The Outcast Writer of a Martial Arts Visual Novel

“I write Colorful Chivalry.”

It’s not exactly erotica. But after arriving in this world, I realized that martial arts novels weren’t all that popular. So, I mixed in romantic and sexual tension between men and women to boost mainstream appeal.

How am I supposed to explain that?

I mean, sure, I like erotica, I like smut, I like Colorful Chivalry. But admitting that I write it is a whole other matter.

Even if erotica is relatively accepted here, the writers themselves don’t exactly hold their heads high.

My pen name is Ho-pil—Barbarian Brush. Readers don’t mock it or find it weird because erotic novelists often use strange or comical pen names anyway.

A poor scholar, forced by financial need, writes erotica under a pseudonym and never reveals their identity—that’s a pretty common story in this world. Thanks to that tradition, I could write under Ho-pil and maintain a double life as the manager of Daseogak.

Still, the Tang Clan folks really have loose lips, don’t they? I only revealed I was Ho-pil out of necessity, but now they’re out here telling others? Just because I owe them my life doesn’t mean they have to spill my personal details.

“I write stories about the martial world,” I said, giving a roundabout answer to Cheong-un’s question.

“Stories about the martial world? Are they based on actual events from the past?”

“No. They’re stories of wandering heroes.”

“Wandering heroes?”

What’s with him? Cheong-un suddenly got up from the bed and looked at me with wide eyes.

“Yes. The protagonist is a hero from a righteous sect.”

“Is it... one of the Nine Sects? For example, is the protagonist from the Wudang Sect?”

He looked at me with a gleam of expectation in his eyes.

“No. The protagonist is from the Sichuan Tang Clan.”

“Ah... The Sichuan Tang Clan, I see.”

His face immediately fell as he sat back down. He must’ve thought the story was about his own sect.

Well, yeah. When it comes to wandering heroes in martial arts fiction, Wudang’s always been the classic. From the Seven Heroes of Wudang, to the Demon-Slaying Sword of Wudang, to Tale of Chivalry and Tempest starring Yun-hyeon. There’s a ton.

“May I ask your pen name?”

Cheong-un asked, trying to hide his disappointment. I hesitated. I didn’t really want to tell him—but he did save my life. I couldn’t lie to him.

“I go by Ho-pil. I’ve gained a modest reputation in Yichang.”

I’m not exactly the erotic fiction king of the genre, but I’ve made a name for myself. I tacked on that clarification casually.

“Ah... I see.”

You’ve never heard of me, have you?

Cheong-un made the face of someone who’d just heard a detective’s name with great fanfare only to realize they’d never once heard of him.

Can’t blame him. Even though we’re both in Hubei Province, Mount Wudang and Yichang are as far apart as Seoul and Busan.

“Ha ha. I must sound like I’m bragging about a name you’ve never heard. How embarrassing.”

Lucky for me, he didn’t know what kind of books I write. I wasn’t embarrassed at all, but I put on a modest act.

“Not at all. I’ve heard your books are popular in Yichang, and you should be proud. Stories about the martial world rarely gain attention—they usually end up shoved into the farthest corners of bookstores, and it always breaks my heart. You’ve accomplished something truly amazing.”

“Ha ha. Yeah, martial stories aren’t exactly trendy.”

A bitter memory of failure crossed my mind.

“Yes. And yet the more you reflect on them, the more you realize how worthy they are of reading. Even disciples often skip the meaningful books and secretly read the popular stuff instead.”

So even young Daoists read smut, huh. These little monk bastards.

“Ha ha. They’re still young. Youthful blood can’t always be reined in.”

“Shameful, really...”

Cheong-un hung his head, as if guilty for speaking ill of his fellow sect members.

“So, you’re someone who still enjoys stories about the martial world.”

A martial arts fiction lover? I asked with a pleasantly surprised look.

“If one walks the martial path, they ought to understand the ideals of chivalry. While one can gain wisdom from scriptures and ancient texts, stories offer both joy and insight. How could I not read them? I only wish my fellow disciples would see the same value. But whenever I recommend good books on chivalry, they just toss them aside.”

