Untying the Knot
Three disciples of the Anhui Mo Clan were sitting inside the tavern—all of them except Mo Seok-heon and the fellow who had scrutinized Yun so intently earlier.
Even as they watched Namgung Yun stroll through the shattered entrance, they showed not the slightest hint of alarm. On the contrary, they pointed in his direction and snickered openly.
“Those worthless bastards…”
Following close behind Yun, Namgung Geol ground his teeth. His hand twitched restlessly against the hilt of his sword, itching to teach them proper manners on the spot. Still, one could not simply draw steel without grasping the full picture. Just as Geol thought he ought to probe the situation first, heavy footsteps sounded.
Thud. Thud.
Namgung Yun was already marching straight toward the Mo Clan scoundrels.
Every eye in the tavern converged upon him—a mixture of anxiety, breath-held dread, and a faint glimmer of hope.
Yun halted right beside their table. The Mo scions squinted up at him, their expressions dripping with unmistakable contempt.
“Got business with—”
Crack!
The sentence never reached its end. Yun’s fist drove straight through the center of the speaker’s face. Watching the man fly backward and crash to the floorboards, Yun mused idly to himself.
What was this fellow’s name again?
Being an Anhui Mo disciple, it was bound to be Mo-something, but nothing beyond that came to mind.
Whatever. It doesn’t matter.
Startled out of their wits, the other two scrambled to their feet. Yet Yun’s knuckles were already faster.
Thwack!
A second Mo disciple collapsed into a heap. He had attempted to block the strike, but against Yun’s fist—weaving through the air like a striking viper—the youth’s defensive reflex amounted to nothing more than a pointless spasm.
Only one remained.
“Y-You! You think you’ll walk away unscathed after doing this to us—!”
Smash!
A fist planted squarely between his eyes cut him off mid-shout. The last disciple tumbled to the floorboards like a marionette with severed strings.
Silence settled over the establishment.
The tavern servers, the patrons, and even Namgung Geol and Namgung Yeon could only gawk in dumbfounded astonishment, their gazes darting between Yun and the three crumpled bodies.
A heartbeat later, breathless cheers erupted from every corner.
“Whoa!”
“As expected of the Little Chivalrous Hero!”
“Blew them away in an instant!”
Ignoring the commotion, Namgung Yun patted down the unconscious trio and rummaged through their robes.
Here we are.
He tossed three coin pouches onto the table, untied the cords, and picked out a hefty silver ingot before placing the pouches back down.
“This will cover their food and wine, the broken door, and treatment for the injured waiter. It should be more than enough.”
“A-Ah, yes, young master!” an attendant standing nearby stammered.
“Are these fellows staying here?”
“Yes, they are!”
Yun shoved the coin pouches back into the disciples’ coats and delivered a firm kick to each. Rolling across the floor like discarded sacks of grain, the three ended up piled unceremoniously in an empty corner of the hall.
Having cleared the nuisance, Yun pulled out a chair from the table they had occupied and sat down.
“Scoundrels were gorging on the finest spread, I see.”
Reaching into his own robe, he produced a personal money pouch and tossed it directly to the waiter.
“A rather loud ruckus might break out here shortly. Clear out all the patrons and take your staff outside as well. That is compensation for the lost business. And though unlikely, if anything else gets smashed, use it for repairs.”
“Understood at once!”
The waiter scrambled into motion. Having hung on Yun’s every word, the other employees and patrons moved just as swiftly. Though watching the insolent Mo disciples get pummeled had been immensely satisfying, none of them had any desire to be caught in the crossfire of martial artists. Still, the looks they cast toward Yun were filled with overt goodwill and deep trust.
“If you wouldn't mind, please help yourself to these.”
The head attendant returned with several trays alongside his fellow servers. After clearing away the half-eaten mess left by the Mo disciples, they set down fresh dishes before Yun.
“These were orders prepared for other tables. Since you will likely be waiting here for some time, we thought you might appreciate some refreshments.”
“Much obliged. I'll enjoy them.”
