Opposite Cheon Ryu-yeong's private booth, across the hallway, sat another enclosed booth.
There, dressed as a man, was Dokgo Seol, facing her escort and deputy commander of the Black Tortoise Unit's Fifth Squad, Jo Jeon-hu.
Jo Jeon-hu—
One of the eighteen first-generation disciples of the Dokgo clan in the orthodox martial sects. A towering man over six cheok tall, wielding a massive greatsword as tall as five cheok.
His face was rugged and almost half-covered by a thick beard, exuding the menacing aura of a murderous god. Children who saw him on the street often either wet themselves or burst into tears.
In battle, he had once cleaved three men in half at the waist with a single swing of that enormous sword—a man of terrifying strength.
Although a curtain hung over the booth entrance, using their internal energy to perceive what lay beyond was effortless for them.
At first, they thought the group opposite was just a curious bunch—dressed in shabby clothes yet ordering expensive dishes and sitting in silence. What was especially strange was the faint, yet oddly compelling sense of melancholy that clung to them.
Intrigued, Dokgo Seol quietly ate her meal while eavesdropping on the conversation next door.
It turned out to be a farewell meal for someone dismissed from the escort company.
The forty-two-year-old Jo Jeon-hu clicked his tongue.
"Tsk, such naïve people. They speak so freely just because there's no one from the escort company present. If someone connected to the company is nearby, all their words would reach the head."
He too had been eavesdropping once he noticed Dokgo Seol's interest.
"That's true. Still, it seems everyone nearby is just an ordinary patron. No one else is listening in like us."
After spreading her qi sense to check the surroundings, Dokgo Seol replied with a faint smile.
"Yes, it seems so."
Jo Jeon-hu allowed a small, relieved grin to form as well—he too had probed the surroundings. Their eyes met briefly in the air, both sharing an incredulous look.
Why were they even worrying about those people? What did it matter if their words reached the escort company and they got beaten for it?
But then, both smiled knowingly.
Protecting and considering the weak—
That was one of the most important virtues a chivalrous warrior should possess.
Of course, this small concern was hardly enough to claim they were walking the exalted Path of Chivalry.
Still, the fact that both wished to spare these people from needless retaliation was enough for their smiles to align.
Jo Jeon-hu changed the subject.
"Miss, aren't you going to have at least one meal with the clan head?"
"Mister, I'm not here as a representative of the clan. I'm here as a member of the Martial Alliance to take part in this battle."
"Even so… the clan head looked disappointed when you only greeted him with a nod earlier."
"I've told you before! I want to stand tall on my own strength, not on my family's background!"
"…."
"And stop calling me 'Miss.'"
Jo Jeon-hu, despite his fierce exterior, gave a sheepish smile—revealing his gentle and delicate nature.
"Yes, Fifth Squad Leader. But you've misspoken as well."
"Eh?"
"It's not 'Mister.'"
"Oh! Right… Deputy Commander."
"Hahaha."
"Hohoho."
They used their laughter to smooth over the awkward moment, then returned to their meal in silence. Neither was the chatty type while eating—though that changed once alcohol was involved.
From the opposite booth, the talk and laughter continued.
Dokgo Seol found herself listening again, a faint ache tugging at her chest.
"In the martial world, we live constantly on edge," she murmured. "But hearing such pure, unguarded feelings… I think we've both unconsciously opened our hearts to them. That's why we keep listening."
She had always believed the most intense lives were those of martial artists like herself—born into a martial clan, fighting in the treacherous forests of the jianghu, never knowing when death would strike.
But hearing this group… her perspective shifted slightly.
'Maybe their struggle is no less fierce than mine. At least I never had to give up my dreams because of poverty… Poverty, huh.'
What moved her most was the young man they called "the youngest." His raw honesty—forcing himself to smile until he couldn't anymore, then breaking down in tears—stirred something deep within her. The quiet sobs of his companions that followed…
Her nose stung.
They had held back their grief for the length of a quarter hour before smiling again. And somehow, that smile felt even sadder.
"Life is hard for everyone, isn't it?"
"…."
"It's strange… it makes me realize that we, at least, are among the fortunate. So instead of complaining, we should live and work even harder."
"…."
Jo Jeon-hu remained silent. When she glanced up at him, Dokgo Seol's clear, bright eyes twitched in surprise.
Jo Jeon-hu had stuffed a massive fist against his mouth, stifling sobs.
"Miss—ah, Squad Leader."
"…."
"It's just… too sad."
"…."
"Sniff…"
Dokgo Seol began to seriously doubt the appropriateness of his nickname, Yaksha Sword. If she could rename him, she'd choose Pure-Heart Sword instead.
