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Chapter 02
The Weakest Under Heaven Village
Jilin Province.
“Waaah!”
Having finally found the right path after wandering in the wrong direction, Kang Yu’s eyes sparkled.
The city was bustling with life.
Every street was packed with people—shouting vendors trying to outdo each other, hawkers dripping with sweat as they grilled skewers, and peddlers weaving through the crowd with sticks of candied fruit on their fingers.
“Sweet and crunchy! The best sugar-coated haws in all of the Central Plains! Come and taste!”
“Wow.”
For Kang Yu, who had lived his whole life in an isolated mountain village, this was an overwhelming sight.
He had never seen so many people before.
Watching the throngs of townsfolk pass by, he recalled what the village elders had told him.
“Yu.”
“Yes, Grandpa?”
“Do you know what the strongest thing in the world is?”
“A tiger?”
“No.”
“Not even a tiger? But it’s the king of beasts!”
“The strongest thing… could even make your old grandpa ride that tiger if it wanted to.”
“There you go bragging again.”
“I’m not bragging, boy…”
“Anyway, I don’t know what’s the strongest.”
“It’s the common folk.”
“The common folk?”
“Yes. Those who farm and trade and live ordinary lives—when their strength gathers as one, they can overturn the world itself.”
“Really? The whole world?”
“Of course. They could replace kings, change nations, turn the world upside down. They’re gentle and humble, but when they unite, there’s no one stronger than the people.”
Even the other villagers had agreed that day.
“That’s right. If you look at the big picture, the common people are the strongest.”
“Well, would you look at that—since when do you say anything that makes sense?”
“Hah, even that blowhard Hwang admits it—must be true.”
For once, the constantly bickering villagers had spoken with one voice.
“The strongest thing in the world is the common folk.”
Kang Yu looked again at the endless sea of people around him.
“So all these people… are super powerful masters?”
He felt no aura from anyone nearby.
But since the elders had said the common folk were the strongest, it couldn’t mean they truly had no power.
They must have reached the highest state of mastery—“returning to simplicity” (返朴歸眞)—so complete that their strength was perfectly hidden.
“I’m really weak, huh…”
Surrounded by masters who had attained such transcendent calm, Kang Yu realized just how small he was.
“Excuse me, coming through.”
He squeezed carefully through the crowd, wary of offending any of these great masters.
A few times he bumped shoulders, but each time the people smiled kindly.
“Are you okay?”
“My apologies.”
The village scholar used to say:
“An empty cart rattles the loudest, and a ripe stalk of rice bows low.”
“Oh! Pardon me!”
Just like the scholar said, even those he accidentally bumped into were humble and polite.
Watching them go, Kang Yu made up his mind—
He too would become strong yet gentle, powerful yet gracious.
And truly, these masters’ generosity knew no bounds.
“Step right up! Touch my face before I count to fifty, and I’ll pay you five times your bet! Who dares to try!?”
A crowd was gathering in an open square.
“Wait, really? You’ll pay five times just for touching your face?”
“Exactly so!”
“Well, I’ll be damned…”
It was an unusually generous bet, with silver coins piled openly on a crate.
Yet no one volunteered to try.
“Tch. Cowards.”
The gambler’s gaze fell upon someone.
“You there, young man! Care to try your luck?”
“Me?!”
It was Kang Yu, watching curiously from the crowd.
“Yes, you.”
The gambler looked him over from head to toe—
a baby-faced youth with soft limbs and a large bundle on his back.
A clear drifter.
He looked weak enough that if the gambler just let him win a little, it would draw in more customers.
“Since you’re my first challenger, there’s no entry fee. But if you manage to touch my face, I’ll give you one tael of silver.”
“One tael?”
“Indeed.”
“Wow.”
Kang Yu had never used silver in his life, but he knew from the villagers how valuable it was.
“A single tael feeds a family of four for five days,” they had said.
He raised his hand.
“Yes! I’ll try!”
The gambler grinned inwardly.
This kid was perfect bait.
“Ha ha, very good! You look quick on your feet—I’ll have to stay sharp.”
“No, I’m really slow.”
Sure you are.
“Modest, too. All right, when I say ‘start,’ we begin.”
“Okay!”
The gambler shook out his shoulders.
“Then… st—”
Tap.
“…?”
A soft touch on his cheek.
“Wow! One tael of silver!”
Kang Yu jumped up in delight.
The gambler froze.
He had been standing five full paces away—how had the kid crossed that distance in an instant?
He hadn’t seen a thing.
“Please give me the silver tael.”
“…”
The gambler stared at the boy’s outstretched hand, then squeezed his eyes shut.
He must have dozed off from exhaustion—yes, that was it.
He’d been up all night at the brothel; that woman hadn’t let him sleep.
Having found his excuse, he stretched his neck and forced a smile.
“Tell you what, kid. How about we go again? I’ll count your first win, and if you touch me again, you’ll earn five taels total. Deal?”
“Hmm.”
Kang Yu scratched his cheek.