Once the servers bustled out through the shattered entrance, only the three Namgung youths and the unconscious Mo disciples remained inside the tavern.
“Hyung-nim, was that really wise?” Namgung Geol blurted out the moment the room cleared of outside eyes. Beside him, Namgung Yeon wore an equally troubled expression.
Yet Yun remained completely undisturbed.
“Was what wise?”
“No matter how detestable those Mo bastards are, aren't they technically guests of the Namgung Clan?”
“Where in the world have you ever seen guests who start riots in their host's home?”
“Well, yes, but…”
“Drop it. Those fellows intended for this to happen right from the start.”
“Pardon?”
“They deliberately picked a fight with us.”
“I mean, our clans have bad blood, so picking a fight isn't out of the question, but…”
“I told you. It was deliberate.”
“What difference does that—”
Geol snapped his mouth shut. Though he often babbled flatteringly around Yun like a simpleton, he was by no means a fool. If he were an idiot, he would never have been hailed as one of the promising young talents of the Namgung Clan. Martial masters did not weigh natural comprehension alongside skeletal bone structure for nothing.
“…Are you saying they were hatching some sort of scheme?”
“A scheme? The word is far too grand for something this petty. However, the fact that they wanted friction with us is undeniable.” Yun cast a casual glance toward the heap in the corner. “Though even they probably never imagined I would start throwing punches without exchanging a single word.”
Recalling the trio's stunned expressions, Geol couldn't help but chuckle. “Now that you mention it, the looks on their faces were absolute spectacles! That was truly entertaining.”
Pulling out a chair, Geol settled himself comfortably at the table and popped a warm dumpling into his mouth.
“Mmm, delicious. This place has always had a decent cook.”
Yeon sat down as well, though he could not share Geol’s relaxed posture.
“Even so, shouldn't we have at least listened to what happened first?”
“No need. It's obvious they seized on some trivial grievance just to start swinging.”
“Like claiming the food arrived too slow, or asking why someone looked at them funny,” Geol chimed in. “Plenty of classic excuses come to mind.”
“Be that as it may, this could cause serious trouble later,” Yeon insisted, visibly frustrated by their carefree demeanor.
No one in the Namgung Clan harbored any love for the Anhui Mo Clan. The urge to beat them into a pulp the moment they crossed paths was universal. The only reason they refrained was the mutual understanding that an open collision would leave neither side unscathed.
“Even if we had let it slide today, they would have fabricated another excuse elsewhere,” Yun said calmly.
“Do you have any basis for that claim?”
“Why do you think they chose to stay at this particular tavern?”
“The Mo Clan generally avoids lodging inside our clan estate,” Yeon answered. “Just as we do whenever our people visit them.”
No sensible person wanted to sleep inside a rival faction's headquarters while tensions remained razor-thin. The only time representatives from the Namgung or Mo clans stayed under the other's roof was when other great sects were present, minimizing the danger through sheer numbers.
“And is this place an inn befitting the Mo Clan?” Yun asked. “Don't they boast an influence comparable to the Namgung Clan?”
“That is…” Yeon faltered.
While members of the Namgung Clan frequented this tavern, they were strictly branch family members or lower-ranking warriors. It was hardly an establishment suitable for high-ranking figures. And Mo Seok-heon was undoubtedly a figure of high standing.
“Furthermore, don't you find it strange that they chose to dine out here in the common hall, rubbing shoulders with ordinary folk, rather than booking a private room?”
“Come to think of it,” Geol added, “this is the tavern we frequently drop by after finishing our street patrols.”
“Then shouldn't we have been even more cautious?!” Yeon protested. To his eyes, Yun had walked right into the Anhui Mo Clan's trap.
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why?! Since we don't know what the Anhui Mo Clan intends, we should have surveyed the situation—”
“So you're saying I should have tolerated scoundrels terrorizing people right under my nose?”
“……”
Yeon found himself recalling the conviction Yun had been preaching with such fervor lately.
Chivalry.