“Ha ha. They’ll get bored of the other stuff eventually. Maybe then they’ll give books like the ones you read a chance. You, at least, know the charm of those stories.”

I mean, even hormonally charged kids don’t only read erotica every day.

“I don’t read anything that interferes with my training.”

Cheong-un shook his head firmly.

Oho... a proper Daoist who avoids all things impure? A hero who not only follows the path of chivalry but also shuns lust? This guy’s practically ripped from a real wuxia novel, not a visual novel.

“I fear I may have said something rude, Daoist.”

I apologized for my unintended disrespect.

“Not at all. Still... a novel about chivalry, huh. Judging from the Tang Clan’s reactions, it must be a very entertaining one. I’ve read many novels, but I’ve never heard of one becoming that popular.”

Cheong-un spoke like a hardcore traditional fantasy fan who just learned that some random isekai smut hit #1 on the charts.

“I was lucky to possess a small talent and move a few hearts. And—it’s not just one volume.”

I replied with a proud expression.

“Excuse me?”

“The first volume was well received, and I was fortunate enough to publish a second. It’s also been very successful.”

“Ah... Not just one, but two volumes...”

Cheong-un let out a sigh, his expression turning strangely regretful, as if mourning something personal.

“Is something bothering you?”

“I was... momentarily lost in thought. So then, with everything going on with your friend, I suppose your writing is on hold for now?”

“Yes. But once my friend’s situation is resolved, I fully intend to publish Volume 3.”

No matter how the Tang Clan mess turns out, Storm of the Tang Clan Volume 3 will be published.

“To be thinking about the next volume even in the midst of this... You have a deep sense of responsibility.”

“Ha ha! If you publish a book, you have to take responsibility for it.”

“Indeed. If a writer starts a story, they should see it through to the end. Writing one volume and abandoning it—that’s just irresponsible.”

Cheong-un’s face suddenly darkened. Why’s he acting like that?

“Right. Ha ha...”

“Yes, truly. A writer should know their duty. But no. They just disappear. No contact, no updates. Didn’t even leave an address. Didn’t even use a proper pen name.”

Cheong-un muttered in a cold, bitter voice, without taking a single breath.

“Uh... Hero?”

What the hell? Why the sudden rage?

“Ah...! I’m sorry. I showed an unbecoming side of myself...”

Cheong-un snapped out of it and bowed with an embarrassed expression.

“Ha ha. Sounds like you’ve been burned a few times. I get it.”

Did I just trigger a trauma? Anyone else might’ve been startled, but I understood completely.

“You do?”

Cheong-un looked surprised at my response.

“Yes. Before being a writer, I’m also a reader. I’ve had those moments too—wanting to lock a good writer in a closet, feed them only dumplings, and make them write nonstop.”

He must really love books. I get it now. That sudden outburst wasn’t on purpose.

Trying to ease the now-heavy mood, I tossed out a light joke.

“That wouldn’t be enough.”

But I guess he didn’t take it as a joke.

“...What?”

“The sin of stirring a reader’s heart and then disappearing is far too great. They must be locked in a training cave, given a single energy pill per chapter. Only once a volume is complete should they be fed a proper meal.”

Cheong-un fidgeted with his fingers, like he was visualizing exactly how he’d imprison a hiatus-abusing author.

“Ha ha ha...”

All I could do was laugh awkwardly.

Whoever that poor author was... if Cheong-un ever finds them, they’re not living long.

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

It feels a little awkward now. Cheong-un, seemingly embarrassed by his earlier outburst, fell silent after that.

“I honestly used to think that chivalrous heroes were nothing more than a dream. But after receiving a life-saving favor from a true hero like you, hero Cheong-un, it truly feels like I’m dreaming.”

To ease the mood again, I complimented him once more.

“You’re too kind. Anyone in that situation would have done the same.”

