The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel-Chapter 153: Journey to Sichuan - 1

“I’ll take the faster route since the schedule’s been delayed.”

At the Escort Captain’s declaration, the scenery around us shifted in an instant from paved roads to rugged, unpaved ones.

“This carriage has awful suspension.”

Seriously, what kind of carriage doesn’t even have shock absorbers? I felt every bump of the dirt road directly through my ass and muttered to Hwa-rin.

“No kidding. I mean, the main road goes straight to Sichuan anyway. Wouldn’t it be easier to just take that? Why go out of our way to suffer?”

“They said the delay was our fault. Since the main road passes through several major cities, I guess they can’t afford even that much of a delay.”

“But if we don’t take the main road, isn’t it just like last time when we ran into those bandits? This area looks perfect for them to pop out again.”

Hwa-rin’s expression showed her unease—probably remembering those run-ins with bandits during our last trip.

“That’s not a problem.”

“Huh?”

“No bandit would dare mess with the Tang Clan.”

Hwa-rin, you might feel uneasy because your hair’s purple and you didn’t get to enjoy the perks of growing up on the Tang Clan’s nectar, but just being from a prestigious orthodox clan gives you some serious backing.

“Still feels risky.”

“Don’t worry. Give it a few more days and you’ll feel it too.”

No jackal dares move when a tiger’s pack walks through.

This isn’t a world where everyone has black hair. The color of your hair tells others which clan you belong to. So if a procession of people with perfectly coordinated violet hair passes through, no sane bandit would pick a fight.

Unless someone’s got a death wish or actually has the power to deal with the Tang Clan, that is.

--------

“You were right.”

Even after passing deep through the mountains without a single bandit in sight, Hwa-rin glanced at me in awe. I smiled smugly back at her, like “See? Told you so,” though I was honestly a little impressed myself.

When I traveled with Hwa-rin before, we had to constantly worry about bandits—and we even ran into some. Maybe now, just seeing violet hair is enough to make people think the heavens are about to fall and run for cover.

No need to worry about bandits, no need to hire guards, no need to worry about dying—what a comfortable journey.

Well, except for one thing that’s been bothering me this whole time.

“Is that black-haired guy really the Clan Head’s illegitimate son?”

“Didn’t you see him eat pineapple pizza?”

“Yeah, but even after seeing that, it’s hard to believe.”

“Who knew the Tang Clan had a secret like that.”

“So Tang Geo-ho actually... did that...”

“And subjected him to such vile experiments. Tsk tsk.”

“What’ll happen once the Young Lord passes away?”

“Hey, don’t speak such blasphemy.”

Suspicious stares. Curious glances. Whispered rumors.

The Tang Clan’s warriors haven’t shut up since we joined them. They say they’ll treat us like guests, but it feels more like being a zoo orangutan on display.

What, never seen a black-haired bastard before? If you’re gonna gossip, do it to my face instead of whispering behind my back. I wanted to snap at them, but being the introvert I am, I knew I’d end up screaming, “You violet-haired brats!” and wrecking my image, so I decided to keep my mouth shut for now.

“If you’re so curious, just ask me directly. Why say things loud enough for us to hear and act like we didn’t?”

Hwa-rin wasn’t having it. She shot an annoyed look at the gossipers, her voice carrying clearly.

That’s my girl! Doing what I can’t!

Ahem.

As the notorious anti-gossip Tang Hwa-rin glared daggers at them, all but one of the warriors quickly looked away. One, however, kept staring and eventually started walking toward me.

Finally—someone brave enough to talk to me directly?

“Are you Kang Yun-ho?”

His tone was surprisingly polite. Normally, bastards like me don’t get treated as actual clan members, but this guy had manners.

“Yes. You’re the warrior who bought Storm of the Tang Clan last time, right?”

Now that I saw him up close, I recognized him. He was the one who had been so moved by the book that he paid a ridiculous amount of money for it. Come to think of it, isn’t he the reason all this mess started?

“I meant to greet you properly again, but the situation didn’t allow it. So then, you’re also the one who wrote Storm of the Tang Clan, correct?”

“Yes. I go by Ho-pil.”

“Then I’d like to ask—does that mean Tang Jeong is actually the Clan Head?”

So that’s why he came. It was about the novel.

“Tang Jeong and the Clan Head are, strictly speaking, different characters. But it’s true that I mixed in stories I heard from my mother for... various reasons.”

We never meant to expose our secret history in detail. It was just a practical move—a way to get someone to read between the lines and show up when things got dangerous. Tang Jeong is based on truth, but he’s still a fictional character.

