Righteousness in Action
Yoo Jeong was tense. A master of the Transformation Realm. How many masters in the entire Murim could defeat him? This was especially true considering Yoo Jeong's young age. The reason he was so tense, however, was due to the status of the person he was about to meet. The Leader of the Wulin Alliance. The very head of the orthodox Murim had summoned him.
'I'd rather be going to a fight.'
If that were the case, he would have actually been excited. It was said that Shaolin's martial arts were so deep and vast that "all martial arts under heaven originated from Shaolin." And the current Alliance Leader was said to be the martial uncle of the Shaolin Temple's Abbot.
'If I could exchange a few blows with him, it would definitely help me refine my sword forms.'
But a man in the position of Alliance Leader would not easily agree to a duel. Yoo Jeong caressed the hilt of Cheonru and stood up.
"Are you leaving already?"
"But this dress is so pretty. I think it would look absolutely wonderful on you, Lady Yoo."
Eon Mi-ryeong and Dang So-hye. The women who called themselves the Flower-Seeking Twin Butterflies—often dubbed the Twin Butterflies—expressed their disappointment. Their eyes had been glued to Yoo Jeong the entire time, mostly focusing on his face and attire.
"I'm not wearing that."
"Just some makeup, then."
"Yes! Just a touch of color on your cheeks and lips would make you look stunning."
"No."
Unlike yesterday, Yoo Jeong's face was completely bare, and he wore his usual drab, dark martial robes. The Twin Butterflies had rushed over the moment they heard the Alliance Leader had summoned him. They were itching to dress him up, but Yoo Jeong was no longer going to be swayed by their smooth talking.
"Don't worry too much. Grandfather Alliance Leader is really nice."
Paeng So-eun spoke around a sweet pastry clamped between her teeth, having completely monopolized the bed. Licking the sugar off her fingers like a lazy kitten, she had arrived to see Yoo Jeong even earlier than the Twin Butterflies.
"I've come for revenge!" she had declared boldly upon her arrival, only for her grand entrance to be completely derailed by the sudden arrival of the Alliance's messenger. Since then, she had occupied his bed, declaring she would wait right there until he returned.
"Is that so?"
"Yeah. If you go, he'll give you lots of sweets. And if he nags you about that fat guy, just tell me. If I grab his beard, Grandfather can't do a thing."
So-eun raised her arm, flexing her tiny bicep. Watching her, a smile crept onto Yoo Jeong's face.
'Paeng's Scaled Kitten. The nickname suits her perfectly.'
Her childish, slightly spoiled way of speaking could have easily come across as rude, but combined with her bright energy and expressive face, it was actually quite endearing.
"Well, I'll be on my way then."
It had only been a single day. Yet, thanks to how warmly they treated him, much of his tension had melted away.
"Lady Yoo, can we at least style your hair a little?"
"No."
Yoo Jeong let out a bright laugh as he stepped out of the room. A moment later, his expression darkened.
'Goegelgae.'
Yoo Jeong ground his teeth.
"Achoo! Which bastard is talking smack behind my back?"
The old beggar dug around in his ear, pulled out a massive chunk of wax, and blew it away. Goegelgae, a Seven-Knot Elder of the Beggars' Sect, was strolling through the streets of Wuhan.
He swaggered down the main avenue with wide, splay-footed strides like a drunkard, naturally drawing everyone's eyes. Perhaps because the Wulin Alliance headquarters was located in Wuhan, quite a few people recognized his face. Martial artists clicked their tongues and averted their gaze, while the common folk bowed to him in respect.
"Bah, what's the point of bowing to a beggar? You'd do better to give me a bowl of cold rice!"
Whenever he tossed out such jokes, the crowd would burst into hearty laughter. After wandering around for a good while, Goegelgae slipped quietly into a narrow alleyway.
"Elder."
"Speak."
"We have narrowed down the suspicious locations to three."
"And from our side?"
"...My apologies. We have not found anything yet."
*Gulp, gulp.* "Ahhh."
Goegelgae lifted the gourd at his waist to wet his throat. His eyes grew heavy and serious.
"The bastards of the Four Black Alliances are popping up everywhere, yet our scouts are always a step behind. There is definitely a rat leaking our information."
"The Disciplinary Hall is currently sweeping through our major branches."
"They're lining a beggar's pockets. They must have gone to great lengths to avoid leaving a trail. Tell them not to overlook even the smallest detail."
"Understood."
The man standing respectfully before Goegelgae, receiving his orders, wore six patches of cloth stitched to his waist. A Six-Knot disciple. He was a Law Beggar of the sect.
"So, what did the Sect Leader say?"
This man also served as the liaison between Goegelgae in the Wulin Alliance and the Beggars' Sect Headquarters. The fact that a Law Beggar was handling the communications meant the situation was incredibly grave.
"He only left word that he is delegating the matter to the Successor Beggar."
"Ha... Haha! Even in a crisis like this, he's still playing power games? How frustrating, how utterly frustrating."
