novelraw Chapter 152 : How to Jam a Rod
Chapter 152 : How to Jam a Rod
Chapter 152: How to Jam a Rod
The daughter of the Hebei Peng Clan had arrived at the Tang Clan of Sichuan.
But calling her a mere daughter seemed inadequate—she was far too massive for that. At least, that’s how she appeared to the gatekeeper, whose eyes were shaded by her towering silhouette.
He thought, So this is what they mean by someone being eight cheok tall. Her massive broadsword and trained muscles radiated an overwhelming pressure that was impossible to ignore.
Startled, the gatekeeper quickly ran off to find Lady Tang Yeo-hye, the reason for this sudden visitor’s arrival.
A short woman came bursting out, throwing aside her work with poisons, her face etched with shock.
“Hwayeop! You could’ve at least said you were coming.”
Tang Yeo-hye, often teased for her height, looked even smaller standing next to Iron-Armed Bear Peng Hwayeop. The contrast was stark.
But neither woman seemed to mind the height difference. Their faces lit up with delight.
“If I did, I wouldn’t get to see that surprised face of yours.”
The gatekeeper flinched at the line, which sounded cheesy enough to give someone goosebumps.
Tang Yeo-hye grabbed Peng Hwayeop’s thick arm and pulled her toward her room. It seemed like they had a mountain of stories to catch up on.
“I met that troubleshooter you introduced me to—Dan Mujin.”
Peng Hwayeop brought it up the moment they sat down.
“Yeah? How was he? He’s good at what he does, right?”
As soon as Dan Mujin’s name came up, Tang Yeo-hye beamed and asked eagerly.
“When it comes to work… he’s scarily competent.”
Peng Hwayeop recalled the incident in Goyan, where that handsome young man and pretty boy had stirred the town upside down.
The performance they put on to lure out a lecher was still talked about like legend among the local women.
“But there’s something odd about him.”
She murmured as she twirled the too-small teacup in her hand.
Tang Yeo-hye nodded, as if she already knew.
“Yeah, he’s got a weird personality. Sometimes he’s just plain reckless and arrogant.”
Reckless and arrogant, huh? Peng Hwayeop silently glanced at Tang Yeo-hye’s petite face.
Her eyes were clearly trying to point something out.
“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“……”
Tang Yeo-hye twitched her brow as if asking if there was a problem, while Peng Hwayeop simply turned her gaze away, pretending it was nothing.
Smiling faintly, Tang Yeo-hye continued.
“Still, for all his arrogance, he’s a good guy. At the very least, I’d trust him to watch my back.”
Her gaze softened as if she was reminiscing about their time together.
The usual sharpness in her demeanor was nowhere to be found. Instead, a gentle smile played on her lips.
“Oh my, oh my.”
Peng Hwayeop exclaimed in surprise, snapping Tang Yeo-hye back to reality.
She tried to regain her usual edge, but it was too late. Her one and only friend had already caught that fleeting expression.
“...It’s not like that!”
Flustered beyond words, Tang Yeo-hye didn’t even bother with proper grammar as she blurted out her denial.
“Heh, no wonder Neung Sam’s been smiling so much lately.”
Peng Hwayeop smirked mischievously.
With Tang Yeo-hye’s temper, she’d always worried if anyone could even become her partner. And now this?
“I said it’s not like that!”
Tang Yeo-hye flailed and punched Peng Hwayeop’s thick arm.
It looked like a mouse picking a fight with a bear. Peng Hwayeop just laughed and took the punches.
Who’d have thought her friend would fall in love one day?
“But hold on, this is bad.”
Tang Yeo-hye stopped punching. The playful tone in Peng Hwayeop’s voice faded into concern.
“What’s wrong?”
“That weird part I mentioned earlier… it wasn’t about his personality.”
“If not that, then what?”
“…His sexual preference. I think he likes men.”
Tang Yeo-hye’s jaw dropped at the unexpected turn.
She stared at Peng Hwayeop with disbelief.
“What the hell are you talking about? Explain. Now.”
“Ahem. So, I had him take on a job in Goyan involving a male courtesan…”
Peng Hwayeop proceeded to spill every detail.
At first, Tang Yeo-hye scoffed at the absurdity of such a request, but as she listened, her expression grew more serious.
