Chapter 89
Chapter 89
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 89
Chapter Title: Main Enemy (1)
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In the era of great turmoil, the masters and sects that dominated the dynamic flow of the battlefield each had their main enemies, as if the will of the world had distributed and assigned them accordingly.
Those fateful rivalries were forged by karma, grudges, positions, interests, ideologies, or any and all reasons we could conceive.
The most representative example was the Righteous Flying Dragon Society and the Divine Demon Alliance.
Their bad blood predated the Righteous Flying Dragon Society raising its banner, and they had been locked in conflict for ages—and still were.
The Waterway Alliance and Non-Sword Alliance were the same. So were the Phantom God and Black Forest.
…excerpt…
Young Martial Glory's Heaven-Shattering Peng Ghost Golden Phantom.
Scarlet Comparison Black Saint Sun-Worshipping Divine Transformation.
And Heaven-Subduer.
Everyone had their archenemies.
A world of chaos meant a world without absolute rules.
Main enemies were not always fixed; they shifted, drawing closer or drifting apart with the tides of the era. They clashed unto ruin, or forged fragile peaces.
There were eternal nemeses and fleeting foes.
They warred against each other for the most part, allied against others on occasion.
…excerpt…
Countless conflicts raged.
Entangled beyond measure, it was often impossible to pinpoint a single main enemy.
In the end, most converged into one.
The Hebei Peng Clan and Revered Martial Alliance were no different.
The clash of factions, the grudges of individuals—they all led to final reckonings.
And at the center stood the Heaven-Subduer's Ten Benefactors, the Immortal Blood Emperor.
*Incomplete Hanbaek Murim Chronicles*
*From the History of Chaos in the Martial World*
Peng Bi's refusal caught even Cheon Wi off guard.
"Both have exceptional talent."
"Talent? Sure. That's why their names are on this list."
Peng Bi tapped his temple with a finger in response.
"You even remember them."
"I do."
"You know their names, so may I ask why?"
"The Espionage Division Chief."
"The chief said so?"
"The Espionage Division Chief rubs me the wrong way. Makes me not want to teach them."
It was a loaded statement.
This time, Cheon Wi narrowed his brows.
"Then what about Danmun? This one too..."
"I know that name."
Peng Bi cut Cheon Wi off without hesitation.
Cheon Wi fell silent and waited.
"I can't handle him. Geumseong as Treasury Chief? The clan head's the same. Won't teach, not even for the clan head."
Peng Bi meant every word.
It was purely personal distaste, made plain.
He must have history with those mentioned. That explained wanting out of the Espionage Division.
Cheon Wi pressed no further. Not today, at least.
Words wouldn't sway Peng Bi anyway.
He had known it instinctively from the first glance.
Voices work on the mind and heart.
By the three dantian division, that meant the upper and middle dantian.
Peng Bi's inner energy was unfathomably deep.
The barriers around his upper and middle dantian were ironclad. No crack for a voice to slip through.
A different tack was needed. If the refusal stemmed from past dealings with the Peng Clan's key figures, unearthing those could be the key. Opportunities abounded.
"Then how do you get by here?"
"As you see. Comfortably."
His weathered skin and simple garb told the tale.
A fisherman, through and through. He blended in like he'd been born to the waves.
"One more thing, if I may. You held back the Haewu Gang at the Three Small Pavilions. May we proceed with the operation?"
This was the real crux.
Peng Bi was blood kin, an elder. If he said stop, they stopped. Blood or not, crossing him was folly. He wielded fearsome martial prowess. Comfortable life or no, he never skipped a day's training.
He rivaled—or surpassed—the Four Heroes.
At Cheon Wi's level, judging such experts was no simple task, but instinct placed him among the strongest he'd faced.
Peng Bi heard the question and paused in silence.
At length, he replied with one of his own.
"...You're planning to wipe out the Haewu Gang?"
"The orders were to that effect, but..."
"And?"
"If you object, we'll find another way."
Peng Bi peered into Cheon Wi's eyes once more. Amusement flickered across his face now.
"Remarkable. Just remembered whose son you are. That evil flower's boy. Mind so different from hers. Clung to life like a weed, and now you see things like this."
Cheon Wi's pupils wavered for the first time.
Shaken eyes betrayed a shaken heart.
Cheon Wi swallowed the question that nearly escaped on reflex.
Evil Flower.
No flattering moniker.
No one had ever properly spoken to Cheon Wi of his mother. She lingered as an affectionate haze, a warm yet sinister dream.
Perhaps he'd finally met someone willing to speak truth.
*It doesn't matter.*
There had been a time in boyhood when questions of his mother consumed him.
No longer.
