TSBIRBV Ch 308

Chapter 308. Rumors of the Rivers and Lakes (12)

“Do you know who won this year’s Dragon and Phoenix Tournament?”

“I’ve heard bits and pieces. That Je—Je something? Anyway, I heard he wiped the floor with those pompous heirs of the Five Great Clans?”

“You mean the Heavenly Thunder Dragon! The Heavenly Thunder Dragon!”

The man slapping the table in frustration made the chopsticks and cups on it rattle energetically.

“They say he inherited the martial arts of the Thunder Spirit Fist Master, the peerless grandmaster from three hundred years ago!”

“Haah… if only I could stumble upon such a fortuitous encounter, I’d die without regrets.”

It’s the dream shared by every soul in the martial world—to live an ordinary life, only to discover some lost, peerless martial art in a cliff cave or a mountain ruin.

It’s the martial artist’s version of the scholar’s dream to place first in the imperial exams, or a commoner’s fantasy of finding gold on the roadside.

“I heard even the elite disciples of the Nine Great Sects couldn’t lift their heads in front of him!”

One of the listeners snickered. His tone carried a trace of petty delight.

That a nameless man, with no known sect or lineage, had broken through the tournament and seized victory—it was nothing short of astonishing.

“Apparently, on his way to the tournament, the young hero captured a demonic cultivator who tried to devour an entire village!”

A man across from him shook his head.

“No, no. It wasn’t a village—it was a city. The city of Changsha in Hunan Province.”

“What? Changsha?”

“My sister’s husband travels for trade, and he said some demonic expert poisoned the city well. Everyone would’ve died if Je Haryang hadn’t stopped him!”

In truth, Yegyeol had never even passed near Changsha while traveling down the Yangtze River—let alone fought any demonic expert there.

But the man’s confident tone, the use of real names and places, made the false story sound uncannily believable.

“What about the time he captured the Green Forest Bandit Chief? They say the look on that man’s face when handed over to the constables was priceless! Hah!”

“Ha! Those demonic bastards must be trembling now. I heard he wiped out the whole Green Forest branch and personally beheaded the chief!”

“That’s not even all! They say the Heavenly Thunder Dragon also rescued kidnapped villagers along the Yangtze!”

Someone listening nearby murmured in disbelief.

“All that? By one man? He’d need a hundred bodies to do all that!”

Rumors are always exaggerated, but even so, this one sounded absurd—

as if the man could appear in the east one moment and the west the next.

How could someone accomplish so much and only now gain fame after winning the tournament?

“A true hero, that’s what he is—a real champion of justice!”

One man clicked his tongue in awe and downed his drink in a single gulp.

It was a refreshing tale to hear in these stifling times—

the kind that made the wine taste sweeter.

“No! You fools!”

Suddenly, a toothless old man with sunken cheeks cut in, waving his cane.

“The one who poisoned Changsha wasn’t some nameless fiend—it was Sima Ryeon’s Five Poison Mad Dog! That happened over twenty years ago, and the bastard died then! And yes, Je Haryang caught him—but that Je Haryang was the hero of the Kunlun Sect!”

He clicked his tongue and jabbed his cane toward them.

“Stupid brats, still wet behind the ears! How can you not know the Kunlun Cloud Dragon! Tch, tch!”

He shook his head, muttering curses.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, sir—please, Father, come inside!”

A middle-aged woman rushed out from the kitchen and tried to pull the old man away.

But he was strong despite his age, his voice booming across the tavern.

“Let go, woman! These fools don’t even know who their benefactor was! In all of Hunan, there wasn’t a soul who didn’t know Je Haryang!”

Sweating profusely, the woman finally managed to drag him off. The innkeeper reappeared with two bottles of wine, bowing apologetically.

“I’m so sorry. My father’s old and his mind’s not what it used to be. He often confuses things that happened decades ago with things from today. Here—this is bamboo leaf wine. Please, have some on the house.”

The men, who’d been loudly swapping stories, eagerly accepted the drink.

“Oh, you didn’t have to… Wait—did you say there was another Je Haryang, a tournament winner, twenty years ago?”

“Yes, indeed,” the innkeeper replied smoothly. “My father’s from Hunan, lived there all his life. He used to tell everyone about that young Kunlun hero who once saved his town. Said we should never forget a debt of life, even when his memory started to fade.”

“Well, I pride myself on keeping up with martial world news, but to think there was another Je Haryang back then—how fascinating.”

“Je Haryang… the Kunlun Je Haryang…”

And scenes like this one were unfolding all across Wuhuan.

“Classic noise marketing,” Yegyeol murmured upstairs, watching the group below from the tavern’s second floor.

Across from him, Samrang rolled her eyes. Lord Mun had a habit of saying strange things.

“So? Does it look convincing even to a professional?”

“Yes,” she replied after a pause. “Even though rumors travel fast in the martial world… at this rate, all of Jianghu will be buzzing before half a month’s over.”