“Ilhong…? That pretty boy? He… made a move?”
“Don’t know if it was just for the job, but they had a strange vibe…”
They were too affectionate. More than what you’d expect from close brothers.
Ilhong, dolled up from head to toe to lure in the target, had been stunning enough to tempt even other men.
“Maybe all he needed was a push—and I might’ve lit the match without realizing.”
Peng Hwayeop scratched her head sheepishly.
“You had to pick that kind of request!”
Tang Yeo-hye smacked her friend’s broad shoulders again.
She might’ve introduced them, but she never imagined that was the nature of the job.
The client had insisted it couldn’t be disclosed, citing family reputation. But this?
“Yeo-hye, it’s starting to hurt. No internal energy strikes, please.”
She thought back to how Ilhong would always cling to Dan Mujin like a shadow.
That sly fox… Seemed like he was trying to beat her to the punch while her back was turned.
Wait—can he even get on that stove in the first place? Aren’t they both guys?
Well, they were both handsome. The visual did kind of work…
“Ugh, this won’t do! I’m going there right now!”
Tang Yeo-hye sprang to her feet, hurriedly packing her belongings.
Peng Hwayeop stared in disbelief.
“Hey, where are you going?”
“Beijing!”
“Are you crazy? Your family’s in chaos, and you’re ditching now? You’re supposed to be training to inherit the Tang Clan!”
“Screw it. No one in this damn family likes me anyway!”
Most of her kin had joined Tang Ak’s coup attempt, and after its failure, her position became precarious.
No wonder she always wanted to get out of that house.
“I already submitted the form. I’m joining the Murim Alliance. I’ll just beat up bastards like the Murong Clan’s eldest daughter. But before that…”
“Before that?”
Her mind was clearly made up. Knowing he couldn’t stop her now, Peng Hwayeop just asked instead.
“That vixen Ilhong… Wait, he’s a guy, right? What am I even supposed to call him? Anyway! I need to find out the truth, for peace of mind.”
To think she’d use movement arts to dash all the way to distant Beijing over a guy.
Peng Hwayeop could only marvel at her friend’s newfound determination and initiative.
So this is what a woman in love looks like…
“And if it turns out there really is something going on between them… I’m going to spike every meal of his with ten times the laxatives.”
And the way women of the Tang Clan expressed affection was notoriously extreme.
"Feed him that much and it won’t just be diarrhea—he’ll be at death’s door."
"It’s fine! That guy can handle it!"
Tang Yeo-hye replied, almost proud of Dan Mujin.
He wasn’t poison-resistant or anything, so where did that confidence even come from?
My condolences, and good luck to you, Dan Mujin Master.
Peng Hwayeop could only silently hope he’d endure Tang Yeo-hye’s brutal way of showing love.
The midday sun blazed mercilessly on my head.
It wasn’t that I’d started training at noon on purpose—rather, I’d been dodging sword strikes all night long, and it had gone on until noon.
In other words, I’d been sweating buckets training all day long.
“What is mu (武)?”
Hwang Geolgae asked in his faux Daoist tone, stroking his beard and spouting cryptic nonsense.
“Can you stop talking in riddles like that, please?”
Smack!
I was struck with such force I couldn’t even open my mouth to scream, just rolled across the ground in silence.
Ilhong looked at me with pity from the side.
“I’ll ask again. What is mu?”
Hwang Geolgae gazed down at me with meaningful eyes. Clearly, he wanted a specific answer.
“…It’s beating people up.”
Smack!
The long end of his staff whipped across my back like a lash.
My mouth fell open, but not even a scream came out.
Ilhong glanced at me, eyes telling me to stop resisting and just answer already.
But come on, I wasn’t wrong.
“Tch, I’ll ask again. What is martial arts?”
What’s with this philosophical crap about swordplay? Why not just teach me how to stab properly?
“You just beat me up with martial arts. Proves my point.”
“……”
Seeing me stubbornly argue even as I got hit, Hwang Geolgae let out a deep sigh, seemingly giving up.
Guess he’d been hoping for a proper master-disciple Zen-style exchange.
But that’s not us. We’re more like—he sees me, he hits me.
“Martial arts are not simply tools for violence. They are a profound study of embodying the myriad things of Heaven and Earth within oneself—this microcosm—and escaping from base emotions and worldly delusions.”
