Chapter 50
Chapter 50
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 50
Chapter Title: The Beginning of Revival (4)
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In the end, Go Cheok and the White Dragon Squad had no choice but to quietly withdraw with the Hwang father and daughter in tow.
As they crossed the marketplace, the crowds didn't hurl a single insult their way. They simply glared with eyes filled with anger and disgust.
Once the Ten Sword Sect forces had vanished, the crowds erupted in cheers once more.
"Long live Young Master Murong!"
"Waaaaah!"
"That felt so damn good! For real!"
"Free. Tonic food for free."
"You like the Seven Stringed Qin, right? Come to our brothel tonight! I'll play it for you myself!"
"Actually, our shop has a secret brew of liquor. Come get drunk and cause a ruckus tonight. No, let me cause the ruckus for you!"
The crowds' enthusiastic cheers continued unabated.
Murong Bi gave a wry smile and bowed his head to them all before turning away.
"Let's go."
The cheers didn't stop until they were far from the marketplace.
The group turned into a narrow alley.
"My ears are still ringing."
"I blocked mine with internal energy halfway through."
A chuckle escaped Murong Suhyang's lips.
Murong Bi asked calmly.
"How was it?"
"What?"
"The crowds' cheers."
"What do you think? It was insanely satisfying. You deliberately dragged Lady Hwang through the marketplace, didn't you?"
"Yeah."
"I was a bit worried. She seemed to have some ace up her sleeve."
"If it got really dangerous, I would've run like I said."
"Honestly, it did feel risky. But... I also thought there was no need to run."
"Why?"
Murong Suhyang hesitated for a moment before shaking her head.
"I don't know. Just a feeling."
"A feeling, huh."
"But..."
She started to speak, then caught herself and shut her mouth.
But somehow, she felt it was okay to say it. It wouldn't make her look weak.
"It was a little scary."
"......"
"This whole thing worked out thanks to those people, right?"
"It was all thanks to them. Like you said, we waited in the marketplace to get their help."
"You set the stage?"
"An actor needs a stage to strut. Without that atmosphere, I couldn't have provoked them so easily."
"Something else, though. Your talent for pissing people off is terrifying."
"Truth is, I just listed their faults. It's practically self-inflicted. I just shook the rope right in front of them; I didn't do much."
It was no different from saying he'd killed someone by stabbing them, only for the victim to impale themselves.
"Anyway, you used the crowd to corner the enemy. It was satisfying to watch, but honestly, that's not something you can control at will. What gave you the confidence?"
"It looked like I was using them, but I just rode the wave of their hearts."
"What does that mean?"
Murong Bi looked up at the sky.
Seeing the cloudless sky, the crowds' frenzied voices seemed to echo faintly.
"They say the people's heart is the will of heaven. Sounds grandiose, but it's not. If you perk up your senses, reading people's hearts and the mood isn't that hard."
"......"
"In other words, with enough experience, anyone can know the will of heaven."
She had never thought of it that way.
Murong Suhyang listened intently to her brother's words.
"But most people can't. Know why?"
"......"
"Because it's a hassle to open their ears to them."
Why?
Murong Suhyang felt an inexplicable chill at those words.
"Asking the innkeeper how the neighborhood mood is lately? Not hard. Asking the fabric shop owner if it's tough getting new cloth these days? Not hard."
"......"
"Most powerful people can't—or won't—do it. It's a hassle."
"Why is it a hassle?"
"To be precise, at some point, they start seeing people as a hassle."
"......!"
"Money? Comes from people. Justification? Comes from dealings between people. Honor? Does it mean anything in the beast world? No. Only in the human world."
Murong Bi sighed.
"In the end, people are what matter. Once you stop valuing your people and think you handle everything alone, it's all downhill from there."
"......"
"Once you're on that downhill slope, it's hard to stop. You know you shouldn't, but halting a runaway cart is tough. That's what it means to get complacent."
Were you like that too?
Murong Suhyang wanted to ask.
"If you just live a little—very little—more diligently, even if you don't win hearts, at least you won't get hated."
Murong Suhyang forced a smile.
"That's rich coming from you. You've caused every kind of trouble there is."
"Yeah, not my place to say."
Murong Bi looked up at the sky again.
A few scattered cloud fragments had appeared in the once cloudless sky.
"That's why I'm trying to live in a way that I won't get sneered at for saying this stuff."
Something welled up in her chest.
Gazing at her brother with trembling eyes, Murong Suhyang clicked her tongue.
"What a joke. I don't buy it, you punk."
"It's been a while since I tried to act cool and profound. Do you have to ruin it?"
"You acting cool still doesn't make you cool. Blech!"
Murong Bi smiled.
"I'm scared too."
"What out of nowhere?"
"The crowds scare you? They scare me too."
"......Hm."
"Today we benefited from them, but depending on the situation, we could've faced backlash. If even the crowds turned on us when we had no power, what would've happened today?"
Just imagining it gave her goosebumps.
"But they didn't."
"The Ten Sword Sect had piled up their sins."
"......So if the Ten Sword Sect had just kept a minimum of decency, that stage wouldn't have been set."
"Good eye. The hearts of the oppressed breed resentment. Nothing scarier in the world than resentment."
"What if there's no resentment?"
"Depends on the situation. So remember this one thing."
Murong Bi's eyes gleamed.
"Everyone hides their cruelty."
"......"
"Even fellow weaklings enjoy watching others crash and burn miserably. Good people suddenly crave bloodshed like they've been possessed. The jianghu is full of them."