This was a matter that concerned the fate of not just the Beggars' Sect, but the entire orthodox Wulin. Yet, the Dragon Head Sect Leader of the Beggars' Sect was still trying to keep Goegelgae in check while pushing his own successor forward. Goegelgae laughed, though his heart bled.
"And that so-called Successor Beggar is completely distracted by the Dragon and Phoenix Gathering."
"...He must have some sort of plan."
"Tsk. The Clean Clothes Faction, they call themselves. What kind of plan could a fellow have when he spends his days worrying about what clothes to wear and what perfume to spray like some maiden?"
As this deep-seated, generational resentment reared its head, Goegelgae regretted his past choices for the first time.
"It would be faster to talk to the Divine Calculator instead."
"Elder."
"I know, you rascal. I'm just venting because I'm frustrated. Go and tell that rotten chief that I understood him perfectly."
"Please take care of yourself, Elder."
"Bah! What's a beggar got to take care of? Get going."
Goegelgae waved his hand dismissively, sending him away. The Law Beggar cupped his fists and vanished into the shadows. The lingering look of pity in the man's eyes left a bitter taste in Goegelgae's mouth.
"Hmph. What kind of wealth and glory does a beggar think he's going to enjoy anyway?"
A beggar should live like a beggar. That was Goegelgae's philosophy. To fill a starving belly, one must beg. Instead of expensive clothes, one should wrap themselves in rags and sleep with the sky as their blanket and the earth as their bed. Only then could they truly understand poverty, empathize with the common people, and feel compassion.
'Where has the righteousness of the Beggars' Sect gone?'
Who helped a beggar the most in their daily life? A wealthy man throwing a lavish feast? That was merely a fleeting moment. Those who truly shared in a beggar's life were mostly ordinary people. The cold lump of rice handed over with a scowl was the very fuel that kept them alive. To repay that kindness by acting on behalf of the weak—that was the origin of the Beggars' Sect, and the righteousness they pursued. At least, that was what Goegelgae believed.
'These youngsters only covet personal gain. It's deplorable.'
Anyone could wear clean clothes, achieve great deeds, and make a name for themselves—they didn't need to be a beggar for that. Goegelgae caressed his staff, the Gyeogo-bong. This weapon was meant to be wielded for the weak, directed against the strong. When the strong harbored evil intentions, countless weak souls were swept away in their wake. That was why it was called the Dog-Beating Staff, the Gyeogo-bong—meant to strike down rabid dogs. Yet, the Successor Beggar and his faction used such weapons for their own selfish desires. Goegelgae had no intention of understanding them. He only hoped that the next dogs he had to beat on the dog days of summer wouldn't be them.
Trudging out of the alley, Goegelgae's eyes fell upon a young child. The kid must have been running around frantically, as sweat beaded every inch of his small face. Catching his breath with great difficulty, the child saw Goegelgae and beamed.
"You're the eccentric beggar grandpa, right?"
"Huh? I don't recall ever having a grandson like you."
"Well, I don't recall ever having a grandpa like you either!"
"What? Bwahaha! What a clever little rascal. Yes, I am indeed the eccentric beggar, you little brat."
At that, the child held out a wooden board he had been clutching tightly.
"Here. A pretty sister at the Yeonghwaru told me to find the eccentric beggar and give this to him."
"How would a pretty lady know this old man?"
"She said everyone in Wuhan would know who the eccentric beggar is."
"Is that so? Let's see. Did you say Yeonghwaru?"
"Yes!"
"Yeonghwaru, Yeonghwaru..."
Mumbling the name, Goegelgae's eyes suddenly snapped wide. Taking the wooden board from the child's hands, he slowly ran his fingers over it, a wide grin spreading across his face.
"Ah, I see. Thank you, child."
Having finally grasped a clue, Goegelgae smiled and turned to leave. But at that moment, a small hand grabbed his tattered robes so hard they threatened to rip.
"Hmm?"
The child, holding tightly to his hem, held out his other hand, palm flat.
"My pay."
"Huh?"
"The pretty sister said the eccentric beggar would give me money too."
"Ha... Hahaha! In all my years, I've never seen a child shake down a beggar for money."
"Hurry up and give it to me. I worked really hard!"
Amused by the boy's audacity, Goegelgae chuckled and rummaged through his coin pouch. His face instantly froze.
"I don't suppose you take installment payments?"
"What's that?"
"...Ugh."
That day, Goegelgae was cleaned out of every last copper of his pocket money.
"Mister, Mister!"
"What is it? Did you bring the money?"
"Yes!"
The young girl opened her hand wide to reveal five copper coins. An old man adjusted the spectacles perched on his nose, peered down, and verified the coins.
"Here."
He scooped them from her palm and tossed her a book in return. Even though she couldn't even read the book in her hands, the girl smiled radiantly. Watching her, the old man grumpily stacked two more books on top of it.
"Oh? What are these for?"
"Tsk. I was going to throw them out anyway. Give them to your brother so he can use them as scrap paper to practice his writing."
"Ah! Thank you so much!"
"Don't thank me. I'm just giving you trash."
"But my brother said I must always say thank you when I receive something."