Apparently, it’s about shedding the human condition and striving for a higher state of being.
“Ah, yes… is that so?”
Judging by my blank face, he must’ve realized I didn’t understand a word of it.
Hwang Geolgae’s expression twisted with frustration.
“This is why I don’t bother teaching you with words—I just beat it into you.”
What a joke. Last time he said he kept hitting me because he liked how it felt.
“You’re still hopeless, so I’ll teach you with your body, as always.”
He should’ve just done that from the start.
I began stretching, recalling the relentless sword swings he’d subjected me to all morning.
“The name of this sword technique is the Dog-Slaying Sword Technique (斬狗劍法).”
Hwang Geolgae put down the Dog-Beating Staff and unsheathed a deadly blade from the training ground, solemnly reciting the name.
But hearing it just made me lose any sense of seriousness.
“You mocked me when I called my staff moves stuff like Demon-Slaying Staff and Revenge Staff.”
Isn’t that basically just a variation of the Dog-Beating Staff Technique? Can’t believe a beggar came up with such a half-assed name.
“You brat, take this seriously. This sword art is a secret, exclusive technique created by the Sect Leader for his successor. It’s not something to joke about.”
He said it was a different class from the Branch-Summoning Sword Technique and that the entire Beggars’ Union was dying to learn it. I just accepted it like it was no big deal.
“No one’s criticizing the martial art. I’m just saying the name sucks. Who named it, anyway?”
“I did.”
Of course Hwang Geolgae did—he based it off the Dog-Beating Staff. Typical of his slapdash habits.
Then he moved us to a more secluded part of the training ground, warning me it was going to get tougher.
“Amidst the deluge of strikes, learn the form and posture. Maybe not others, but you, Heaven-Slaying Star, might pull it off.”
For the record, this guy doesn’t use a practice sword—he uses a real one. To draw out the Heaven-Slaying Star in me, he imbues it with killing intent and aims for my life.
It’s a no-compromise, survival-first training method—no concern for my safety whatsoever.
A real sword wound rips flesh and spills blood. It’s not like a brief sting from a staff.
What a sight…
He looked pleased—whether because I was training with a sword or because he enjoyed hearing me scream in pain, I wasn’t sure.
Shiiiing.
I drew my sword and stood face-to-face with Hwang Geolgae. As I gripped the cold hilt, a crimson aura began to dance like a ribbon.
My slender fingers trembled, almost inviting the fight to begin.
“Oh, right. Master. One question.”
“What is it, you brat?”
He raised the tip of his sword, ready to pounce.
“Among all the Heaven-Slaying Stars in history…”
“What about them?”
I had a feeling I’d forget this question soon—once my vision turned red from blood and instinct took over.
They say Evil Stars aren’t truly human. If it has a human form, maybe…
“Was there ever… a woman?”
Hwang Geolgae furrowed his brow at the out-of-nowhere question.
“There was.”
“…Who was she?”
I looked down at my hand, still trembling.
I’d noticed it for a while now—these fingers were too delicate to be a man’s. Too refined, too graceful.
“You must’ve heard of her in stories. The previous Heaven-Slaying Star who drenched the Murim in blood and turned the world into a lake of gore.”
“……”
The fingers that had been twitching so eagerly just a moment ago… froze.
I stared in silence at the palm now glowing red with qi.
Spring had come to the Princess’s Palace.
Pale pink blossoms were beginning to bloom.
But in one corner of the palace, the air was colder than midwinter.
At the feet of Cheon Sugong lay the corpse of a palace maid who had recently gone missing.
The signs of poisoning were blatant.
Elsewhere in the blossoming garden, Princess Peach Blossom sipped tea, blissfully unaware.
“Call for him.”
Cheon Sugong murmured.
A eunuch of the Eastern Depot asked quietly, “Whom shall I summon, sir?”
“The one who can sniff out murderous intent like a hound.”
Cheon Sugong recalled the events of Baekyangchon and said they needed someone like that.
“Is there such a person? Among the troubleshooters?”
“There is. One worth using.”
Rude, disloyal—but if paid, he’d deliver above expectations.
“Go find the one called Dan Mujin.”
“Yes, sir.”
At his order, the eunuchs of the Eastern Depot bowed deeply.