Chronicles of the Northern Heavens Chapter 129 - Tears of Wudang
Yeon-hoo sat facing Hyeon-jin. It had already been several months since he arrived here, but this was their first private audience. He had waited until Hyeon-jin made up his mind.
"You still suit books so well."
"I appreciate it."
The books were ones Yeon-hoo had sent.
A glint appeared in Yeon-hoo's eyes. It was Hyeon-jin's tone. Not only had it grown more deferential, but the nuance it carried felt markedly different from before.
Pour.
As Hyeon-jin poured hot water into the teacup, he continued.
"I've heard you're changing remarkably in all sorts of ways. Ah... developing would be the better word."
"It's thanks to so many following along well."
Yeon-hoo took a sip of tea. A bitter tang lingered on his tongue, but the aroma was exquisite. Hyeon-jin was the type who savored the scent over the taste when drinking tea. Yeon-hoo was much the same.
"Your expression seems much gentler now. Could it be you've changed?"
"Not in the slightest."
"......"
"Disappointing, I know, but I have zero intention of altering myself. I'm merely adjusting my methods."
"Honesty suits you. Well, changing methods could be seen as a form of personal change, couldn't it? When judging someone, nothing matters more than their actions and the results they yield. In any case, I'm glad you look well."
"I hope that means it meets with your approval."
"I'm making an effort. To forget those horrific days of the past......"
Clink.
Hyeon-jin took a sip and asked.
"What brings you here?"
"Just passing by after the market. Nothing specific."
Yeon-hoo lifted his teacup again. Sharing tea like this stirred up old memories unbidden. Their first meeting, every trial they'd faced together afterward, even Hyeon-jin's disappointed face when he'd left—all flashed vividly in his mind.
"Back then, I truly lived like a beast......"
Yeon-hoo murmured without realizing it.
This time, a light flickered in Hyeon-jin's eyes. He'd glimpsed the regret shadowing Yeon-hoo's face.
"Have you ever regretted it......?"
"Never. Nor will I."
Snort.
"Sometimes you need to know how to lie. If you want to gain something."
"Noted."
Clink.
Yeon-hoo drained his cup and rose.
"Already? I brewed plenty more."
"Something urgent came up. Until next time."
As Yeon-hoo turned for the doorknob,
"I'll visit the main house soon."
"I'll await it."
Yeon-hoo departed straight for the Iron Blood Family. Hyeon-jin's gaze on his retreating back was complicated, thick conflict lurking beneath.
"Can I truly forget? That horrific past......"
Bizarre rocks and towering trees wove a breathtaking harmony, like a masterful painting. The northern conifer forests seemed to embody the bold, resilient spirit of the northern folk.
Pressing northward through such rugged terrain was a group of about fifty. Their robes torn, bloodstains everywhere, gasping ragged breaths yet refusing to halt—they were the Taoists of the Mudan Sect.
Among them was Jin Myeong, leader of Jinmu Hall. The blood matting his ripped robes spoke volumes of the ordeals endured to reach here.
Jin Myeong urged his juniors onward while scanning the lead. Guiding them was a middle-aged Taoist in his early fifties. Lithe and refined in appearance, yet his deeply etched eyes burned with fury that could scorch the world if unleashed. It was Jin Hoe, head of the Mudan Sect.
In his hand dangled a severed head, blood dripping steadily. Its bulging eyes belonged to a Golden Merchant Group expert who had pursued them not long ago.
Why, then, did Jin Hoe carry the trophy of his kill? Jin Myeong's gaze on it blazed with rage.
That one bastard took out six of us.
Indeed. The dead man had slain six Mudan disciples—a Golden Merchant Group elite and their band's leader. Though outnumbered two-to-one, when Jin Hoe beheaded him, the foes fled, allowing their escape here.
But all knew the pursuit wasn't over. Stronger foes hadn't even appeared yet. Thus, despite exhaustion, they pushed north without rest.
"Everyone, summon your strength!"
Jin Myeong encouraged the stragglers while guarding the rear.
How much time passed? The hellish incline finally gave way to level ground. A hunter's path, barely wide enough for one, ended at a sheer cliff of unknown depth.
Jin Hoe approached.
"Junior brother."
"Yes, senior brother."
"I'll take the rear."
"Let me. Rest a bit."
"Out of the way."
"......Yes."
Jin Myeong reluctantly took point. He knew all too well: on such narrow, treacherous paths, the rear bore the heaviest burden.
They eased their weary bodies somewhat on the flat stretch. But for the wounded, every passing moment was agony.
