Chapter 88. The Wind Does Not Break (6)
Two days later.
“Oh, you've come.”
“It's good to see you again.”
“Haha, indeed.”
Moyong Gun was as composed as ever. Even in the sweltering summer heat, he wore luxurious robes that covered his sleeves and legs completely. Of course, with his profound cultivation, the changes of heat and cold held no sway over him.
Yeon Hojeong glanced at the table. Freshly prepared dishes—six or seven of them—were laid out atop it. Each one was extravagant and costly.
Moyong Gun gestured to a chair. “Sit there.”
“Very well.”
Seated, Yeon Hojeong looked around. “By the way, your daughter isn't with you today?”
“Yeonhwa? She's back at the main house. Unlike you, the girl still has much to learn.”
Yeon Hojeong smiled. “I wouldn't know about her martial arts, but her strategic mind seems exceptional.”
“Ho ho, even in your eyes?”
Of course. Back in his days as the Black Dark Emperor, Moyong Yeonhwa had displayed intellect rivaling even her father's now. Her strategies had inflicted heavy losses on the forces of Saneumgyo. Naturally, Heukje-seong had suffered hidden damages as well.
“If she hones it well, she could become a famed sword of the world.”
“How wonderful that would be. Truth be told, if she had been born a son, I might have named her heir soon enough.”
“That's unexpected.”
“Hm? What is?”
“I know how you ascended to family head. I figured someone like you wouldn't distinguish by bloodline or even gender.”
Moyong Gun smiled. He knew how he'd become family head. The implication was profound, yet he remained unshaken.
“It doesn't matter to me. But the world is not so forgiving. If a daughter became head, the main house would face endless finger-pointing.”
“I see.”
“The seat of family head isn't won by ability alone. Martial prowess, intellect, character—all matter. But only if you're a man.”
“……”
“One must match the era's talents as well. I see gender as part of that talent. It's the most regrettable one Yeonhwa lacks.”
A lie. After becoming Martial Alliance Leader, Moyong Gun had passed the family to Moyong Yeonhwa. Or rather, he hadn't fully relinquished it. He'd merely pushed her forward as acting head. Then, before the Battle of Hwangsan, he'd granted her the position outright before entering that final fight.
Weakened by the uncertainty of survival? Hardly. It was a battle with high odds of victory. He likely never imagined his own death.
He's keeping me in check.
Yes. He might have no intention of handing over the seat to Moyong Yeonhwa now. But Moyong Gun didn't truly view gender as talent. He was just reassuring his opponent. An exceptional child, but regrettably unfit for head. An outsider by marriage, nothing to worry about.
He's changed from before. More cautious now.
After the incidents that buried the Myeong family, his wariness toward Yeon Hojeong had sharpened. That was why he hid even trivial details.
I'll need to focus on this conversation.
Moyong Gun lifted a bottle of liquor. “Body all healed?”
“Good as new.”
“Ho ho, youth has its perks. Such grave wounds, yet already recovered? You keep surprising me in every way.”
This was sincere. Moyong Gun was genuinely astonished by Yeon Hojeong's recovery.
Yeon Hojeong gave a wry smile and raised his cup. “I'm still a long way off.”
“Don't say that elsewhere. You'll draw ire. Though, who would dare? You're the hot-blooded hero who lanced the festering abscess of the White Path martial world.”
Yeon Hojeong grimaced. “You have no idea how exhausting that's been.”
People saw results, not process. Had it been Yeon Hojeong—not a great family—who'd suffered, he'd be etched in history as a villain of the realm. But the Myeong family fell, and he survived. Only then did people scrutinize the process: why he'd challenged them alone, how he'd fought.
Thus, the three characters of Yeon Hojeong were seared into the minds of the era's martial artists.
“Exhausting, yes. But accept it. Fret over every gaze, and you'll accomplish nothing.”
A chill edged Yeon Hojeong's smile. “I'm feeling it keenly.”
And thanks to you, I'll feel it even more.
“Another round.”
They drained their cups cleanly.
“So, why did you summon me?”
“You? Ho ho, we joined hands to topple the Myeong family. You should know what fate awaits them.”
“I have no interest in the aftermath.”
“The type to ignore scraps on a picked-clean chicken bone?”
“I don't leave scraps.”
Moyong Gun shook his head. “You're mistaken. The Myeong family bore the title foremost under heaven for ages. Branded public enemies, the fugitives can't boast anywhere, but we must watch them for years.”
Moyong Gun wouldn't know why Yeon Hojeong said this. Even with dantian crippled, their fake Sasinmu lingered in their bodies. That energy, per its nature, would fester in heart, liver, lungs, or kidneys, ceaselessly harming them.
As public enemies, minimum sentence was ten years in the brain prison. None would survive it.
“The lofty ones of the martial world will handle it.”
Moyong Gun smiled, sensing Yeon Hojeong's true disinterest. He was also prodding for the real reason.
Sharp one.
The more he saw, the more he coveted him. And dreaded him. The more they talked, the clearer it became: this man wouldn't submit.
“You're remarkable.”
“You're too kind.”
“Good. With you glaring like that, I must get to the point out of fear.”
Moyong Gun refilled his cup and continued. “Do you know of the Huinan Mad Demon?”
“No.”
“Ah, I forgot. He has a more famous moniker.”
“……?”
“The Anhui Blood Bow?”
Yeon Hojeong's eyes flashed.
Moyong Gun smiled. “You know it.”
Know it? All too well.
To hear that name here.
Anhui Blood Bow. He'd first heard it while sweeping the black path martial world. Before his family's destruction, the name was unknown— he'd cared little for the world then. He hadn't even known of the Jegal family's Little Heaven Machine Corps.