The girl's smile, bright as sunshine, brought a small bloom of warmth to the old man's wrinkled face.
"You've been raised well."
"I'll be going now, then. Goodbye!"
"Run along."
The old man watched with a warm gaze as her back receded, running off with the same energetic patter of footsteps she had entered with. Suddenly, a dark shadow loomed behind him.
"Elder. The price of those books was five silver coins, not five coppers."
"Aigoo, you scared the life out of me! You brat, didn't I tell you not to keep popping out of the shadows like that?"
"My apologies."
"My heart almost leaped out of my chest."
It was a dusty, dimly lit bookstore where sunlight rarely reached. A pair of large eyes blinking out of the darkness was indeed a rather bizarre sight. At the old man's scolding, a dark-skinned youth—a Kunlun Slave—stepped forward with a sheepish expression.
"Well, they were only going to gather dust here anyway. It's not like they're incredibly precious books. Besides, it's admirable to see such a young thing working so hard to support her brother's studies."
The old man cleared his throat with a loud cough. Hearing his words, the Kunlun Slave, Byeok So-gun, looked at him with a fresh perspective.
"You are far more warm-hearted than what I heard from my father."
"Hmph. I don't even need to hear what that fellow said about me to know. And as if you're one to talk."
The old man glared grumpily at Byeok So-gun. Under his gaze, Byeok So-gun offered an awkward laugh. The old man was an acquaintance of the Head of the Byeok Clan and the owner of this bookstore. On his way to meet him, Byeok So-gun had repeatedly run into people in need of help. Without pausing to consider whether the trouble was big or small, he had stopped to help every single one of them, which was why he was now terribly late for their appointment.
"What? 'Righteousness is doing what you can'? Bah! Living like that will get you killed in the blink of an eye, you fool."
"Haha. If I die while bringing honor to the name of the Byeok Clan, wouldn't that be a good death?"
"Hmph. You might look different, but you're a carbon copy of that Byeok fellow on the inside."
"Thank you."
"It wasn't a compliment, you brat! Hurry up and organize the rest of these books."
"Yes, sir."
Byeok So-gun resumed organizing the books. Watching him, the old man let out a low hum before asking quietly, "Hey, kid."
"Yes?"
"Would you like to take a look at a martial arts manual?"
As he asked, the old man's eyes gleamed with a sharp, piercing light that did not belong to a mere shopkeeper idling away his final days.
"Hohoho. So that is what happened."
An elderly monk stroked his snow-white beard, which contrasted sharply with his bald head. Though he looked like a friendly grandfather next door, Yoo Jeong knew this man was anything but ordinary. The Leader of the Wulin Alliance. A master who had mastered all of Shaolin's Seventy-Two Arts. Once the Hall Leader of the Arhat Hall, he had been known as the Unyielding Divine Monk, and now he was called the Snow-White Zen Master. He was a master of the Transformation Realm—Grandmaster Goeng-ryo.
Upon hearing Yoo Jeong's explanation, the legendary master burst into a hearty chuckle, looking very much like a grandfather doting on his grandchild.
"Do not worry. I did not summon you to scold you. I was simply curious because my friend Goegelgae praised you until his tongue went dry."
"...I would have expected him to speak nothing but ill of me."
"Hoho. How did you know?"
"It just felt like something he would do."
"He is prickly, but he is not a bad man. Do not hold too much of a grudge against him. The same goes for that young lad from Seokgajang."
"Aren't you seeing people in too positive a light, Grandmaster?"
"That is this old monk's greatest strength."
*Trickle.*
Grandmaster Goeng-ryo poured a liquid into the cup before him.
"Would you care for a cup as well?"
"Are you allowed to drink alcohol?"
Yoo Jeong answered the Grandmaster's question with a question of his own. The liquid the monk had poured into his cup was unmistakably alcohol.
"Oho. This is merely grain tea."
"..."
"My, you are a tough crowd."
Despite his excuse, the old monk downed the cup in one smooth motion. He smiled and said, "The Sword Empress has raised an excellent disciple."
Yoo Jeong flinched slightly at the mention of his master. But it was only natural. His opponent was the Leader of the Wulin Alliance. Furthermore, having spoken with Goegelgae, the Grandmaster would undoubtedly know Yoo Jeong's true identity.
"You seem to carry a deep anguish, disciple of the Sword Empress."
The old monk's benevolent eyes turned toward Yoo Jeong. Under that gaze, which felt as though it could pierce through his very soul, Yoo Jeong felt like a mere child.
'Well, in front of this monk, I am indeed a child.'
Yoo Jeong let out a soft chuckle at the thought. He toyed with the teacup in front of him for a moment before speaking.
"May I ask you a question?"
"A burden shared is a burden halved."
"What is righteousness?"
Righteousness. To this vague, profound question, Grandmaster Goeng-ryo chuckled softly, his gaze drifting toward the empty air with a nostalgic look. Then, he turned the question back on Yoo Jeong.
"Who are you?"
"Excuse me?"
Yoo Jeong was taken aback.