I held the fishing rod, but I didn’t catch anything.

Sometimes I’d wonder why, in old stories, men like Jiang Ziya would cast a fishing line and never actually fish anything up.

Probably because they hated eating fish—like me.

Maybe the scales ruined their appetite.

Maybe they just hated catfish.

Anyway, like Jiang Ziya, I sat with my line in the water, staring endlessly at Jeongpyeong Lake. What made me interested in Jiang Ziya wasn’t just his fame—it was something he once said:

"Spilled water can’t be put back in the bowl."

He said that when his wife, who had left him while he was still poor, came crawling back after hearing he’d become a lord.

What a temper.

I’ve always figured Jiang Ziya was the same kind of man I am.

There’s no mention of him learning martial arts in any of the old texts, but I’m convinced he knew some. He was a descendant of Shennong, known as the Flame Emperor.

The Flame Emperor, Shennong.

Honestly, that sounds less like an imperial name and more like a Jianghu nickname. Especially to someone like me, who mastered the Flame Lineage of the Golden Nine Wandering Arts.

Jiang Ziya was famous for winning with small forces against overwhelming odds—like in the so-called Muye War. But in my opinion, that had nothing to do with strategy. He just beat the hell out of them.

Or maybe not. Who cares?

Anyway, as I gazed out at the still lake, I let myself drift into these idle thoughts. I used them to calm my inner fury and wait for news from the lackeys.

***

Lake fishing, day three.

Water Strider Woo Cheol-jin came back with word that the Namcheonryeon forces were stationed at a place called Bokyang.

Bokyang was a key transport hub about half a sijin from Jeongpyeong Lake—easy enough to reach with a bit of light-footwork.

Apparently, they were waiting there for other black groups who had agreed to join the fight before moving together.

Which meant it was the perfect moment for me to join up with Namcheonryeon too.

I could just pose as one of the Woonwol Brotherhood thugs.

Over the past three days, I hadn’t caused them any trouble. Turns out a lot of them actually had regular jobs tied into the community, so I left them be.

Instead, I wandered around the shops near the lake, listening for gossip. I heard whispers that their boss Byeok Sa-un had died—and talk that the tribute collections were over.

Naturally, that was my doing.

Anyway, my three-day fishing life came to an end. I changed into Brotherhood clothes Woo Cheol-jin brought me, marking the end of my time playing an escort.

From Black-Clad Man to escort…

From escort to low-tier black group thug.

Three of Namcheonryeon’s messengers might recognize my face, but even if they did, it didn’t matter. I could always show up as the Lord of Haomun and slaughter the Sword-Breaking Society directly.

Before leaving Jeongpyeong Lake, I sat Woo Cheol-jin down beside me at the fishing spot.

“Woo Cheol-jin, you’re the new Brotherhood Leader now.”

His beady little Water Strider eyes widened.

“Sir?”

“When I leave, it’s your show. You can’t live as a strider forever.”

“Ah, yes.”

“Let me leave you with a few things.”

“Yes.”

“First, stop collecting tribute. Tell your boys to find honest work. Everyone’s food around here tastes like garbage because of that tribute. And if they’re just pickpocketing for cash, they’ll get slapped around like they did with me.”

Woo Cheol-jin replied weakly.

“Understood…”

“If you’ve got guys with absolutely no work and no food, send them to the Black Rabbit Lodge. I’ll take them in. They won’t starve there. But be warned—between martial artists killing them and my brutal training, they could die. Keep that in mind before you send anyone.”

He stared at me.

“You’re the leader of a black faction?”

“Woo, I killed the previous leader of Black Rabbit Lodge. Most of the subordinates I spared. My people are all like that. If you’d come at me the other day, all of you would’ve been fish food.”

“Ah…”

“Starting to get it now?”

“Yes. Very clearly.”

He hesitated, then asked,

“But… why are you heading to Namcheonryeon alone?”

I answered with mock seriousness, even though the reason was simple.

“Because watching a good fight is more fun than watching a fire. The Sword-Breaking Society and Namcheonryeon are both scumbags. It’s gonna get brutal. Who do you think’ll win?”

