Chapter 22
Chapter 22
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 22
Chapter Title: Even Strength Works (2)
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In the end, Lady Hwang Inhwa and Myeong slunk out of the square under a barrage of suspicious and furious glares.
In stark contrast, Murong Bi strode through the streets basking in the crowd's fervent cheers.
"So that's why you were asking around about Ga Hang's place yesterday! We respect you, young master!"
"Please stop by our fabric shop next time! If there's anything you're after, we'll hold it back just for you and let it go at wholesale prices!"
"Sob, come visit our Moon Fragrance Pavilion too! Just mention the name Gi Hyang! Even if we've got regulars, we'll serve you first!"
"Now that I look closely, our young master looks even thinner than I thought. Swing by our inn sometime. We need to fatten you up with some tonic dishes."
Crowd psychology is a scary thing.
One moment they'd been hurling insults at him, and now that he'd single-handedly wiped out the Black Tiger Gang, they were clamoring for him to patronize their shops.
'Their reactions tell the whole history of the Black Tiger Gang.'
There were probably some directly harmed by them, but plenty more indirectly affected too.
Sure, a few might have come out unscathed. Yet without exception, everyone was rejoicing.
It meant the Black Tiger Gang had been the worst scourge imaginable for the common folk.
'A fine start.'
Word was, the Ten Sword Sect and Hong Sword Clan were firmly counted among the orthodox sects.
Any upright faction worth its salt wouldn't let trash like that roam free. And yet they'd turned a blind eye, and the people didn't seem all that puzzled by it.
There was one simple reason.
'They know they could get stoned for speaking out.'
Powerless commoners aren't brainless. If anything, their survival instincts outmatch any martial artist's.
They sense it instinctively: those with power always end up in cahoots.
But they try desperately to forget it. They hypnotize themselves into believing it can't be true.
Over long years, they've learned that voicing doubts can lead to vanishing without a trace.
'That's why I need to get these people on my side.'
I have to poke at the truths they've buried away.
Only when they awaken to those truths and start raising their voices does public opinion take shape. And once it gains momentum, even a handful of powerhouses can't act recklessly.
In other words, for the weak to lay siege to an impregnable fortress, the fastest way is to seize the hearts and minds.
It was for my ancestor too, but one reason I'd smashed the Black Tiger Gang was to win these folks over.
'Still, this isn't enough.'
The Black Tiger Gang was just one outfit.
They'd infested the streets for ages, but their demise wouldn't topple the underworld.
Scum springs up everywhere, and dark paths run deep. The Ten Sword Sect and Hong Sword Clan could claim they'd kept the gang in check to prevent outright chaos in the streets.
And truthfully, that kind of moderate control was how streets and villages stayed intact.
In a way, it was why the imperial palace and magistrates left the martial world alone.
'Anyway, this momentum isn't bad. At least a few days, maybe a month—the talk of the Black Tiger Gang will buzz through these streets.'
That's why every incident needs a figurehead. The masses lose interest in stories without a protagonist.
'Damn, this is embarrassing.'
...Especially since that hero was me.
'Hero? For wrecking one lowlife den?'
Still, for the house, I could do worse. Hell, I could strip naked and dance in the busiest square.
For the house!
"I'll be off now. You all have livelihoods to tend to—sorry if I've wasted your time on my little stunt."
A dash of humble pie can turn a dying ember into a raging wildfire.
"No such thing!"
"Heavens, young master, you've cleaned up our streets for us!"
"Wah, you'll be blessed for this."
"If you want tonics, come anytime. I'll take personal responsibility for bulking up our young master's frame for ten days—no, a whole month."
And so, amid the crowd's passionate and heartfelt send-off, Murong Bi headed home.
Whoooosh.
The wind bit even in broad daylight.
Thinking back, not even a full day had passed since my revival. Yet I'd been through a hell of a lot.
"Chilly."
Alone on the wooded path, a dull ache crept into my gut.
I'd been ignoring it, but the internal injuries hurt like hell.
"Cough, cough! Damn it."
Murong Bi ducked into a small grove off the path and slumped against a tree.
Had the tension eased? His nape grew warm, and nausea surged relentlessly.
Vomiting here would bring up nothing but bloody clumps, nine times out of ten.
'Don't waste it—swallow, damn you.'
Circulating qi was out of the question. Better to steady his breathing and let his body recover.
Murong Bi closed his eyes and regulated his breath for over an hour.
Shoving distractions aside and focusing inward cleared his head before long.
...Though the sourness in his gut lingered.
"Hoo."
An hour later, daylight still held.
With his mind sharpened, a flood of tasks ahead piled up.
'Handled the Black Tiger Gang clean, so now it's all about the house.'
Adding the loot from Ga Hang, over 170,000 nyang had poured into the coffers.
