Actions Guided by Righteousness
There is a saying: "The rear waves of the Yangtze River drive the front waves forward." It is a well-known proverb, meaning that a new era and a new generation will inevitably replace the old. But one might wonder: why use the Yangtze River as a metaphor for the changing of generations? Yoo Jeong now understood the reason all too well.
"It's massive."
Even when Yoo Jeong turned his small head all the way from left to right, the river seemed endless. The same went for the people. Amidst the bustling crowd at the ferry dock, Yoo Jeong took care not to fall victim to any dockside scams.
It was only natural for it to be crowded. The Yangtze River was incredibly long, bordering countless cities. Thus, merchants and commoners alike heavily relied on its water transport.
The same was true for the martial artists of the Murim. Just as there were many cities along the Yangtze, there were also many great sects.
Some sought guidance in their martial arts. Others wished to challenge the warriors of the great sects to win fame. Still others came to spy on rival factions. Bearing their own distinct purposes, martial artists flocked to the great cities, and they, too, preferred the waterways.
"Even for martial artists, traveling by boat is much more comfortable than running for days on end using lightfoot techniques. Don't go wandering off alone and getting lost; just take a boat to Wuhan."
Namgung Sua had added those words before they parted.
'Sua really treats me like a child sometimes.'
Even though Yoo Jeong was her senior brother, it was absurd how she occasionally treated him like a naive child who knew nothing of the world. Of course, it was true that he lacked worldly experience, and since Namgung Sua was usually right, he never openly argued with her.
"Sigh."
Even that nagging and being treated like a child felt a little nostalgic now, Yoo Jeong thought.
Namgung Sua was no longer by his side.
"Miss Yoo."
As he sat alone in a wooded area slightly away from the village, a quiet voice called out to him. It was a familiar, feminine voice.
"Yeah," Yoo Jeong replied without even turning around.
In truth, he had known she was there before she even called out. He knew Namgung Sua had come to find him. The only reason he hadn't spoken first was...
"Were you crying?"
"What?"
Lost in thought, Yoo Jeong blinked in bewilderment at her sudden, blunt question.
"I'm just joking. You looked so downcast."
Was it that obvious? Yoo Jeong wondered, before quickly coming to a conclusion. It probably was. After all, he had walked all the way out here precisely because his mind was in such a tangled mess.
"About that—"
"I know."
Before he could even begin to explain what had happened over the past day, Namgung Sua cut him off. Sitting down beside him, she glanced curiously at the liquor bottle in his hand.
"Is there any left?"
"No."
"Why did you do it?"
Hearing her quiet question, Yoo Jeong asked himself the same thing. Why had he done it? It was the very question he had been repeating to himself while sitting alone in this open field.
"The Punglim Sect was a neutral faction, balanced between the Orthodox and Unorthodox paths. While your strength in annihilating them single-handedly is astonishing, this is an act that could have branded you a public enemy of the Murim."
Perhaps so. Yoo Jeong nodded. The lives he had taken at the Punglim Sect nearly numbered in the hundreds. Some might point fingers and call it a senseless slaughter.
"The Hwangro Merchant Group's situation was officially ruled as a suicide. They protested to the Namgung Clan based on a guard's testimony, but I defended you and managed to gloss it over somehow."
"I'm sorry."
"If the Punglim Sect's crimes hadn't come to light, I wouldn't have been able to do even that. The Hwangro Merchant Leader's suicide note played a significant role."
Recalling the serene face of the late Merchant Leader, Yoo Jeong's thoughts naturally drifted to the man's child.
"And the child?"
"The child? Ah."
Namgung Sua brushed her hand against her mask.
"I heard that even when our clan's martial artists asked if he saw anything, he kept his mouth tightly shut. They said they were surprised by how calm he was, unlike a typical child."
"I see."
Yoo Jeong smiled bitterly. So he didn't say anything. That child knew his father's death was murder, not suicide. Why had he kept silent? Perhaps it was an expression of his resolve to seek vengeance himself.
Namgung Sua quietly observed the contemplative Yoo Jeong before continuing.
"...For the sake of the Merchant Leader's honor, suicide is better than murder."
She added an explanation. If it were revealed as murder, the tangled web of gratitude and vengeance behind it would have to be unearthed. She had coordinated with the Merchant Leader's family to frame it as a suicide driven by his guilt over his friend's tragedy.
