Chapter 80
Chapter 80
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 80
Chapter Title: Master of the Treasure (5)
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“Junior Heroes Tournament?”
“Yeah.”
“To pick out who’s the bigger idiot?”
“What are you talking about?”
Murong Bi shook his head vigorously, having just remembered Hong In.
“Nah. Just thought of one moron.”
“Is there anyone dumber than you on this street?”
“Maybe not anymore?”
He must’ve smashed another one.
This pig is seriously terrifying. Everyone he bumps into ends up anything but safe.
Come to think of it, even if it’s awkward, having his blood in me might be a blessing.
“Tell me. I’ll listen while I eat.”
“Just eat already.”
“Got it.”
Murong Bi shoveled food into his mouth like a madman.
Murong Suhyang tilted her head, watching her brother chomp away at the rice grains.
What’s this?
Something feels... different?
Can’t put my finger on it, but he doesn’t look great.
Is he sick?
A moment later.
“Buuuurp!”
“Argh! You psycho! Where’d you belch that out?!”
“Can’t help what comes up.”
“Turn your head at least!”
“Keh heh.”
He laughed heartily as he picked up his bowl—same as always.
Murong Suhyang scrunched her face and pinched her nose, tilting her head again.
Not it? Just my imagination?
Honestly, my mood’s worse right now. Belching right in someone’s face? No manners at all.
“Let’s head out.”
“Urgh.”
A sharp wind greeted them as they left the restaurant.
“It’s getting cold. Time to layer up with some fur, for real. You okay?”
“This is nothing.”
“Goosebumps on your neck, though?”
“Anyway, you know the Hobuk Junior Heroes Tournament, right?”
“Nope.”
“You don’t?”
“No need to keep tabs on every annoying thing.”
“It’s about the family’s reputation!”
“Huh?”
“...You don’t remember Big Sis entering the Junior Heroes Tournament two years ago?”
Murong Bi scratched his head.
I wasn’t even there, so of course not.
“Was that a thing?”
“Ugh, I shouldn’t even bother telling you.”
“So what about it? Big Sis entering again?”
Murong Suhyang smacked her lips.
“The situation’s different from back then.”
“How? Age?”
“Age limit’s sixteen to twenty-four. No issue then or now.”
“Then what’s the problem? Though if we’re thinking of Big Sis’s health, skipping’s probably better.”
“That too... but she’s the Patriarch now.”
Murong Bi stopped in his tracks.
“The Patriarch.”
“Back then, no one from the main house could go, so no choice. And Sis was just Acting Patriarch, so it didn’t get out.”
“I see. Last year?”
“You don’t remember that either? No tournament last year.”
“Once every two years?”
“Pretty much up to the hosts’ whims.”
“Hosts?”
“Wudang Sect.”
Murong Bi’s eyes darkened in an instant.
Even Murong Suhyang flinched at the shift.
“Wudang Sect?”
“...Hobuk’s top dog, no contest. Zhuge Clan’s involved too, but Wudang’s the main one, Zhuge secondary.”
Is that so?
Junior Heroes Tournament, tied to the family’s reputation.
Probably more about connections than rep.
They used to hold sparring events back in the day to boost martial artists’ morale.
Martial artists stake their lives on fame and skills. Competitors are confident experts, so plenty to learn.
Of course, it’s still fighting—injuries galore, deaths in worst cases.
p>Even so, plenty entered. Righteous sect tournaments deploy veteran judges to call matches early, or ban live blades sometimes.
Beyond that, windswept wanderers see fearing injury as shameful.
Entering a public tournament screams confidence; they brace for some hurt.
This could be fun.
Frankly, Murong Bi couldn’t care less about kids bickering over who’s tougher.
But.
Wudang Sect hosting, huh.
Wudang Sect.
The sect that helped Murong blood take root in Wulin.
Bright Truth Temple too—this is getting tangled.
He recalled Old Man Gwak’s words about Sujing, which mentioned Bright Truth Temple.
Bright Truth Temple: Wudang’s medical branch, focused on internal arts healing.
They use acupuncture and herbs too, even train talents as physicians.
Murong Bi remembered Gwak’s tale.
Young master got an entry token from some Taoist. It was real, so luckily, Eldest Miss entered right away.
Really?
He was fourteen then.
His chest suddenly ached.
You looked out for your sister too.
I’d pegged him as a survivor who shrugged off everything, but no.
The old Murong Bi had cared for siblings, felt responsibility—a good kid. Amazing he’d shoulder the family at fourteen.
That’s why Sujing felt guilty toward me.
Now it made sense.
Family in ruins amid her Nine Yin Absolute Meridian.