A pittance compared to the old Murong house fortunes, but for the 'current' family, it was operating capital for years.
Depending on the ventures, that is.
'Top priority's still martial arts.'
Until the family grew stronger, every day was a candle in a typhoon.
What about public opinion on our side?
'I said at least ten days, but who knows when it'll fizzle.'
The people's fervor burns hot enough to scorch the heavens, but it dies on a mere puff when it fades.
That's human nature. They'll idolize the street hero today, applauding wildly, but soon enough it'll wilt away.
Especially with sects gripping Infinite City's hegemony glaring daggers.
'Praise to my face, but plenty of pumpkin seed spitting behind my back.'
That's the crowd for you.
Murong Bi understood them. Not because they were bad, but because reality left them powerless.
So he got them—but he didn't trust them.
All he trusted was family and the eye he'd honed so far.
'Martial arts... Reasons can be cooked up later. Once transmitted, we'll catch a breather.'
Murong Sujing's face floated up.
A touch gaunt, yet beautiful—with unyielding resolve shining through.
'Think she'll go for it?'
That stubborn girl wouldn't touch the money seized from Ga Hang, calling it tainted.
Her heart was pure, but without that steel, even kindness crumbles.
'Ugh.'
His cleared mind tangled again.
'Fine, head back first.'
But fix this pallor first. She'd fret otherwise.
With that, Murong Bi circulated qi another hour before heading home.
Internal wounds lingered, but his steps felt lighter.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ "Heh."
Physician Yang let out a breath, his face full of astonishment.
"No matter how I look, it's incredible. Does the Acting Patriarch sense it too?"
"Yes."
"The major meridians of the upper body are infused with potent yang energy. Tiny amounts, but each strand is incredibly dense."
"Just as I thought."
"The heart and lungs are especially remarkable. With blocked meridians so sensitive to breath, the heart and lungs weaken easily. You'd know best, Acting Patriarch."
"Yes."
"With such pure energy aiding warm, steady breathing, no suffering from meridian blockage for the next two years at least. Well-managed, it could hold three years easily."
It was cause for applause, but Murong Sujing's face stayed clouded.
Physician Yang pressed on, pretending not to notice.
"Heard the young master treated you."
"...Yes."
"Caught a glimpse of him this morning in passing. Tired, maybe, but nothing alarming."
"That's how it seemed to you?"
"Indeed. Didn't take his pulse, mind you."
Murong Sujing sighed.
Physician Yang's expression turned grave.
"As you likely suspect, to infuse such yang energy into the heart requires either a naturally yang-dominant constitution built up over long cultivation... or extreme yang internal energy."
"..."
"If neither... then he'd have drawn out his vital essence to do it."
"My brother has neither a yang-dominant body nor has he ever cultivated extreme yang arts."
"I know."
Murong Sujing ground her teeth.
Words burned on her tongue, but she held them back.
Physician Yang, gazing steadily at her, packed his tools and spoke.
"Anyway, your brother's achievement is astounding. Transmitting energy remotely at not even twenty? That's late-stage qi mastery."
Murong Sujing eyed him with troubled eyes.
Was he just reassuring her? Or genuinely impressed? His face brimmed only with awe for Murong Bi.
'Bi-ya.'
Truth be told, it was astonishing.
Murong Bi wasn't untalented in martial arts, but he fell short of her, blessed by the Nine Yin Absolute Meridian, or her inborn prodigy sister Murong Suhyang.
For such a brother to transmit energy into another's body?
Energy transfer demands profound knowledge of flesh and meridians.
'How in the world...'
Physician Yang rose.
"Since I'm here, I should check your brother over before I go."
"Ah, yes—thank you."
"No need for thanks. It's only right."
"But Bi-ya isn't home right now... Said he'd be back before dinner."
"I'll wait. I've got time."
Murong Sujing felt an inexplicable unease at his smile.
Always had. Physician Yang was an exceptional doctor, top among Bright Truth Temple's masters. He'd even settled nearby as her personal physician.
Incredibly grateful, yet sometimes his gaze sent chills down her spine.
'Must be my weakening body.'
Weak flesh weakens mind and spirit. Lingering resentment toward the world, no doubt.
"The young master aside, worry about yourself first. Don't push when you're barely holding on."
"Thank you."
Just then.
"Acting Patriarch."
Seok Ung's voice came from outside.
"What is it?"
"The young master is here."
Murong Sujing shot to her feet.
"Send him in."
Moments later.
The door opened, and Murong Bi entered.
Entering with a composed smile, his eyes landed on Physician Yang.
'The doc from this morning.'
Post-transmission, guts churning, he'd fled without thanks. Time to fix that.
"Thank you for looking after my sister."
"No thanks needed. You did the work."
"I insist."
Murong Bi looked up at Physician Yang.
In that instant, his gaze sharpened.
'Hm?'
What's with this guy?