But after the massacre, learning from his master and conquering the black path, he'd encountered the infamy of the Anhui Blood Bow.
More than that—he'd met him, even clashed hands. Later, building Heukje-seong, Yeon Hojeong had appointed him leader of the Five Divine Generals, the mightiest vanguard of the castle.
Muk Bi!
Anhui Blood Bow—no, Divine Bow Muk Bi. The world's foremost archer, mastering the rare and difficult art of archery to its pinnacle. A hundred-percent sniper, a death god whose monstrous hand-to-hand skill rivaled the other Five Divine Generals.
Why did that name— that title—emerge from Moyong Gun's mouth now?
“We'll call the Anhui Blood Bow simply Blood Bow. His infamy began five years ago with the bloody massacre in Huinan, Anhui.”
“……”
“He single-handedly destroyed Jinjian Gate, a sect rooted in Huinan. Know of them?”
“……No.”
“Hm, Jinjian Gate was renowned in northern Anhui. Strong in force, but especially in wealth, true to their name.”
“……”
“They walked the path of righteousness. In famines, they opened granaries to feed the common folk. When Jinjian Gate fell, the northern Anhui masses wailed and beat the earth, or so they say.”
“……”
“Naturally, Anhui's martial world erupted. Calls to hunt and kill Blood Bow rang out.”
“I see.”
“But he vanished without trace. Expert trackers and investigators found not a single footprint.”
Of course. True archers needed supreme lightness skill to shine. They distanced themselves, harassing with ceaseless shots and checks.
That old man's lightness skill was arguably peerless under heaven.
Besides Divine Bow, Muk Bi was called Ghost Phantom. Once moving, impossible to see or catch.
“Recently, he surfaced at Bagong Mountain in Anhui.”
Bagong Mountain spanned Huinan—south of the Huai River.
Moyong Gun frowned. “Reason unknown. Nostalgia for the sect he razed? Some perverse hobby? Or other motives? What matters is he's holed up there awhile.”
“Few would know.”
“Well seen. Rumors could make him flee. They're controlling information tightly.”
Yeon Hojeong sipped his liquor, steadying his mind.
“Why mention the Anhui Blood Bow?”
“Myeong Heo-rim.”
“……?”
“The Myeong family's escaped young master is heading to Anhui. And his destination? Bagong Mountain.”
Yeon Hojeong frowned. “Coincidence?”
“Has to be. I heard from Myeong U-san, their former steward.”
Coincidence… Was it really?
“The Myeong family has secret safehouses across the Central Plains. Like assassin dens.”
“The other great families do too, no?”
Moyong Gun scratched his cheek. “Well, yes. Though not to their extent.”
“So, a Myeong safehouse on Bagong Mountain?”
“Yes. There's one in Henan too, but it's crawling with martial artists hunting their fugitives. Closest spot excluding Henan is Bagong Mountain.”
Yeon Hojeong's gaze chilled.
Moyong Gun's smile deepened. “Why the look?”
“Be frank. Are you pushing for a new Mu Rim Meng?”
Moyong Gun felt a shiver before admiration.
What a demon.
He'd skipped steps, voicing the unthought. And it was spot-on. Soon public, but known only to summit leaders now.
“……Yes.”
“Planning to celebrate the new alliance's founding with Myeong Heo-rim's head as a toast?”
Moyong Gun burst into honest laughter. “Think us black path riffraff? You say gruesome things so easily.”
“……”
“True, a new Mu Rim Meng will rise soon, as you say. You know my dream: Alliance Leader.”
“Using this Myeong incident to push it forward?”
“Ho ho ho.”
Yeon Hojeong nodded. “I see.”
Outwardly calm, inwardly he cheered.
Perfect.
You couldn't place someone without an organization or post. He thought of Mo Yong Woo. The righteous man fit for Alliance Leader above all.
If a Mu Rim Meng forms now, all the better for me. Excellent.
Unlike Yeon Hojeong's glee, Moyong Gun's heart was ice-cold.
No good. After this, I must deal with him somehow. Too dangerous.
Yeon Hojeong asked, “Sharing this vital intel—does it mean you want to join hands again?”
Moyong Gun smiled thinly, eyes cold. “Yes.”
“Straight to it: what do I gain?”
Same breed as me.
Moyong Gun, masking his thoughts, produced a document. “This?”
“A permit.”
“Permit?”
“All assets of a branded public enemy family revert to the alliance. Wealth, manuals, elixirs—all.”
“……?”
“Capture Myeong Heo-rim, and you may peruse the Myeong family's martial manuals. This permit grants that.”
Yeon Hojeong's eyes gleamed.
“Could substitute something else. Whatever you need then.”
“……”
“Well? Shall we hunt Myeong Heo-rim?”
“One question first.”
“Ask.”
“Why me?”
Moyong Gun smiled again. “Young tiger of Gangdong. The era's storm who fought the foremost family alone for his clan. Little Overlord or Six-Armed Reborn.”
“……”
“All descriptors of you. You've proven yourself to the White Path. No need to convince me.”
“……”
“You have ambitions too. Let's shed the past's remnants and aid each other to rise.”
Meeting Moyong Gun's gaze transparently, Yeon Hojeong smiled faintly. “Care for a drink?”
Acceptance.
Moyong Gun laughed heartily. “As expected, bold! Knew you'd agree. Here, your cup.”
They clinked cups amid laughter. Their eyes held a thick camaraderie, even goodwill.
But both knew: the faces they showed were consummate acting, utter lies.
Thus, another incident laced with ties and enmities found Yeon Hojeong.