Welcoming Guests (6)
As they ascended to the top floor, it was utter pandemonium.
“Moyong Daxia! Let me offer you a drink! Here, take it!”
“Ah, no, I'm not a daxia...”
“Moyong Daxia! Try some of this! It's the most expensive side dish in the whole inn—freshly made, not a single finger has touched it yet!”
“I, uh...”
“Gasp! Could you gentlemen possibly be from the Myeol Sa Army? It says 'Myeol Sa' right there on your armor?!”
“Well, yes, but... no, that's not it—we just want to eat now...”
“Join us! We'll treat you like kings!”
Just like any other inn, the top floor here was reserved for those who could afford it. Though quite a distance from the capital, it was right next door to Henan Province, with Zhuge family's main base at Yungzhong Mountain and Yangyang to the west. It drew crowds of wealthy folks who hated bustling crowds, so most of the patrons up here hailed from famous clans or merchant houses.
Moyong Woo, flustered, spoke up.
“We appreciate the kindness, but we need our own rest right now. Please understand.”
His embarrassment was plain, but his tone carried a firm resolve. Combined with his inherently gentle voice, it had the power to make people back off on their own.
The boisterous crowd's faces flushed with awkwardness.
“Ahem! Well, you're from the Alliance, so if you've come all this way, you must have important business.”
“We got a bit carried away, didn't we?”
“You're such famous figures—I couldn't help myself. Forgive me.”
Moyong Woo smiled.
“Not at all. If anything, I'm the one who's sorry. I'm just grateful for your understanding.”
The crowd gave sheepish laughs and returned to their seats.
Yeon Hojeong let out a low whistle.
He's definitely different, alright.
Moyong Woo could make people withdraw voluntarily without raising his voice or forcing the issue. It was a human charm Yeon Hojeong lacked.
The innate quality he'd suppressed back in Zhejiang was awakening alongside his fierce determination to forge his own path, blossoming into a charisma that drew hearts.
Yeon Hojeong couldn't do that. His nature didn't allow it, and a lifetime of battles had ingrained quick, instinctive speech and actions as habit.
I knew I had a good eye for people.
The ability to bend crowds to one's will—a innate talent more precious than martial prowess. Whether he became Martial Alliance Leader or Moyong family head, Moyong Woo would make an excellent leader.
“Whoa! Big brother!”
Gang Ryang waved enthusiastically. Even with his rapid recovery, his wounds shouldn't be fully healed yet—truly a sturdy guy.
Yeon Hojeong waved back and approached the group.
“Gasp!”
“...Bi-san Lord?”
“It's the Myeol Sa Army Leader!”
“That axe is massive.”
The crowd murmured, eyeing Yeon Hojeong. Unlike their warmth toward Moyong Woo, their gazes mixed admiration with subtle fear.
It was only natural. A veteran of ten thousand battles exuded a different aura. Especially out in the jianghu, Yeon Hojeong stayed ever-ready for ambushes, naturally radiating a blade-sharp presence.
Yeon Hojeong sat down.
Thud!
Setting Gwangryongbu beside him made a ferocious boom that echoed through the floor.
Moyong Woo said calmly, “Glad you made it back safe, Yeon Commander.”
It was in front of everyone. Calling him by title to avoid any rumors.
Yeon Hojeong nodded. “She's staying in Shanggao County, Jiangxi Province. We'll rest here tonight and move fast starting tomorrow.”
“Hm. Any peculiarities?”
“Nothing personal. But the doctors' union is giving her headaches.”
“Doctors' union?”
Yeon Hojeong relayed what the branch chief had told him.
Moyong Woo frowned. “How can men whose trade is healing act so petty?”
“Tell me about it.”
Muk Bi tossed it out bluntly while eating her noodles.
“Gonna be a mess.”
“Hm? What do you mean, Muk Vice Commander?”
Muk Bi pointed at Yeon Hojeong with her chopsticks. “He acts like he doesn't care about anyone else's business, but he can't stand crap like that. Bet he'll smash the Jiangxi doctors' union to bits.”
Yeon Hojeong snorted. “Our mission is escorting the Western Divine Maiden safely to the Alliance. Anything else? Not interested.”
“Really?”
“Unless they mess with us.”
Muk Bi smirked. “You know it too, Young Master Yeon. Fights break out wherever you go—it's fate.”
“No idea what you're talking about.”
“Then let's see this time.”
“You hoping for a fight?”
“As if.”
Muk Bi stuck out her tongue.
Yeon Hojeong said coolly, “Noodle bits on your tongue.”
“Eek!”
Her face red, Muk Bi whipped around and finished her noodles. She must've been starving, devouring it with gusto.
Gang Ryang asked, “But it's just a bunch of powerless doctors, right? Won't they back off if we say it's Alliance business?”
