The Visit – Peng Family (彭家) Qi (奇) (3)
Enough time passed for a cup of tea to be finished.
The calling card was brought up.
The waiter held it out, but Soun did not even glance at it. He simply opened his palm and told him to give it to Jimin instead.
Jimin asked,
"Why should I be the one to look at it?"
"Because you are learned (有識), older, and well acquainted with the affairs of the martial world. Even if I read it, I would not know who this person is or what he does. Unless it says Shaolin Temple or Wudang Sect, I would not recognize the name—and even then, once a personal name is written after it, I would not know who that refers to. The visit is not something I need. I had the card written so that you could read it."
Whether that argument made sense or not, Jimin let out a disbelieving laugh and accepted the calling card from the waiter.
He had made the visitor write it for her to read?
"And what do you intend to do with that?"
"You must tell me who he is. And who knows—if we collect these calling cards, might they not become a family honor someday? We could say that such people once came seeking me."
Curious who had sent the card, Jimin stopped listening.
Soun muttered to himself while she unfolded the card and read it.
"Peng Family (彭家)… Qi (奇)."
The characters were hastily scrawled.
Peng Qi (彭奇).
The head of the Hebei Peng Family.
Jimin's eyes widened, and she took a step back.
He was known as the master who perfected the traditional Peng Family blade art.
Extremely domineering and fierce, deeply versed even in fist and kick techniques.
The current head of the Hebei Peng Family.
A true master.
"He's the head of the Peng Family. His name is Peng Qi (彭奇)."
"Why didn't he name himself Peng Yi (彭二) instead?"
(Peng Yi—literally 'Peng Two,' sounding like 'spinning top' in Korean.)
"Oh, Young Master, please don't. He is not someone to treat lightly. The Hebei Peng Family bases itself entirely on its inherited blade art. They dominate much of Hebei Province and have influence even in the merchant circles. They are wealthy."
"Why? Because he is cruel and merciless, with vicious hands and a temper that flares like fire? It seems the jianghu values temperament more than character and virtue."
Soun spoke with a twisted tone, looking down on martial artists.
He criticized their rudeness while treating the jianghu as though it were a gathering of rabble.
Even Jimin, a martial artist herself, felt uneasy in this conversation.
It felt as though she too were being dragged into that crude stereotype and lumped together with them.
"Why would they value that? It is to avoid suffering something filthy."
Soun opened his book again.
"Tell him to leave."
"You want me to say that?"
"That will suffice. You are Jang Jimin of Mount Tian (天山). Basic conversation should be possible. Decline him politely. If that fails, I will handle the rest."
Again he said he would take care of it.
Jang Jimin felt troubled.
The head of the Peng Family was not someone she could handle.
The martial world, ruled by blades, maintained its fragile peace because people accurately gauged each other's strength and prevented unwinnable fights from occurring in the first place.
If someone was stronger, you avoided them, lowered yourself, stepped aside.
There was no written law enforcing it.
In the end, strength defined order in the jianghu.
As someone who was not a direct disciple of Mount Tian, Jimin would not last even a few exchanges against Peng Qi.
Even knowing the customs of the martial world, Peng Qi was not the type to quietly withdraw when told to leave.
"We are not asking to fight. Decline him politely and come back up."
"And if he refuses?"
"Then just come back up anyway."
Soun spoke with complete confidence—no, with casual indifference.
To refuse the visit of the Peng Family's head.
Among the great martial families, the Peng Family held a position that could not be ignored.
Simply granting him a brief meeting would ease her predicament.
He was thoughtless. Almost cruel.
Jimin gave up trying to persuade him.
She quickly descended.
He was not someone to keep waiting.
She dusted off the front and back of her martial robes, composed herself, and grasped her sword belt.
She hurried down the stairs.
The wooden steps rang louder than usual beneath her feet.
"I am Jang Jimin of Mount Tian (天山). The scholar does not wish to meet you, Great Hero. My apologies."
With fists clasped in salute, Jimin spoke, her apology genuine and heartfelt.
At the entrance stood Peng Qi and his five direct disciples.
Even one of those disciples would have been difficult for her to handle.
"I did not know a heroine of Mount Tian was in charge here. Why? Why the refusal?"
Peng Qi asked as though acceptance of his visit were only natural.
In truth, he had likely never been refused in his life.
She could not repeat Soun's words that he was a contemptible man.
It was better to avoid a direct explanation and answer in a measured tone.
"I was not given the detailed reason, but the intention was clear. My apologies."
Jang Jimin maintained her salute.
Her tone was low, her posture respectful.
She did not invoke Mount Tian's name explicitly, yet its weight was evident.
Peng Qi, too, could not treat Mount Tian lightly.
He looked at Jimin for a long moment.
He clearly recognized that she was not alone—and that this was not a place where he could create a disturbance without consequence.