Turning a blind eye to the Mo disciples' rampage would indeed have violated the tenets of Righteousness and Chivalry.
“Even so…”
“Leaving chivalry aside, the same applies to my duty as a member of the Namgung Clan. Leaving thugs to run wild in our own territory, of all places? That isn't caution. That is sheer cowardice and stupidity.”
“……”
“At the very least, no one in our clan will dare rebuke me for this. A few might grumble, like you, that I should have investigated the particulars first, but they will be a tiny minority.”
Knowing the sheer animosity the Namgung Clan harbored toward the Mo Clan, the elders were far more likely to praise him.
“The Anhui Mo Clan must have anticipated this much when picking the fight. If they had intended an all-out war, they wouldn't be playing such petty games. Whatever grand scheme they think they have, it amounts to nothing serious.”
“To think you had analyzed the situation that deeply…” Yeon muttered, astonished.
“Well, throwing a punch without exchanging words was mostly because I found them annoying.”
“……”
“Bastards were glaring at me like mangy dogs.”
“……”
Yeon was struck completely speechless by the sheer bluntness of it. In contrast, Geol burst into boisterous laughter.
“Hahaha! As expected of Hyung-nim! Bold and magnanimous as always!”
Is 'magnanimous' really the word for this? Yeon thought, shaking his head. He is truly impossible to read.
Still, Yeon could at least take comfort in knowing Yun hadn't acted on thoughtless impulse.
“Are you waiting here for the Heaven-Collapsing Hegemonic Blade, then?” Yeon asked.
“No point dragging things out when we have business to settle,” Yun replied. “Besides, finding his subordinates beaten like that will sour his mood. If we leave, he might vent his frustration on the tavern staff.”
“So in the end, it really does come down to righteousness and chivalry.”
“Hardly. Calling this chivalry is giving it far too much credit. For a decent human being, he who tied the knot must untie it. It's nothing more than basic common sense.”
Yeon regarded him with a complicated expression. “…I feel as though I understand Hyung-nim a little better now. But even if taking responsibility is important, your opponent is the Heaven-Collapsing Hegemonic Blade. In the Jianghu, nothing is ever guaranteed. Can you truly handle whatever fallout might occur?”
“Of course.”
Beneath the appetizing aroma of the dishes, Yun caught the faintest, almost imperceptible whiff of an acrid stench drifting on the wind. He gave a calm nod.
“Then I have nothing more to say.”
“Even if you did, you wouldn't have time to say it,” Yun said, rising to his feet. “He's here.”
Footsteps echoed outside the broken entrance. Geol and Yeon rose in tandem, their postures stiffening.
“What in the world happened here?!”
Unexpectedly, the first person to step through the door was Namgung Uncheon. The General Administrator’s eyes went wide as saucers the moment he spotted Yun and the youths.
“Why are you children here?”
“General Administrator.”
Following closely behind Uncheon, Mo Seok-heon entered the tavern. His sharp gaze instantly swept across the floor, settling on the three Mo disciples crumpled messily in the corner.
“It seems your young ones have looked after mine, General Administrator.”
“What…!”
Only then did Uncheon notice the trio sprawled on the ground, his shock deepening into sheer dismay.
Mo Seok-heon strode forward with sweeping steps, crouched down, and pressed his fingers against their wrists to inspect their meridians.
“No need to fret,” Yun remarked smoothly from his table. “They’ve only passed out. Given enough time, they’ll wake up on their own.”
“Hmph!”
Mo Seok-heon placed his palm against one disciple’s back, driving a surge of true qi through the boy's acupoints.
“Gasp!”
“Or you could do that,” Yun added with utter nonchalance.
Mo Seok-heon swiftly roused the remaining two using the same method. Shaking their groggy heads in confusion, the three disciples scrambled to their senses, their expressions instantly contorting with venomous rage the moment their eyes landed on Namgung Yun.
“Now then,” Mo Seok-heon said, his chilling voice resounding like grinding iron through the empty tavern, “shall we hear the full story?”