“Too kind? I’ve been in the Central Plains for quite a while, and I’ve yet to see another hero like you, even after scouring the place. That’s why someone like me, who couldn’t find the hero I dreamed of, had no choice but to pick up a brush instead.”

I’d heard he’d gone up the mountain searching for the missing. If he weren’t a chivalrous hero, he’d have had no reason to be there in the first place. No amount of praise felt like enough.

“I too came into the Jianghu to pursue my dream of becoming a hero.”

Cheong-un straightened his posture, speaking earnestly.

“That couldn’t have been an easy decision. Truly admirable.”

“I’m not the only one who made such a choice. Didn’t you also choose to write about heroes instead of penning shallow popular novels? We both dreamed of chivalry—one took up the sword, the other the brush. You flatter me too much.”

What a beautiful way to put it. No way I can say, “Well actually, I write Colorful Chivalry smut,” not in this mood.

“You’re making me feel embarrassed now. Then... may I ask what kind of heroic deeds you’ve undertaken?”

“I haven’t been in the Jianghu long, so there’s not much to speak of.”

He didn’t say he didn’t want to talk. Just that he didn’t have much to say.

Cheong-un glanced at me now and then, lips twitching like he wanted to speak. You do want to talk, don’t you? Come on, heroic deeds are meant to be shared.

“I really would like to hear it. It might even inspire me in my writing. If you wouldn’t mind, please—go ahead.”

“I’m not the best ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ storyteller...”

“Whatever you say, I’ll listen quietly.”

I sat upright to show I was all ears. Cheong-un let out a soft sigh, then his eyes sparkled.

Little tales of heroism that began on Mount Wudang. At first, Cheong-un spoke shyly, but soon, his words and expression grew livelier.

----------

“I must’ve kept you too long.”

Maybe he noticed my eyelids getting heavy—Cheong-un spoke with a hint of regret.

“Not at all. I wish I could hear more... I’m just lamenting my own lack of stamina.”

“You should get some sleep now.”

“Yes. I’m sure I’ll have more chances to hear your stories. Just knowing that someone like you, a hero I’ve always dreamed of, exists somewhere in the Central Plains... that thought alone will help me sleep soundly tonight.”

I smiled at him like someone who had finally found their star, then began arranging my bedding.

“......”

“Hero?”

Why is he spacing out? Just before I laid down, I noticed Cheong-un staring blankly in my direction.

“A-ah! It’s nothing!”

Startled by my voice, Cheong-un suddenly darted toward the door.

“Hero, where are you going?”

“Please sleep first. I’m just going to patrol the area a little before bed.”

What’s going on now?

I wasn’t the type to insist on joining someone who volunteered for the night watch, so I let it go and quietly lay down, though I had my suspicions.

**********

Cheong-un stepped outside the inn to get some air. The cold breeze brushed against his flushed cheeks.

“Hey, come on, let me take it!”

“I said no!”

As he walked around, he spotted a few Tang Clan warriors burning some rubbish.

“What’s going on here?”

“Oh! Hero Cheong-un! It’s nothing serious. One of our fallen comrades really cherished this book, but this guy here wants to burn it!”

“Can you really call this a keepsake? Let’s just toss it in the fire already.”

“Why would you burn a book signed by Ho-pil?”

“I mean, yeah, it’s a shame, but we have to lighten our load, don’t we?”

The name that came up in their squabble was the very same pen name he’d just heard earlier—Ho-pil.

“Did you say Ho-pil? You mean Young Master Kang’s book?”

“Ah! If you haven’t read it before, would you like to take it with you, hero?”

“Yes. I’ll take it.”

“I’m sure our fallen comrade would’ve been happy knowing you have it.”

The Pavilion guard, unable to bring himself to burn it, quickly handed the book over to Cheong-un.

A popular book in Yichang. Written by Young Master Kang. About chivalrous heroes. Just what kind of book could it be?

Cheong-un stared intently at the cover of the book he had just received, then began to read the letters written on it aloud.

“Ho-pil. Tang Clan... Storm?”