Cheon Wi swiftly regained his poise.
"Then the Haewu Gang—leave them be?"
"Handle it yourself."
"Handle it how?"
"Songgang Branch's dirtiest spot is Haewu Harbor. Every scum of the sea washes up there. Pirates, smugglers—they all hole up in Haewu Harbor. Crush the Haewu Gang, and another springs up. That's the place. If the new ones get too rowdy, smack some manners into them, but it's a hassle. Leave them be. At least Hwangjo listens after a beating."
It clicked now.
Peng Bi hadn't gone to the Three Small Pavilions to quell the Three Evil Factions' racket.
He'd gone to save their skins.
The Chae Clan were central nobility. With official troops, influence, or coin for hired blades, they could eradicate outfits like the Three Evil Factions overnight.
Would peace dawn on Songgang Branch the next day?
Hardly.
Blood would soak the back alleys from then on.
Unclaimed wealth goes to the grabbiest hands. Who knew what monsters would join the fray? High or low in martial skill hardly mattered. It was temperament that counted. The suffering fell to the common folk.
That was why self-perpetuating underworld groups were a necessary evil. Better a moderate thug holding the reins than chaos.
Peng Bi hadn't been the Three Evil Factions' shadow boss. He'd played balancer for all Songgang, prioritizing the people.
"We'll manage it without leaving a vacuum."
Cheon Wi grasped Peng Bi's words perfectly.
Haewu Gang gone meant installing a proxy. Slot anyone in to control Haewu Harbor. None available? Peng Clan could handle it direct. Point was: nothing to bother Peng Bi.
"Now you'll start digging into me. Reward for playing smart—I'll save you the legwork. Black stone-wall house on the Shanghai Harbor beach ahead. Easy enough to find, but don't come calling unless you must. Tending my late lover's mother. She's past eighty. No hidden master—just a fading old woman with cloudy eyes. No need sniffing out her identity. Telling you now: don't ruin the peace I've scraped together."
"I'll keep it in mind."
"Off with you."
"Yes. Until next time."
Cheon Wi offered a deep fist salute and bow.
Peng Bi neither returned it nor bothered. Waved him off and ambled down the beach path.
Cheon Wi pondered as he headed home.
Oho and Danmun needed a true master's guidance. Potions alone wouldn't spark real breakthroughs. He'd sensed it keenly—then crossed paths with Peng Bi.
Fortunate timing.
So he'd thought at first.
But was it fortune?
Why Songgang?
They'd all wondered.
He recalled the Espionage Division Chief Peng Bi despised.
Peng Wol, darling of ghostly schemes. No way she overlooked Peng Bi. A master of his caliber, ex-Espionage Division handling every secret under heaven—she'd track him anywhere.
Yet she'd dumped Oho and Unnamed Blade three thousand li from home base. Right in Songgang, with Peng Bi.
Not luck.
Design.
He had to convince Peng Bi. Secure apprenticeship in his arts. It was that or death for Cheon Wi.
Only path out of his corpse-like state.
Cheon Wi quickened his pace.
Night was falling.
* * *
"Sell at this price."
"Not even close. No—never meant to sell at all."
Cheon Wi had donned fine silk for a rare change.
His pale features already screamed refinement. He embodied the young magnate to perfection.
The venue was the manor itself. Its guest hall dripped luxury. Cheon Wi fit right in, no hint of discord.
Cheon Wi murmured once more, low.
"Director. At least hear the offer."
Manor lord Chae Jeong headed the Nanjing Judicial Experience Office.
Mid-tier rank in the capital alone. But born to Nanjing nobility, with a hands-on post, he commanded real clout in his domain. Nation-spanning, his status loomed large.
"Look here—whoever you are..."
"Look at this."
Cheon Wi interrupted, unfurling the silk scroll.
His attendants gasped behind him.
Chae Jeong had two junior aides and two guards at his back—four in all.
Chae Jeong was haughty, not one to brook interjections mid-sentence. Cheon Wi braced for rebuke.
But no ire came. Chae Jeong simply lowered his gaze to the scroll. Astonishing. Even his men craned necks to peer past his shoulder at the table.
"Our assessment."
The scroll's mounting was exquisite, its backing paper top-shelf. The brushwork within was calligraphy worthy of masters. It itemized the manor's structures and grounds by acreage.
"You'll see it's a fair sum."
Cheon Wi urged the math, both arms dutifully in place.
One couldn't pitch a manor sale to a fifth-rank Ministry of Justice regional property inspector langzhong as a one-armed freak. He'd reattached it pro tem. Silk finery or no, a lone arm screamed jianghu rat. Officials of his stripe despised them on principle.