She gave a small, reluctant nod, studying Yegyeol’s face with renewed curiosity.

After all, the mastermind behind this tangled web of rumors was none other than him.

“Is that… fast?”

“Extremely.”

There might not be social media in the martial world, but Jianghu had its own advantages.

Once a rumor spread and solidified into common belief, it was nearly impossible to correct.

To uncover the truth, one had to move, travel, and find the right people.

“Good. Then it’s working.”

Yegyeol nodded in satisfaction.

When she’d first heard his plan, Samrang had thought it insane—completely irrational.

But somehow, impossibly, it was working.

Even after lending a hand in setting things up, she still found herself amazed watching it unfold.

“I thought you just used the name Je Haryang as a symbolic alias…”

Samrang rubbed the back of her neck.

The day after her lord had revealed the Black Ghost’s identity to Yegyeol, he’d come to her with this proposal—

to merge the deeds of this tournament’s Je Haryang with those of the previous Je Haryang from decades ago, and spread the resulting rumor.

The plan had chilled her.

It wasn’t something a bored man came up with—it was a calculated, intricate act of storytelling.

Written and directed by Yegyeol.

Co-directed by Samrang.

The cast? Peddlers, the Hao Clan, the Beggar’s Sect, and spies of the Demonic Cult.

To spread the rumor, Yegyeol dispatched pairs of agents—two by two.

Each pair included one spy from the Demonic Cult. Only the spy knew they were truly working in tandem.

The performance began when the “peddler” opened his mouth—

a man hired through the Beggar’s Sect or the Hao Clan, posing as a gossipy drunk or a social butterfly with too many friends.

They followed a script: spreading tales of the newly risen prodigy, the Heavenly Thunder Dragon, Je Haryang—

a saintly hero who saved lives and mastered the greatest martial art in history.

But Yegyeol didn’t intend for it to remain just idle tavern gossip.

He took it a step further—

ordering the Demonic spies to either refute or embellish the tales.

“Je Haryang did all those things!”

“No, no—he’s not even half as great as the old Je Haryang!”

And each chosen stage for these debates was carefully selected—

there always had to be at least one witness present who still remembered the Kunlun Cloud Dragon of old.

Because a play isn’t complete without an audience.

The location was everything.

“Impressive that you found the perfect spots for all this,” Samrang admitted.

“I had help,” Yegyeol said lightly. “A capable and well-connected friend. Thanks to them, everything went smoothly.”

Samrang clicked her tongue inwardly.

So this is why the Lord chose him…

“I had a plan all along,” Yegyeol continued, utterly shameless.

He even sounded proud.

“That whole thing about spreading the name ‘Heavenly Thunder Dragon’ earlier—it was a test run. A simulation. I wanted to see how fast a rumor spreads, how many people I’d need, what kind of fuel it required…”

Samrang stared at him with deadpan eyes as he excitedly rambled on.

Her earlier admiration began to fade into mild despair.

“Yes, yes,” she replied dryly.

“Jianghu will be in chaos soon,” she added, resigned.

“That’s the point,” Yegyeol said brightly. “Why else ride the wave of the Dragon and Phoenix Tournament?”

The entire scheme hinged on the new prodigy, “Je Haryang,” and his tournament victory.

And of course, no one in their right mind would ever suspect that the Heavenly Thunder Dragon himself had started the rumor.

To take credit for someone else’s deeds would be self-defeating—like spitting in your own face.

“You told the Hao Clan to say it was all my doing, right?”

“Yes.”

Samrang nodded dutifully.

The Hao Clan would sell any information for the right price—but their reliability was famously questionable. The easier a secret was to buy, the less truth it carried.

So Yegyeol had ordered them to loudly proclaim the greatness of the Heavenly Thunder Dragon, the new hero of Murim.

Of course, they didn’t do it for free.

But Yegyeol had the Black Ghost behind him.

Good thing the Black Spot’s connections to the Hao Clan still exist, he thought.

Both groups dealt in the underworld. They understood each other’s ways.

Meanwhile, the Beggar’s Sect had been given a different task.

“I told them to separate the real Je Haryang’s deeds from the false ones,” Yegyeol explained.

He scattered false rumors like kindling—

and the people who remembered the true Je Haryang of old would add the oil.

Then, through credible channels, he’d feed the real story.

If they want the truth, they’ll have to dig deep to find it.

“What a glorious mess,” Samrang sighed.

Yegyeol grinned, looking positively delighted.

The sheer audacity of it all seemed to thrill him.

Samrang, half in awe and half horrified, could only shake her head.

I should’ve known when he struck lightning on the Green Forest Bandits, she thought.

At least, she reassured herself, they were on the same side.

“Chaos is fun,” Yegyeol said cheerfully.

And finally, even Samrang couldn’t help but smile.

“Well then,” she said, matching his grin, “let’s make sure all of Jianghu loses its mind.”