Five taels was enough to feed a family for a month.
But he hesitated—surely the master had let him win earlier.
“No, thank you. Just the one tael, please.”
“…What?”
“Just the one.”
The gambler’s jaw clenched. He wanted to curse but the crowd was watching.
“Hurry up, please.”
That “please” nearly made him explode.
He forced a grin. “Then… how about ten times the bet? Touch me and you’ll get ten taels!”
“No, thank you.”
This little…!
He swallowed his temper again.
“Twenty times! If you win again, twenty taels are yours!”
“Hmm…”
Kang Yu studied his face.
Despite losing, the man still smiled kindly.
Then it hit him.
Ah! He must be trying to give me pocket money since it’s my first time in the city!
After all, the man kept glancing at his travel pack.
The elders had said—
“When an elder offers you something, refusing is rude. You must accept it gratefully.”
Understanding the master’s true generosity, Kang Yu bowed deeply.
“Yes. I’ll do it.”
The gambler grinned. “Good. Same rules as before?”
“Yes!”
He braced himself.
“St—”
Tap.
“…”
The gambler’s eyes bulged.
“Wh–what are you? A ghost?”
Kang Yu blushed.
How humble of the master—to pretend surprise just to make him feel good!
Even the onlookers murmured in awe.
“What was that? Did you see him move?”
“I didn’t even blink, and it was over.”
Kang Yu turned redder.
Oh, stop it. You’re all much faster than me.
He bowed again.
“Thank you very much. I’ll use it wisely.”
He packed up and left, and the crowd respectfully parted to let him through.
But the generosity of the city’s masters did not end there.
Soon, every gambling table in Jilin was calling him over.
“Guess which cup hides the red ball—win triple your bet!”
“Left!”
“Ha! Sharp eyes, friend! Let’s go again!”
“Right!”
“Wow, you’re good! Can you get it again?”
“Middle!”
“Ha ha… ha.”
“It’s in your sleeve.”
“…”
“In your right pocket!”
“You threw it behind your back!”
“There was never a ball at all!”
“Yay! Forty taels of silver!”
Everywhere he went, his money grew.
He had only meant to watch, but somehow everyone insisted he join—and every “master” gave him more “pocket money.”
The great ones of the city truly have vast hearts, he thought.
Meanwhile, in a dark alley nearby—
“That’s him?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Yes.”
Men gathered behind Myeon Jeong-hyeok, one of Jilin’s most powerful figures—the deputy head of the Myeon clan.
They were the best gamblers in the city—dice men, card sharps, con artists—all of whom had lost their entire bankrolls to a single boy.
“How much did that brat take from you?”
“A–around seven hundred taels, sir…”
“You idiots! You lost that much to a child?!”
The gamblers shrank back.
“S–sorry, sir. He looked so naive, we let our guard down…”
Myeon Jeong-hyeok scowled.
As a martial artist and noble of the Myeon clan, he was leagues above these street rats.
He clicked his tongue and leapt into the air.
Moments later, he landed before Kang Yu, who was wandering through the alley.
“Who are you?”
“Eh?”
“Whose dog are you? Which gang sent you to mess around in Myeon territory?”
“Myeon… territory? Where’s that?”
“Answer me, boy! Who’s backing you?”
The air quivered with his killing intent.
He was no ordinary fighter.
But Kang Yu just blinked and replied,
“Well, if you want to call it a group… I guess I’m from Jangbaek Valley?”
“Jangbaek… what?”
Myeon Jeong-hyeok frowned.
He’d never heard of it.
Even better—no one would come to avenge this kid.
He’d make an example of him and reclaim his lost silver.
He drew his sword, its edge glowing faintly blue with qi.
“I’ll take both your hands. That’s the price for disturbing Myeon territory.”
The sword hummed with killing energy.
Yet Kang Yu didn’t flinch.
Instead, he recalled another lesson from home.
“Yu.”
“Yes, Grandpa?”
“Do you know what the weakest thing in the world is?”
The villagers had answered together:
“The weakest thing in the world is a martial artist.”
“A martial artist?”
“Yes. They draw their swords every time something doesn’t go their way—no better than spoiled children throwing tantrums.”
The scholar had added:
“To win a hundred battles is not true excellence.
True excellence is to conquer without fighting.
Thus said the great strategist Sun Tzu.
Martial artists, who draw blades at the slightest displeasure, are indeed the weakest of all.”
“So martial artists are the weakest people in the world.”
“Not just weak—foolish, immature, and sometimes even vile.”
So Kang Yu asked politely,
“Excuse me… are you a martial artist by any chance?”
“What?”
“I was just wondering if you are one.”
The question was so absurd that Myeon Jeong-hyeok laughed.
“A martial artist? Of course I am! You couldn’t even dream of reaching my level!”
“Ah, I see.”
Kang Yu looked at him calmly.
Just as the villagers had said—
unlike the countless masters hiding their power in the city, this man’s energy was painfully obvious.
He radiated weakness.
As expected, the weakest being in the world was indeed a martial artist.