"Sect Leader! Hall Leader!"
A disciple suddenly cried out. Turning, Jin Myeong saw him weeping blood-tears yet smiling broadly.
"Please rebuild the sect and avenge us who go first! Live long and prosper!"
"No!"
As Jin Myeong lunged, the disciple hurled himself off the cliff. Nearby juniors reached desperately, but too late.
Tremble.
Jin Myeong shuddered head to toe. The disciple had sacrificed himself to prevent slowing them with his wounds.
How could Jin Myeong not know? Heart-wrenching grief engulfed him. All halted, dazed and lost.
Jin Hoe's roar snapped them awake.
"Don't stop—keep climbing! Northern Murim is the one place the Golden Merchant Group's reach falls shortest! We must go higher to survive! Move!"
No one grieved more than Jin Hoe. Yet he bellowed like a demon. And that broke Jin Myeong to tears.
Tears streamed. To hide them from his juniors, Jin Myeong whirled and marched on.
Crunch. Blood dripped from lips bitten through. Mingling tears soaked his chest crimson.
I'll repay you in blood, Golden Merchant Group......
They pressed on, resentment fueling them. After about two hours, disciples began collapsing—mostly the wounded, limits of will surpassed.
Jin Myeong eyed Jin Hoe. Understanding the silent plea, Jin Hoe addressed all.
"Rest here a moment."
Thud. Flop.
They collapsed into the underbrush like felled trees.
Jin Myeong approached with a waterskin.
"Drink."
"I'm fine."
"Senior brother."
At Jin Myeong's plea, Jin Hoe reluctantly sipped. Jin Myeong drank too.
Jin Hoe stared ahead, gaze steadying.
"No idea where we are."
"Ten days out of Gwangpyeong—we've climbed far north. Cross this range, hit a city, and we'll know exactly."
"We must reach as close to the Iron Blood Family at Northern Murim's heart as possible. Only then will the Golden Merchant Group hesitate to swing their blades."
"Yes, senior brother."
"Sit. Need more salve on that wound."
"I reapplied on the move. You rest."
"Fine."
Jin Hoe retreated to rear, climbing a jagged outcrop like a candlestick for vigil. Jin Myeong watched briefly, then turned to scout from the cliff's edge.
Through faint mists, a city sprawled like a go board. A river bisected its heart.
If we use the waterways, it'd save so much stamina......
Jin Myeong pondered options, staring. Suddenly, Hwasan Sect came to mind.
How many survived?
En route, he'd heard: like them, Hwasan had been assaulted by the Golden Merchant Group, nearly annihilated.
Thinking of Cheong-gong and Cheong-myeong, former allies in battle, brought a sigh.
They have to be safe......
Then a face erased the pity: Yeon-hoo's. Jin Myeong's features twisted in contempt.
You bastard.
A city three days south of the Iron Blood Family bustled as usual with passersby. But unlike normal, armed warriors dotted the crowds, eyes sharp.
Tailing them were familiar faces: Yuksoon and Seo-wi-ryang.
Seo-wi-ryang tilted his head.
"Why'd the lord send us here specifically?"
"He figures Mudan and Hwasan survivors would head as close to the main house as possible. Asked why—Northern Murim's the farthest from Golden Merchant Group influence, and closest to us is safest."
"So he expects those sects' remnants to make for the main house."
"Exactly. Their crossing into our north proves it. This city's a key pass from Gwangpyeong to the main house—that's why he sent us. Our lord's instincts are never wrong."
"True. But what if they skip the city?"
"Then what? Spotting suspected survivors, we act faster from here than waiting at the house. That's why the lord came down a day out too."
"Ah......"
Smack!
"Gah!"
"Head just for show?"
Yuksoon flicked Seo-wi-ryang's skull, dodging the counter and gliding ahead. Pausing, eyes gleaming, he turned back.
"Fleeing a bloodbath to here—they'd be exhausted, right?"
"No shit. Why?"
"Easiest way up for the weary?"
"Horses. Or waterways."
Smack!
"Head just for show?"
Seo-wi-ryang got revenge. Yuksoon rubbed his head, muttering.
"Not just one or two—horses are out. So?"
"Check the ferries."
"Right! You hold here, just in case. I'll hit the docks."
"I could come too......"
"Think contingencies, kid. Later!"
Soon, Yuksoon led twenty warriors to the docks.
Around the same time, Jin Myeong—disguised in plain clothes after cresting the range—headed alone to secure a boat.