Moyong Woo shook his head. “It's not that simple.”
“Eh?”
“If force could've solved it, they wouldn't dare. And we're White Path righteous sects. Unless they strike first with clear proof, it's hard to just barge in and demand they stop.”
Gang Ryang scratched his head. “Honestly, I don't get why it's so complicated.”
“Well...”
“Sure, politics and all that, but isn't the White Path's core value xia? Patients dying because of those jerks—politics be damned, slap 'em first.”
Moyong Woo's eyes widened. “The White Path's core value...”
Gang Ryang shook his head. “'Right the wrongs'—isn't that what White Path folks always say? Hell, I'd be pissed and go sort it out myself hearing this.”
“Hah.”
Moyong Woo nodded. “Swordmaster Gang is right. Looks like I've been tainted by bad influences.”
“Pardon?”
“Sick people are suffering—I should've thought of that first. Political issues? We can deal after making a scene.”
Moyong Woo smiled. “Thanks to you, Swordmaster Gang, I've reflected on myself. My gratitude.”
“...Gratitude for this?”
Flustered, Gang Ryang buried his nose in his noodle bowl.
Yeon Hojeong chuckled. “Sometimes you need to see the world simply. Gang Ryang has a point.”
Moyong Woo sighed. “Moments like this make me realize how far I have to go.”
“Not far—just cautious. I said not to act rashly, but if those jerks were in front of you, Moyong Commander, you'd snap too.”
“Haha.”
“But as I said, our mission is escorting the Western Divine Maiden. Mission first—White Path values or whatever come after.”
“Yeon Commander's words ring true.”
“Too much talk. Eat first.”
Yeon Hojeong and Moyong Woo dove into their noodles. The table overflowed with stir-fried veggies, steamed pork, and more. After days of jerky and dry rations, they wolfed down the proper meals.
Gang Ryang especially devoured heaps—wounded bodies needed massive nutrition to heal.
After the feast, the group retired to their rooms.
Well past midnight.
Freshly bathed, Yeon Hojeong stepped into the rear garden and gazed at the sky.
“Nice moonlight.”
The cold night kept the garden empty. The inn still buzzed with revelry—folks partying late.
Yeon Hojeong smiled.
Smells like people.
Every day: missions, training, or watching the Tangma Army. Even iron wore down. His mind and body were fine, but he needed these breaks sometimes.
Gazing at the stars, he picked up Gwangryongbu.
“Screw leisure. One more swing.”
Woooong.
Gwangryongbu hummed lazily.
Maybe some basic forms.
Too cramped for full-power training. His precise qi control wouldn't damage anything, but no need to make noise.
Dull sword.
Yeoguk came to mind. He'd said his sword speed had slowed slightly from heavy dull sword practice. Risky for combat, but proof of immersion.
Been a while—maybe I should try dull axe.
Dull sword was literally slow sword. Seemed easy—swing slow—but reaching mastery demanded insane effort and focus. Perfect for precision, sword intent, and fluid changes.
Master it, and one swing crushed a myriad variations. He'd grasped the principle long ago, but perfected arts often yielded new insights unexpectedly.
Yeon Hojeong gripped Gwangryongbu two-handed and swung.
...
The axe moved slowly. Too slow. Over eighty jin heavy—even with his strength and qi, slow swings demanded far more than fast ones.
Time passed.
Drip.
Drip.
Sweat soaked Yeon Hojeong. Winter winds couldn't cool him. Wielding eighty jin was divine skill already; moving it this slow, rhythmically? Even innate god-strength struggled.
This is better than I thought.
Yeon Hojeong inwardly cheered.
Slower the speed, exponentially more strain on muscles and joints. Knew it, but the gains are huge.
His arts focused on one-strike kills—explosive power. But this near-still speed drained his strength instantly.
Why didn't I train like this sooner?
Simple: no need. But now? His maxed muscles craved the next level via dull axe.
Perfect.
Legs quaking in agony, but joy lit his face.
Now my body grows stronger.
For a man whose routine was tempering, new stimulus was the ultimate gift.
Over half a shichen of dull axe later, Yeon Hojeong collapsed, gasping.
“Huff! Huff! Damn, this could become a habit.”
A dozen breaths, and his panting steadied—his base stamina was elite.
“Tomorrow too.”
Standing, he slung Gwangryongbu over his shoulder and eyed a large tree by the inn.
“Enjoy the show? Come out.”
Swish.
A middle-aged man in his fifties appeared, as if waiting.
Yeon Hojeong's eyes chilled. “Who?”
The elder cupped his fists briefly. “I greet the Myeol Sa Army Leader, Bi-san's Lord.”
“Who are you?”
“Hubei's branch chief of the Medical God Society, Ga Yeok-so.”
Yeon Hojeong chuckled despite himself.
Muk Bi, you were right.
Guess this is my fate.