“I… don’t know.”

“You still don’t know, even though the Sword-Breaking Society boss is dead? I killed him.”

“Yes.”

“Then obviously Namcheonryeon’s going to win. Just keep that in mind.”

I stared at Woo Cheol-jin for a moment, wondering if I’d ever see him again.

Probably not.

After thinking for a bit, I said,

“I’ll send someone back later to check in on how the folks around Jeongpyeong Lake are doing.”

“Yes.”

“If the food and tea taste better… if the shopkeepers and their workers look like they’re actually living decent lives… I’ll take you guys in under Haomun. But if nothing’s changed, my subordinates will come and start a massacre. Some of you’ll be fish food. I mean, the fish have to eat people sometimes too, right? They’re always the ones getting eaten. Must be frustrating. Na-mu A-mi-ta-bul. Asura Balbalta.”

“Yes…”

He didn’t seem too bright, but Woo Cheol-jin slowly nodded like he was chewing on my words.

“I’ll remember the name Haomun. So… that means you’re the Lord of Haomun?”

“That’s right. I’m fighting Ilwido River Crossing right now. I’ve got enemies all across Jianghu—and when I don’t, I make new ones. That’s what it means to be the Lord of Haomun.”

“I’ll keep looking into it.”

With that, I said my farewell to the lake that had kept me calm for the past three days.

“Jeongpyeong Lake…”

“Yes?”

“There’s not a damn thing around here touched by human hands, and it’s still beautiful. Just looking at it made all my madness vanish for a «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» while. I owe this place a few days of peace.”

He nodded while looking at the lake.

“It is beautiful.”

I smirked. If he could see the beauty in this lake, then he’d do just fine as the new leader.

I pointed toward the lake.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“Look at that. No matter how many times you see it, the scenery changes every time. In the day, sunlight dances on it. At night, moonlight pours down. This is a special place.”

I muttered like some old man, then said to Woo Cheol-jin,

“The people who live near this lake are just like that. They’ll do just fine without black groups like us. Leave them be. They’re busy trying to survive.”

For the first time, Woo Cheol-jin shared what he was actually thinking.

“You spared us… so I’ll do everything I can to disappear from this place with the Brotherhood.”

Only then did I stop seeing him as just a water strider.

“I picked a good new boss. If you’re still alive—we’ll meet again. I’m off.”

“Take care.”

In Jianghu, most days are just another round of killing or fighting. Or—like today—meeting and parting ways.

I left Jeongpyeong Lake behind.

***

After parting with Woo Cheol-jin, I headed for Bokyang and lined up like a country boy volunteering for war.

Looked like I had to write down some basic personal info.

The guys ahead of me in line went into the barracks, filled out their names, and came out with a little pay in hand. As they walked past, I caught bits of their chatter—didn’t sound like much money. But rumors were spreading: if Namcheonryeon defeated the Sword-Breaking Society, there’d be huge rewards.

And for some reason… all of it felt laughable.

There were guys from other black groups too, and plenty of wandering fighters who never missed a scrap like this.

I looked no different from the other lowlives, decked out in Woonwol Brotherhood gear.

When it was finally my turn, I stepped into the barracks. A clerk sat at a small desk, scribbling in a ledger, and asked:

“You there—what’s your name, and where’re you from? Let’s start with: you’re a swordsman, right?”

Imitating the Water Strider’s tone, I replied:

“I am Woo Cheol-jin, from the Woonwol Brotherhood near Jeongpyeong Lake.”

“Woonwol Brotherhood, huh. Think I’ve heard of it before… You here alone?”

“That’s right.”

“Here to make money?”

“I have a personal grudge against the Sword-Breaking Society.”

“Knew it. Those guys have more enemies than anyone. What’s your skill level?”

“Never lost a duel back home. They call me Jeongpyeong’s Best, Woonwol’s Best, even the Lake’s Best. I’m an undefeated swordsman where I’m from.”

The registrar let out a sigh.

“People from Jeongpyeong must love to talk. I’m looking forward to this. Give this little brother three standard silver bars.”