Jin Gwang, following behind, nodded silently.
Murong Bi continued.
"Watch people closely. Not for the family, but for yourself."
"......"
"It's more important than martial arts or money."
His words resonated deeply in her chest.
It felt like a precious lesson she'd carry through the decades ahead—hard to imagine anything more vital.
"I rambled too much. You'll figure it out with experience."
"If you could just shut up."
"Theory's no match for hands-on learning."
"Speaking of which, what will the Ten Sword Sect do next? They won't come seeking revenge?"
Truthfully, that was her biggest worry.
Murong Bi shook his head.
"Revenge? They'll be too busy with internal strife."
"Internal strife?"
"That Hong Sword Clan... what was it?"
"Red Sword Trio of the Crimson Sword Squad! Memorize it!"
"Right, Red Sword Trio. Those red-blade wielders went to the Ten Sword Sect?"
"Not sure if they actually went."
At that moment, Yeonpyeong spoke up.
"It seems certain."
"Really?"
"They headed west from the end of the marketplace. When you entered, I saw them returning the way they came."
Murong Suhyang glanced at her brother.
"He says so."
"Even if they didn't go to the Ten Sword Sect, it doesn't matter. Their sect leader's crippled, public opinion's trashed, treasurer's bedridden, and an elder's missing. You think the Hong Sword Clan will leave them be?"
"......Ah?!"
"Right now, the Ten Sword Sect should worry about the Hong Sword Clan, not their home base. They'll be in over their heads."
Murong Suhyang finally let out a gasp of admiration.
"Your brain really works overtime."
"What's with calling your brother 'brain'?"
"Then what...? Is it over? More or less?"
"Over? Far from it."
Murong Bi laughed heartily.
"This is just the beginning."
Murong Sujing greeted the returning group calmly.
She must have been terribly worried inside, but her steady voice praising them showed she had the bearing of a patriarch.
That day, House Murong gathered in the training grounds for the first time in ages, sharing drinks and food together.
It was an awkward gathering, but the mood wasn't bad.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The next day.
House Murong, somewhat bustling from morning, regained its calm only as the sun set.
To be precise, it was solemnity.
The entire Flower Sword Squad stood guard at various posts, their faces far more tense than usual.
And night fell.
At the hour of Xu precisely, the Murong sisters, Seok Ung, and Old Man Gwak gathered in front of the Ancestral Hall.
"Where's Bi?"
"He'll be here soon."
"I see."
Murong Suhyang sighed and muttered.
"Maybe he can't kick that habit after all..."
"Suhyang."
"Sister, it's not just anything—it's the ancestral rite. He always skipped it drunk before."
Murong Sujing didn't waver.
"He'll come soon."
"......Tch."
A little time passed.
Old Man Gwak cautiously suggested.
"Shall we light the candles and incense first?"
"Yes, please."
"Understood."
The Ancestral Hall doors opened.
As the candles were lit, numerous spirit tablets came into view.
Murong Sujing knelt at the forefront and bowed her head. Murong Suhyang, Seok Ung, and Old Man Gwak followed suit.
How much time passed like that.
Whoosh.
A gust of wind made their robes flutter.
Murong Suhyang turned her head and widened her eyes.
'What the hell is that?!'
Murong Bi had appeared. No, his bloodied kin had returned.
His attire was completely different from usual.
He wore ornate silk robes he rarely touched, so loose they looked like a blanket draped over him. The shoulders were so oversized his fingertips were hidden.
"......I'm gonna smack his head."
As Murong Suhyang trembled in fury.
Murong Bi passed her and stood beside Murong Sujing.
Murong Sujing slowly raised her head and said.
"You're late."
Murong Bi looked at the incense burner without replying.
Murong Sujing glimpsed undeniable sorrow and deep despair on her brother's face.
Her mouth opened on its own.
"Want to light the incense?"
"No."
Murong Bi removed his outer robe.
"Old Man Gwak."
"Yes, Young Master."
"Give me some fire."
Old Man Gwak brought embers.
Murong Bi neatly folded the robe, placed it before the incense burner, and set it alight.
Whoosh!
The outer robe was instantly engulfed in flames, billowing smoke.
Murong Suhyang finally shouted.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
"Miss."
Old Man Gwak said in a trembling voice.
"The Young Master is making a vow to the ancestors."
"Not insulting them?"
"No."
Old Man Gwak turned to Murong Bi.
Through the flames, Murong Bi's eyes gazing at the spirit tablets resembled flawless rubies.
"In the past, House Murong had a custom during ancestral rites to pray for prosperity. One representative would burn fine silk robes and entrust their soul to the ancestors."
"......!"
"If the family prospered and received blessings, the soul-pledged representative could not join the ancestors but would eternally wander this world, guarding the clan."
"......Was there such a thing?"
"You wouldn't know. Even the previous patriarch only experienced it a few times."
"......"
"It was a rite and tradition discarded as needless superstition."
Old Man Gwak wanted to ask how he knew of that forgotten history and culture.
But Murong Bi's eyes and aura brooked no questions.
Two spirit tablets pierced his gaze through the roaring flames.
'Brother. And Daeho.'
Murong Bi's eyes seemed to flicker with the dancing flames.
'Don't worry. The house will rise again.'
Tears finally flowed from Murong Bi's eyes.
'Rest easy now.'
On the fifth day since Murong Cheon had entered his descendant's body.
House Murong quietly fired the signal flare of its revival.