Shaking her head, she found her gaze inevitably drawn to Cheon Ryu-yeong. He was, after all, the center of all the conversation.
Though separated by two curtains, seeing him directly brought mild disappointment.
His voice was clear and pleasant, and from his companions' accounts—despite the obvious exaggerations—his deeds clearly had some basis in truth. That alone was impressive.
Dokgo Seol—twenty-one years old.
A swordswoman who dreamed not of being a beautiful woman, but a strong martial artist.
But that didn't mean she wasn't still a woman.
Her natural curiosity about the opposite sex had led her to imagine Cheon Ryu-yeong as quite the handsome man. Instead, he had an utterly ordinary face.
If she'd had no expectations, it wouldn't have been disappointing—but now…
She gave an involuntary wry smile, only to realize Cheon Ryu-yeong was looking at her. Or rather, she belatedly noticed that he had been aware of her gaze.
Through the narrow gaps in the curtain fringe, he had sensed someone watching him.
Tilting his head, he met her eyes. Dokgo Seol quickly furrowed her brows and looked away.
'Great. Now he probably thinks I've been staring at him all this time… Well, maybe he just thought it was a strange feeling. He's no martial artist, after all.'
In truth, she had been staring—while silently judging his appearance—but hadn't realized he'd caught on.
Feeling uncomfortable, she decided it was time to leave. She'd finished eating and had only planned to drink some tea. But then the youngest in the other booth spoke—freezing her in place.
"You know those four reasons why he spared us, right?"
Her curiosity flared. She remembered hearing that the leader of Asochae had vowed to kill them all—yet here they were, alive.
The first and second reasons came out, and the porters praised them in awe. She and Jo Jeon-hu both remained rooted to their seats, captivated.
Old man Paho asked from the opposite booth,
"So what are the third and fourth reasons?"
"Yeah, I'm dying to know!"
"How could the Blood Spear of Asochae become a chief escort, anyway?"
Cheon Ryu-yeong's tone turned firm.
"Shh! I told you, that's something we can never talk about. If wild rumors spread, our heads wouldn't be safe—ten times over."
At his warning, everyone flinched and nodded.
At that moment, it was just the same group gathered, with liquor flowing, emotions running high, and now that they were seeing Cheon Ryu-yeong for the last time, they had completely forgotten the repeated warnings he had given them.
Across the way, Dokgo Seol's eyes widened to the point of tearing, and Jo Jeon-hu instinctively shot to his feet, moving right up to the doorway.
The Blood Spear of Asochae… becoming the Chief Escort Chief?
This was no small matter.
Even if it was bluster, it was worth verifying.
Then Cheon Ryu-yeong's lips parted.
"Do you really want to know?"
Everyone nodded. Old Man Paho swallowed.
"I'll hear it and forget it right away."
Curiosity is a frightening thing. Even with the risk of death, they stared with wide-eyed anticipation.
With everyone leaning in, Cheon Ryu-yeong gave a faint smile and replied—
"In any case, that's a secret."
"Aww, come on, brother!"
"Ryu-yeong! Don't be stingy like that!"
"Do you know how many sleepless nights I've had wondering about this?"
Dokgo Seol bit her lip hard, then finally rose from her seat.
In her judgment, talk of the Green Forest King's seat—the Chief Escort Chief—had to be investigated.
The Eighteen Strongholds of the Green Forest were part of the unorthodox factions, but they did not mingle with other unorthodox sects and generally avoided conflict with the orthodox sects.
The current Chief Escort Chief had once declared that as long as no one provoked them first, they would not cause trouble—and so the sects of the martial world left them alone.
There was no need to poke a sleeping tiger by meddling in their affairs, even if they were nothing more than bandits collecting tolls from merchants and escorts.
However… the movements of the Eighteen Strongholds were always a matter of great interest. Many unaffiliated masters who disliked being tied down resided there, and their total numbers were close to ten thousand.
She pushed aside the curtain and stepped into the opposite booth, meeting Cheon Ryu-yeong's eyes.
"If you tell me the remaining two reasons, I'll pay for your table's meal."
Jo Jeon-hu, hurrying after her, brightened instantly at the offer.
Cheon Ryu-yeong's group froze.
They hadn't imagined anyone had overheard their entire conversation.
Especially not a flawless, handsome man and a yaksha-like giant, both openly carrying weapons.
Martial artists.
Those who worked at an escort bureau inevitably dealt with many martial artists, but they were still people from another world. Even half-martial escorts could barely bring themselves to look them in the eye, and here they were, meeting such people outside of the escort bureau. One wrong word could cripple them.