That’s something I should clarify while we’re here at the Tang Clan.

“Ah, so it’s fictional, but based on real events.”

“More accurately, it’s mostly fiction with just a dash of truth mixed in. I’ve never actually met the Clan Head in person.”

Even if I’m a bastard son, I have to be careful with how I speak. I can’t just go around calling the Clan Head “father.”

“I see. In that case, may I make a request?”

“What kind?”

When I asked, the warrior looked hesitant.

Don’t tell me he’s going to say, “I’ll only tell you if you promise to accept.” That’s the worst way to ask a favor.

People like that act all offended if you say no. There should be a law that you must accept those kinds of requests no matter what they are, or don’t bother asking.

I waited silently for his answer, and he reached into his robes and pulled something out. frёeωebɳovel.com

Huh? Storm of the Tang Clan?

I stared at him, surprised, and he spoke with a slightly flushed face.

“Would you be willing to sign this for me?”

Huh? A signature?

--------

Looks like Storm of the Tang Clan is a huge hit among the Escort Captain’s men.

“Me too!”

“I’d like one as well!”

“Hey! I’m the one who bought that copy—why are you getting it signed?”

“I’ll pay you back later!”

“But I don’t even have a copy!”

Once one person got a signature, the rest of the guards surrounded me, books in hand.

“Ho-pil. I was moved by Storm of the Tang Clan. This is who we truly are. People in the martial world misunderstand us.”

One of the guards hugged his signed copy like it was sacred and told me that.

“Haha... is that so.”

I casually looked toward the Escort Captain, who had been pretending not to pay attention but was clearly aware of the situation. A few guards caught my glance and spoke up.

“Please don’t hate him too much. He just has a bias against black hair, but he’s a good man.”

“That’s right. He’s a bit old-fashioned and frugal, but he’s incredibly trustworthy.”

“The Clan Head wouldn’t have entrusted him with your life if he weren’t worthy.”

Wow. This is just like parents saying, “Sure, he’s not great at this or that, but he’s got a good heart.”

“I get it, but I can’t help the way I feel.”

Other than the part where he said he’d cut my damn hand off, he’s pretty righteous for an orthodox sect type. If he hadn’t said that, I might’ve been moved and thought, “Wow, upright people really do exist!”

As I turned away with a bitter smile, one of the guards sheepishly pointed to my chest.

“U-um... that Volume 3 of Storm of the Tang Clan you’re carrying—could we maybe read it... together?”

“I promised the readers in Yichang. I’ll publish it once everything is over.”

That book’s my life insurance. You think you’re gonna read it for free?

“But... can Volume 3 even be published?”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

One of the guards asked me with a worried tone.

“You can always revise the story or adjust the future plotline. I will publish Volume 3.”

It’s not just my life insurance—it’s my first hit in this world. If I don’t finish this one properly, I might as well change my pen name from Ho-pil to Eraser.

No matter what, I need to wrap this up successfully so I can keep producing hits in the future.

“You’re right. That so-called secret story? We all read it, but only the Escort Captain noticed anything. Everyone else just went ‘Huh? Was that real?’ and moved on. If Author Ho-pil rewrites it, no one will know the difference.”

Exactly what I’m saying.

“So we can read Volume 3 once everything’s over, right?”

The warriors stared at me with hopeful eyes. Everyone surrounding me was eyeing the book tucked inside my robes.

This might be useful as a bargaining chip.

If it’s not just one or two people who want it, I might be able to use this to my advantage.

“If we arrive safely at the Tang Clan and everything is resolved, I’ll show you Volume 3 before the readers in Yichang get to see it.”

“Really?”

The faces of the Escort Captain’s men brightened instantly. Of course I’ll show it. But not for free.

“In exchange, I’d like you all to speak well of Storm of the Tang Clan once we arrive.”

Basically, I want you to carry me like a bride in a palanquin and turn public opinion in my favor. Then I’ll let you have a peek.

“That’s not difficult at all!”

“Of course! Not just the book—we’ll say good things about Ho-pil himself!”

“Storm of the Tang Clan is far too precious to fade into obscurity! Naturally we’ll sing its praises.”

“Exactly! I wanna see more of those two sister-like swordswomen and their love rivalry!”

“Hahaha.”

If I don’t survive, you won’t get Volume 3. So protect me like your lives depend on it.

I stoked their enthusiasm for Volume 3 even further while we chatted about the novel.

--------

We had plenty of martial strength, and the relationship with our escort team was steadily improving. But even smooth journeys run into roadblocks eventually.