"Is that truly the right thing to do?"
"Miss Yoo."
"I acted on his friend's final request. The Merchant Leader was also someone who deserved punishment. Is it right to bury the truth under a lie like this?"
"Be realistic."
Yoo Jeong flinched. Namgung Sua's voice was surprisingly cold.
"If the truth is laid bare for all to see, what happens to you?"
"..."
"Young Hero Yoo. Didn't I tell you? The weight of blood stained upon one's name is not easily washed away."
"You did."
"If you reveal the truth just to grant the deceased a perfect revenge, those connected to the Punglim Sect will sharpen their blades against you."
Gratitude and vengeance are destiny, two sides of the same coin. It was a truth he had realized firsthand just last night. To those bound by ties of gratitude to the Punglim Sect, Yoo Jeong would become the target of their hatred. Thinking of the pill the Punglim Sect Leader had consumed, Yoo Jeong nodded.
"You're right."
"And besides, the members of the merchant group and the Merchant Leader's family are innocent."
Yoo Jeong's eyes wavered at her words. He recalled the merchants he had traveled with and the family who had seen him off. If asked whether they bore any guilt, at least in this matter, they were entirely innocent.
"I believe the Merchant Leader paid for his sins with his life. Dragging the remaining innocent people into this through guilt by association would be far too cruel."
In the end, that was the core of Namgung Sua's argument. Burying the truth to a reasonable degree was for the benefit of the living. She was telling him not to lose himself to the dead. It was cold, but highly rational, and Yoo Jeong couldn't help but agree to some extent.
"This is difficult."
"Of course it is. Did you think being a righteous hero was as simple as the stories make it out to be?"
Namgung Sua cut through Yoo Jeong's sigh like a blade, snapping back at him.
"Countless martial artists in the Jianghu fight and seek revenge for their own desires. Yet, very few are truly called heroes. It is a grueling, painful path, and recognition is hard to come by. That is why my Aunt-Master was so incredible."
"Indeed."
His shoulders slumped. Perhaps he had unconsciously let the praises of being a 'heroine' or a 'great hero' get to his head. Yoo Jeong quietly reflected on his own vanity. Taking pity on his dejected state, Namgung Sua let out a soft sigh and offered a gentle word of comfort.
"...Still, you did well this time. If I had known the whole story, I would have done the same."
"Thank you."
"And the fact that you went out of your way to help someone else is a massive step forward."
"Just what do you think of me?"
"Who knows?"
Hehe. Namgung Sua giggled, her laughter reminiscent of the mistress of the Flower Moon Pavilion. She sprang to her feet and spoke.
"Anyway, because of all this, there's something I need to tell you."
"What is it?"
"It seems I won't be able to accompany you to the Wulin Alliance Headquarters."
To Yoo Jeong, it was a bolt from the blue.
"There's the matter of the Sword Demon, and my father, the Clan Lord, has summoned me back to the main house. I'll also make sure to sort out the merchant group's affairs while I'm there."
Winking playfully, Namgung Sua tried to act cheerful, but Yoo Jeong could tell she wasn't looking forward to it. Yoo Jeong felt the same. He had no desire to travel the Murim without her. Since his master's departure, she was the person he shared the deepest bond with.
It was more than just losing a guide; it felt like bidding farewell to a true friend. Indeed, the impact of her absence was profound.
'The story of Boya breaking his lute strings wasn't for nothing.'
They said Boya cut the strings of his lute when his soulmate, Ziqi, died. Losing the one person who truly understood him was a deeply painful experience. At least, it was for Yoo Jeong.
A man's soul trapped in a woman's body. The number of people in the world who knew Yoo Jeong's secret could be counted on one hand. Yet, starting from his time in Hangzhou, they had begun to leave him one by one. Now, even Namgung Sua, the last one remaining by his side, was gone.
No matter how one looked at him, he appeared to be a woman. Possessing the appearance of an exceptionally beautiful young girl, Yoo Jeong drew all kinds of attention, and he was thoroughly exhausted by the constant stares.
Even now, gazes filled with admiration, envy, and lust were pouring over him. A few of them were blatantly staring at his chest.
'When I mentioned this to Sua and the Mistress before, they teased me mercilessly.'
