to have been killed.

It had already been half a year since the Dragon-Head Lord’s death, but they hoped some tiny trace might remain that could lay bare the full story of how he died.

“Do you think the serving boy’s story is true? That a Beggar’s Union Elder killed the Dragon-Head Lord.”

“They say everyone in Hebei knows it, so there’s a good chance it’s true.”

“What nags at me is the talk about blood everywhere.”

Yu Gang and Golden Lotus Rain looked toward Tang Hojin.

According to the serving boy, those who first saw the Dragon-Head Lord’s corpse had fainted from the sheer horror of the blood-soaked scene.

“As I understand it, the Beggar’s Union’s main art is the staff. Of course, a staff isn’t the whole of their martial canon, but a blood-splattered scene doesn’t really fit.”

Yu Gang slowly nodded.

Just then, his gaze caught an old, dark red stain between the ground and the wall.

As if pooled blood had seeped into a gap and dried there.

Bending his knee to crouch, Yu Gang studied it closely and said:

“Lord Tang has a point. I don’t believe the tale that a Beggar’s Union Elder killed the Dragon-Head Lord either. It’s just...”

Yu Gang’s expression hardened to ice.

“What is it?”

Yu Gang lifted a finger to his lips, cutting off Golden Lotus Rain and Tang Hojin’s words.

Then he read the presences in the area.

A moment later, the corner of his mouth took on a faint, mocking curve.

“That serving boy wasn’t an ordinary serving boy.”

No sooner had Yu Gang spoken than Golden Lotus Rain and Tang Hojin also sensed the presences closing in around them.

Presently, an old beggar stepped out before the three.

His shaggy long hair veiled his eyes, and though he was small and thin, the qi coming off him was at least that of a peak master.

He bowed his head to Yu Gang’s party.

“We greet the envoys of the Martial Alliance. Hugae wishes to meet you—might you spare a little time?”

The three traded looks, then nodded.

“Lead the way.”

****

They followed the old beggar to a place beneath a great bridge that spanned a river in Hebei.

Beneath the bridge stood dozens of shacks, as if beggars made their camp there.

When Yu Gang’s party appeared in the Beggar’s Union’s warren, the beggars came peeking out to gawk at them with curious eyes.

“Feels like we’ve turned into caged beasts.”

Perhaps it was the persistence of those stares that grated; Golden Lotus Rain grumbled.

The old beggar led the three to the innermost shack.

It looked the shabbiest, yet it was the largest.

“Go on in.”

Grinning, the old beggar lifted the flap.

His teeth were caked with yellow grime, and Golden Lotus Rain and Tang Hojin’s faces tightened.

Yu Gang dipped his head in thanks and stepped inside the shack.

The other two followed him.

“Ugh...”

The moment she entered, Golden Lotus Rain pinched her nose without thinking.

The shack was choked with a musty stench.

Tang Hojin couldn’t quite hide his discomfort either; only Yu Gang kept his composure.

“Ah, welcome, welcome!”

The man receiving them inside greeted the three with hearty warmth.

His rags looked pieced from dozens of scraps, his hair tied into a single knot yet still wild.

Grime-blackened skin—and eight knots at his side.

“Sorry to call you out of the blue like this! I’m Cheon Guiho, Hugae of the Beggar’s Union!”

Cheon Guiho offered Yu Gang a handshake.

His hand was filthy with caked dirt, but Yu Gang clasped it without a flicker of aversion.

“Yu Gang.”

“I’ve heard plenty about you! You’re the champion of the tournament, aren’t you! Heh-heh-heh!”

“So you know me.”

“Not just you! This young lady is Golden Lotus Rain, and this gentleman is Lord Tang Hojin, isn’t that right? But where has Miss Namgoong gone?”

They had kept the investigation discreet by sending faces that were relatively less known.

Yet all that caution proved pointless: the Beggar’s Union knew everything.

Cheon Guiho’s grip tightened, weight coming into his clasp with Yu Gang.

“We’re the Beggar’s Union. Look down on ‘beggars’ and you’ll come to grief.”

A peculiar current passed between Yu Gang and Cheon Guiho.

The two held each other’s eyes for a beat.

“Heh-heh! If you were so curious, you should’ve just asked directly! I’d have told you straight! First—sit, sit!”

Cheon Guiho showed them to their “seats.”

On a big, flat rock that barely passed for a table, chipped and cracked cups had been set out.

There were no chairs, and while they hesitated over where to sit, Cheon Guiho plopped down on the dirt with a thump.

The three followed suit and sat on the ground.

Yu Gang tossed back the tea that had been set out and wiped his lips with the back of his hand.

“The fragrance is good.”

“Heh-heh. Is it? Believe it or not, that’s the pricey Dragon Well tea. Granted, we picked it out of what others brewed and threw away, but it’s rare all the same.”

“I see. I don’t know tea, but it tasted excellent.”

“Heh-heh...”

Cheon Guiho drained his own cup in a gulp and set it down with a tap.

“Now then—let’s get to it. What brought you all the way to Hebei?”

“We want the details of what happened half a year ago.”

At “half a year ago,” Cheon Guiho’s expression went cold.

“What, exactly?”

“How did the Dragon-Head Lord of the Beggar’s Union pass away?”

“...”

Cheon Guiho’s eyelids twitched.

As if recalling that time pained him, his eye corners kept working as he spoke.

“The former Dragon-Head Lord was murdered. A man who was then an Elder of the Beggar’s Union killed him and fled.”

“Do you mean So-and-so?”

“You know him well. He did that deed.”

“Why? There must be a reason So-and-so murdered the Dragon-Head Lord.”

“I don’t know.”

Cheon Guiho let out a short laugh, his eyelids twitching.

“I wonder, too. A man who followed the Dragon-Head Lord so faithfully—why he did such a thing. But one thing is certain.”

“?”

“He was after the Dog-Beating Staff. He killed the Dragon-Head Lord, took the Dog-Beating Staff, and ran.”

The Dog-Beating Staff.

The sacred object of the Beggar’s Union, passed down to the Dragon-Head Lord.

Whoever holds the Dog-Beating Staff can be recognized as Dragon-Head Lord and become the master of beggars across the Central Plains.

And only one who bears the Dog-Beating Staff may inherit the Beggar’s Union’s proprietary arts.

“Beggars may be rootless, but without the Dog-Beating Staff it’s hard to be acknowledged as Dragon-Head Lord. We tried to find him, but he hid deep—he’s not easy to flush out.”

This was why the Dragon-Head Lord’s seat had been vacant for half a year.

Why Cheon Guiho, whom the previous Dragon-Head Lord had taken as a disciple, couldn’t be elevated to Head: because So-and-so vanished with the Dog-Beating Staff.

“So—in truth, I called you here to ask a favor.”

Cheon Guiho hesitated, then opened his mouth.

“Could you meet with So-and-so for us? If it’s the Martial Alliance, even he can’t avoid you forever.”