“The path ahead is blocked.”

A landslide had apparently taken out the route we were meant to follow.

“This path’s blocked too!”

Even the detour we tried was obstructed by piles of dirt and fallen trees.

“That’s not a good sign. This is a classic bandit tactic.”

Watching the detour attempts, I leaned toward Hwa-rin and spoke.

“Huh?”

“They block off alternate routes with dirt mounds and then wait in a spot that gives them the upper hand. Bandits do this a lot.”

We were being escorted by the Tang Clan, so it probably wouldn’t become a serious problem—but something felt off.

Both roads were wide enough for carriages to pass easily. For someone to intentionally block roads that size, it had to be a sizable group of bandits.

“Stay alert! Everyone remain on guard!”

The Escort Captain must have felt things could escalate, because he shouted the warning without hesitation.

The Tang Clan warriors became visibly # Nоvеlight # tense as they advanced through the mountain path.

“It’s a village. Maybe it really was just a landslide?”

Following the last remaining route led us to a small, isolated village nestled in the mountains. Maybe a slash-and-burn farmers’ settlement? Though some of the buildings looked unusually well-constructed for that.

“Welcome.”

The only two-story building in the village—a guesthouse. Inside, a bearded man greeted us.

Must be the innkeeper. This place is so remote they probably don’t even have a proper clerk.

“Everyone must be hungry. Set the table with carbonara for everyone.”

The Escort Captain, after confirming that everyone had taken a seat, ordered the man to prepare the food.

“Carbonara? What’s that?”

Ah, so remote they’ve never heard of carbonara.

“You don’t know carbonara? Fine, then do you have aglio e olio? Bring that instead.”

“Ha ha...”

The man gave an awkward laugh and looked flustered.

“What kind of inn doesn’t even have aglio e olio? Then do you serve gukbap? Just bring us any kind of gukbap.”

“We don’t serve gukbap either.”

“An inn that doesn’t serve gukbap?! Then what do you serve?”

No pasta. No gukbap. Don’t tell me this is one of those inns that only serves boiled potatoes.

“We can serve somyeon, if you’d like.”

The dish he offered was none other than somyeon—plain Korean wheat noodles, a classic menu item in any traditional martial arts story.

“Somyeon? Tch, what kind of food is that... Fine, serve it.”

The Escort Captain looked displeased but sat down.

“We also have dumplings. How about some of those?”

Dumplings? That sounds good. After such a long trip, surely they wouldn’t make us eat only somyeon, right?

I wasn’t the only one thinking that. The Tang Clan entourage all turned to look at the Escort Captain expectantly.

“Bring some dumplings too.”

Sensing the silent pressure, the Escort Captain gave in with a reluctant nod.

“One order of somyeon and dumplings per person!”

“Wait a moment!”

The Escort Captain grabbed the man’s sleeve before he could leave.

“Yes?”

“Make it one dumpling per three people.”

“Ah... I see. Understood.”

Some of the group’s expressions briefly twisted in disappointment, but they quickly masked it with resigned acceptance. “That’s just how our Escort Captain is,” they seemed to be saying as they waited for their food.

A long journey to Sichuan, and we finally reached a village guesthouse.

Everyone looked content to be resting under a roof again after several days on the road—but I couldn’t relax.

Something’s wrong.

They don’t serve pasta or gukbap... but they serve somyeon?

What genre is this? Suddenly it feels like we’ve switched stories.

“Here’s your water.”

The innkeeper returned and began passing out water cups to the Tang Clan members.

“Thank you. By the way, do you have any bamboo leaf wine?”

“Ah, well, perhaps we do. Shall I check?”

Suspicious.

Very suspicious.

How can an inn skip aglio e olio and gukbap but have somyeon and dumplings—and bamboo leaf wine of all things?

Every hair on my body stood on end.

“I’ll let you know if it turns up later.”

I waved the innkeeper away and began scanning the room.

It felt like being the only two-eyed man in a world of one-eyed people. The problem is, I might be the only one who can tell something’s off.

Maybe I’m overreacting. No—think, Kang Yun-ho. Something’s off. Something’s not right. Look around. Search for anything strange.

There’s no way they’d skip such simple pasta dishes and instead offer somyeon.

Somyeon and dumplings? And bamboo leaf wine, which is a premium liquor? No way they’d have that in a village like this.

It’s like someone who’s never run a guesthouse is just improvising the whole thing...

Aha.

“Hwa-rin. Don’t drink the water.”

I raised my hand and stopped her just as she was about to sip.

“Huh? Why?”

“I think... we’ve walked into a trap.”