She’d want out to unleash her talents. Lucky break into Wudang’s clinic? Heavenly fortune.
Heavenly fortune... Yeah, if that rascal Bi got it by luck, it was heaven-sent.
He pictured Sujing’s face back then, unseen.
She must’ve been thrilled.
Young—no, a kid—couldn’t help but buzz.
Even loving family, you crave your own path. Plenty older make colder cuts for theirs.
Not selfish. Just natural.
And she’d gotten an incurable condition.
More impressive she’d return to rebuild the house.
Murong Bi felt bittersweet.
Brother’s bloodline. Daeho and Jilbu’s kids. Of course they’re good-hearted.
Thinking of those kind souls struggling after parents’ deaths crushed him.
Murong Bi looked at Murong Suhyang.
“Suhyang.”
“Yeah?”
Murong Suhyang panicked. Her brother’s gaze turned too tender.
What weird nonsense now?
“Why the look?”
“You’ve been through a lot.”
“Suddenly?”
“Just... wanted to say it.”
Brother’s words flashed back.
Idiot, if it’s tough, say so. Don’t I whine all the time?
Embarrassing to admit that stuff.
We’re family. If you don’t say, how do I know?
No need. And it’s not that bad.
Seeing family pretend it’s fine when it’s not? Heart-wrenching. You know.
...
You gotta say it. That’s family.
Murong Bi placed a hand on Murong Suhyang’s shoulder.
Normally she’d swat it off with a jab, but not now.
This wasn’t teasing—his eyes looked truly sad and fond.
“I was too late.”
“...What.”
“I should’ve apologized to you first.”
“...”
“So much to say sorry for, too much to count. Knowing that, I should’ve hurried. But I didn’t.”
“...”
“I’m truly sorry.”
The suddenness hit like a bolt from a clear sky.
Gave her chills. Spine tingling, bladder protesting.
But why?
Words wouldn’t come.
Normally: shut your nonsense, why now? Easy snap.
But nothing emerged.
Staring at this unfamiliar self, panic rose. Already speechless, now clueless.
Murong Bi felt conflicted.
Such a kind, fragile girl.
Snaps and fumes on surface, but as sweet as her sister—gentler. Lost on how to react here.
Better if she’d rage: why apologize now? Live guilty forever!
She couldn’t even that. Couldn’t handle it—sweating, avoiding eyes.
Murong Bi patted her shoulder a few times, then sighed.
“Pretty abrupt, huh?”
“Uh? Yeah, a bit.”
“Felt like I’d forget otherwise. You know I’m a bit dense?”
His casual tone finally drew a response.
“Finally admitting it?”
“Yeah.”
Hard to argue now.
As she fidgeted again, Murong Bi thought.
Room for deeper talk later.
Pushing might just upset her more.
Maybe his assumption—selfish view. Still, her pained look made staying serious tough.
Murong Bi asked in a brighter voice.
“Anyway, sparring tournament?”
“Huh? Oh, right. The tournament.”
“Just enter. What’s the issue? Winner get any perks?”
“Perks? Oh, that... ”
Still flustered.
Murong Suhyang groaned, poking her head. Cute and pitiful trying to recall.
“Ah! Right, money. They give prize money.”
“Money? How much? Wudang Taoists’ll be stingy, robes or not.”
“Hundred thousand nyang.”
Murong Bi’s face froze.
“...How much?”
“Hundred thousand nyang. Yeah, two years ago it was.”
“...?!”
“Two years later, probably more this time...”
“Hey, you idiot! Why didn’t you say sooner?!”
He’d tried cheering up, but this bombshell.
“I’m off to Big Sis!”
Whoosh!
Lightness skill for that distance?
Murong Suhyang blinked against the sudden gust, standing dazed awhile.
Nearly fifteen minutes passed before she snapped out.
“...What the hell with him?”
Sudden serious apology, then wild boar sprint at money mention.
Emotional whiplash too much.
Later, a thought bubbled.
Is this psycho pioneering new teasing territory?
Nah.
She could sense his emotions fine.
Gazing toward the Patriarch’s quarters, Seok Ung’s words surfaced.
Sometimes, know it’s an issue but wait anyway. They’re not hiding to avoid sharing.
Still gotta wait? Poke wrong, resentment festers into pus—then you lance it.
Waited, and it burst before festering.
No sadness or anger.
Didn’t even know what burst. Thoughts and heart tangled.
In the end, Murong Suhyang interpreted her way.
“That lunatic pulled another crazy stunt. Whatever.”
Snorting, she headed to the training grounds.
Her flushed face wouldn’t cool in the icy wind.