"Women are naturally sensitive to the gazes of others. And it is only natural for men to have their eyes drawn to a shapely chest."
Teasing him that he had become a fully-fledged woman, the Mistress of the Flower Moon Pavilion had clapped her hands in delight, while Namgung Sua, for some reason, had kept her mouth shut.
'To think I'd actually miss those awkward days in Hangzhou.'
Yoo Jeong smiled bitterly. But time could not be turned back. His immediate goal was to reach the Wulin Alliance Headquarters, so he had to keep moving.
"It would be best if you didn't reveal your true identity unless absolutely necessary."
Namgung Sua had advised him as she handed over a plaque symbolizing the Vice Commander of the Phoenix Squad. He hadn't asked why. He merely assumed it was to maintain confidentiality regarding the Covenant of the Northern Sword.
'She told me to introduce myself as her acquaintance.'
"If you show this plaque to the Phoenix Squad, they will accommodate you. Just rest well, and I'll join you as soon as I finish my clan's business."
The look in her eyes as she spoke was like a mother leaving her child by the water's edge. It was a treatment he had frequently received ever since Namgung Sua found out his real age.
He had no complaints. Yoo Jeong also needed time to develop his sword forms, and witnessing various martial arts at the Wulin Alliance Headquarters would surely help. He intended to use this as an opportunity for quiet self-cultivation.
Until he met him.
Stopping by a tavern to grab a bite before the boat departed, Yoo Jeong's eyes widened as he came face-to-face with an unexpected figure.
Fights were common in taverns. This was especially true for those near the docks, where travelers from all over gathered. Some martial artists even went out of their way to find quieter places just to avoid getting dragged into brawls. Conversely, this meant these taverns were prime locations for gathering information.
Martial artists of all stripes would eat, drink, and chatter. Though each piece of gossip gathered from various regions might seem useless on its own, when pieced together, they often painted a remarkably clear picture. Thus, whenever the old man visited a new place, he always made a stop at a tavern.
Even if there were no customers, it was fine. Tavern keepers were usually well-connected, knew a surprising amount of rumors, and loved to talk. They, too, were excellent sources of information.
And above all, there was a far more important reason.
"Don't you even have some leftover cold rice?"
To fill his empty stomach. The old man was a beggar. It was his firm belief that a beggar must naturally beg to fill his belly, and a tavern was the perfect place to do so.
However, the owner of this particular tavern was not an easy target.
"We don't."
"Tsk. Don't be like that. Surely you have some leftover food."
"Even if we did, I wouldn't give it to you. Why should I give anything to someone looking so filthy?"
"A beggar is supposed to look filthy! What else do you expect? Kehehehe!"
"Even the heroes of the Beggars' Sect wash themselves these days. You should take a page out of their book."
At those words, the old beggar's face twisted in displeasure. Indeed, such talk had been circulating among the younger disciples of the Beggars' Sect. They claimed that to live up to the prestige of the Nine Great Sects and One Union, it was better and more efficient to dress cleanly, and so they cast aside their rags. But the old man utterly despised this trend.
Even if a beggar mastered martial arts, he was still a beggar; even if he performed heroic deeds, a beggar remained a beggar. The old man believed that if they forgot their true nature, they would ultimately be no different from any other martial artist.
"A beggar is supposed to look like a beggar! Tsk!"
He shouted, spitting as he spoke. To the old man, the tavern keeper's words were utter nonsense. The tavern keeper, looking as pale as if he might catch a disease from the flying spit, quickly backed away.
"If you don't want to give me food, just say so! Making all sorts of excuses to a beggar, honestly..."
"...I clearly told you we don't have any."
"Silence!"
The old beggar bellowed. Although he hadn't infused his voice with inner energy, his lungs were so powerful that the shout reverberated through the entire tavern.
"Sigh. Whatever, I don't care. We don't have any leftovers, so go somewhere else."
Naturally, every eye in the tavern turned toward them. The tavern keeper shook his head and retreated.
Well, this place is a bust. Just as the old beggar gave up and turned to leave...
"Elder."
A clear, resonant voice caught the old man's attention. The old beggar, Goegelgae, spun around and asked,
"Were you calling me?"
"Yes."
Sitting there was a young girl with brilliant blue eyes.
Yoo Jeong and Goegelgae. This was their second encounter in a tavern.