The guy in charge of the payments blinked in disbelief.

“Three, sir?”

“He said he’s undefeated, didn’t he? Give him three.”

“Yes, sir.”

As I accepted the silver from a guy clearly younger than me, I asked,

“What’s the usual amount?”

He answered with a bored tone,

“Getting even one is considered generous.”

I nodded.

“The registrar has a sharp eye, then.”

“Yeah yeah, we’re busy. Move along. Next.”

“……”

If I smacked this rude bastard here, I’d probably end up at war with Namcheonryeon by myself. So I let it slide.

“…Little punk.”

Letting it slide and reflexively swearing are two different things.

“Excuse me? What was that?”

The registrar cut in.

“You, shut it. Is that how you talk to someone who just volunteered?”

Seems like my time meditating by Jeongpyeong Lake really mellowed me out.

After being kicked out of the tent, I stood among the rest of the riffraff in line.

Apparently word got out that I’d received three silver bars, and people started glancing me up and down with curious looks.

While I was locking eyes with a few idiots, a Namcheonryeon martial artist approached and spoke loudly.

“I bring word from the Lord of Namcheonryeon. Departure is in half a gak. Anyone who hasn’t received their pay yet will be settled later. Our objective is the Sword-Breaking Society’s main base. The Lord will lead the battle personally. Do not act out. Desertion, betrayal, infighting—though we appreciate your support, if our lord becomes angry… there will be no saving you. Don’t end up headless for trying to stand out.”

I let it go in one ear and out the other, hands behind my back, casually walking among the Namcheonryeon troops.

‘Now… where might Sadohaeng be?’

Sadohaeng—the so-called number one in Namcheon.

But really, Namcheon’s barely more than a big town. Bigger than Ilyang County, sure, but still.

As I wandered about, I stopped in front of the largest tent when I heard a voice from inside.

“Let’s move.”

“Yes, sir.”

A tall man stepped out.

His hair was coarse and stiff-looking, and his wide mouth curved unnaturally at the ends, giving the impression he was always smiling. But it wasn’t the smile of joy—it was the kind born from overwhelming confidence.

No doubt about it. That had to be Sadohaeng.

A needle in a sack will still poke through.

I stood among the crowd with my arms crossed. As Sadohaeng walked by, he stopped and stared at me.

Strange. I wasn’t leaking any energy—so why was he looking?

Then he grinned with those big teeth and said to me,

“Little brother, I like your face.”

I nodded calmly.

“Yours isn’t bad either.”

Sadohaeng didn’t say anything, but the eyes of his subordinates widened in shock.

“…!”

Then Sadohaeng suddenly laughed and continued walking with his men.

“Alright, alright. He’s on our side. How would he even know who I am?”

“But sir…”

“Let’s go.”

At the back of the group, one of the messengers who had met me before stared at me, eyes wide as saucers.

I pointed at him, then brought a finger to my lips.

Shh.

Sadohaeng reached the center where everyone had gathered, looked around at the warriors who had joined Namcheonryeon, and raised a longsword high.

“Brothers! This is the Sword-Breaking Society leader’s sword. Whether it’s real or not—I can’t say yet. But if someone handed over his weapon just to deceive us, I find that more insulting than the deception itself. I regret even wasting my time fighting someone like that. Real or fake, by tonight, the Sword-Breaking Society will be no more. If you came here for money—great. If you came here for revenge—even better. When Namcheonryeon wins and absorbs the Sword-Breaking Society, you who fought with us will be my brothers too. Let’s go!”

I listened to his speech with a smirk.

‘Brothers, my ass.’

He was clearly the type who clung to manly pride like it was his last breath.

So far, everything was going according to plan.

Fishing at the lake had inspired me, and my plan was this:

First, beat the crap out of the Sword-Breaking Society with Sadohaeng.

Then, beat the crap out of Sadohaeng.

Perfect. Flawless.

If Sadohaeng took defeat like a man, I’d bring Namcheonryeon into Haomun.

If he threw a tantrum, I’d dismantle Namcheonryeon too.

He’s got a good-looking face, sure—but who knows what he’ll do.