And the middle-aged man behind that handsome face was terrifying enough to make it hard to breathe.
The porters all went pale, but Cheon Ryu-yeong let out a vague sigh and spoke evenly.
"Huu… I thought I felt someone's gaze. Are you connected to the Jinsan Escort Bureau?"
Dokgo Seol instantly realized she had approached too abruptly, driven by curiosity. Before she could answer, Cheon Ryu-yeong stood and continued politely.
"A gathering of men over drinks is bound to have exaggerations and bluster. Please don't misunderstand."
Jo Jeon-hu scratched at his jaw and spoke in a low but ringing voice.
"We're not from Jinsan Escort, nor are we connected to it. Don't trouble yourself with suspicions—just tell us the other two reasons, especially the third!"
His words only chilled the air further.
It was now clear they had heard everything. And if they were connected to the Jinsan Escort Bureau, would they admit it? Of course they'd deny it just like this.
Old Man Paho swallowed hard.
"Ah… well… my apologies to a great hero of the martial world, but we really were just joking among ourselves."
Jo Jeon-hu frowned.
"Come now. Even if there was some exaggeration, do you take us for fools who can't tell when talk is based on true events? Does it make sense to cry like that over a joke?"
Old Man Paho's tongue froze. Helpless, he looked to Cheon Ryu-yeong.
Cheon Ryu-yeong looked between Dokgo Seol and Jo Jeon-hu and spoke.
"I am Cheon Ryu-yeong, of the Jinsan Escort Bureau."
A clear invitation to exchange names—an attempt to discern their identities.
Catching his meaning, Dokgo Seol smiled faintly, revealing straight white teeth that shone against her exceptional beauty. The porters could hardly keep their wits.
When they looked at her, she was astonishingly beautiful. When they looked at Jo Jeon-hu behind her, he was terrifying. And that the two traveled together… was bizarre.
"We are martial artists of the Black Tortoise Unit, dispatched from the Martial Alliance."
At her words, the porters felt some of the heavy gloom in their hearts lift.
Orthodox faction, not unorthodox. That alone gave them some comfort—they wouldn't provoke trouble without cause.
Cheon Ryu-yeong nodded.
"So you're heroes of the Martial Alliance. I've heard the Black Tortoise Unit entered Chengdu with the Dokgo Clan and the Kunlun Sect. You're bound for the Martial Alliance's Sichuan branch to face the Demonic Cult, are you not? I wish you success."
Those in the escort business were more sensitive than anyone to the movements of the martial world. Cheon Ryu-yeong not only knew this but also that the Emei Sect was heading north to support the Sichuan branch.
A glimmer passed through Dokgo Seol's eyes.
From his manner of speaking, she could tell—this was no ordinary porter.
A true porter, no matter how long he worked at an escort bureau, wouldn't follow the affairs of the martial world so closely.
Meaning—he was no ordinary man. This matched the stories his companions had told, painting a picture of truth behind the boasts.
The Blood Spear of Asochae.
Though part of the unorthodox Green Forest, he was undeniably a top-tier master. She wasn't yet at that level, and even the Yaksha Sword, Jo Jeon-hu, would find him a formidable opponent. For someone to survive such a man with nothing but their tongue—this was not something to dismiss.
This man…
He had the makings of an excellent strategist.
Could it be that he truly gave the advice that might secure the Chief Escort Chief's seat at the very peak of the Eighteen Strongholds' power?
Now her interest went beyond mere curiosity or fact-checking.
You could hire capable warriors with enough money—but a good strategist? Those were as rare as pearls in the mud, said to be bestowed only by heaven.
When Dokgo Seol fell silent, the impatient Jo Jeon-hu thumped his chest and began—
"Cheon Ryu-yeong! Forget about us, just tell—"
She raised a hand to stop him. Her calculations were complete.
If the porters' words were free of exaggeration, and if Cheon Ryu-yeong had truly devised a plan to make the Blood Spear the Chief Escort Chief… then he could not be allowed to slip away.
She smiled again, a reassuring expression, and spoke.
"My curiosity made me act rudely. I apologize."
She bowed deeply. Even Jo Jeon-hu twitched at that, and Cheon Ryu-yeong's eyes flickered. The porters nearly rolled their eyes back in shock.
A proud Black Tortoise Unit martial artist of the Martial Alliance… bowing to a mere porter?
Unthinkable.
Dokgo Seol's eyes gleamed as she said to Cheon Ryu-yeong—
"Tonight… we will have a most enjoyable time."
Jo Jeon-hu nearly choked.
But Dokgo Seol was completely serious. It was as if she had found a pearl hidden in the mud.