Chapter 60: Water Too Clear Has No Fish (8)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 60: Water Too Clear Has No Fish (8)
The fog was unnaturally thick.
Just a moment ago, Yeon So-wol had been walking the night streets of Xinxing County, but now, he had no idea where he was.
No.
He considered the possibility that it had all been a delusion. He thought he had been navigating the familiar streets of Xinxing this entire time, but when he tried to recall his exact path, his memory was a blur.
Had he, at some point, begun wandering aimlessly down a path to nowhere?
What kind of ghost story is this…?
The Xinxing Danger Avoidance Manual had advised him to pass through the county quietly and quickly, earning neither favor nor ire. But Yeon So-wol couldn't bring himself to do that.
This is happening in Xinxing County. I can't just pass by without knowing what’s going on.
He now carried the identity of a man from the Pungryu Martial Arts Hall, the foremost gate of Xinxing. He felt a sense of duty—a conviction that he could not remain ignorant of events unfolding within his own territory.
What if this is related to the martial world?
If it had anything to do with Mount Cheonro, he had to uncover the truth. If it involved some reclusive expert, he needed to pay his respects and make their acquaintance to avoid any future blunders. Perhaps he could even ask for their help in a time of need.
Yeon So-wol stopped in his tracks, awakened his Qi Sense, and felt out his surroundings.
Slowly. Carefully.
At last, his Qi Sense caught something.
It should have been impossible, but having reached the first-rate, his Qi Sense could now read the energies of the world. Against all odds, he detected a presence.
People…? Just as I thought. They’re martial artists. And incredibly skilled ones at that.
Beyond the fog, he sensed three figures sitting around a pavilion. The moment Yeon So-wol sensed them, they turned to look at him.
His shoulders flinched. The option to pass by quietly had vanished. All that remained was a direct confrontation.
“Yeon So-wol, adopted son of Lee Yu-baek, Master of the Pungryu Martial Arts Hall of Xinxing County, offers his greetings to the Seniors.”
He clasped his hands in a formal salute and bowed deeply at the waist.
“I am Jin Geol of Hubei. I offer my greetings.”
Jin Geol, quick on the uptake, bowed in the same direction.
Suddenly, a voice echoed from within the fog.
[[[ Children who know their manners. ]]]
It was a bizarre voice. It rang thunderously in his ears, yet it was impossible to discern its source. It was as if the entire world was speaking to him, overwhelming him with sheer pressure.
Jin Geol’s face turned deathly pale.
“S-Six Harmonies Sound Transmission…?”
Before Yeon So-wol could ask what that was, Jin Geol’s Sound Transmission whispered in his ear.
「It’s a Qigong technique far more profound than simple Sound Transmission. They’re at least at the Peak Realm. Perhaps even higher…」
Higher than the Peak Realm?
A dull ache started in Yeon So-wol’s stomach.
Isn’t this a sudden difficulty spike?
Xinxing County was a place where a first-rate expert could command respect, yet here was an expert of the Peak Realm—or higher—appearing out of nowhere. Compared to the martial artists listed in the Xinxing Danger Avoidance Manual—the Three Dogs of Xinxing or Eun-yeong of the Cheongun Pavilion—this was a being on a completely different level.
As his head spun, another voice rang out. This time, it wasn't the Six Harmonies Sound Transmission, but an ordinary voice. However, the fact that it carried so clearly through the thick fog meant it was anything but ordinary.
“Hey, you arrogant fool. Why are you showing off your power to a couple of young friends from the Jianghu right off the bat?”
Then, another voice followed—the gravelly, cracking voice of an old man.
“This is why you can’t trust rich and powerful bastards. Every single thing they do is arrogant and tasteless.”
The first voice, the one that had used the Six Harmonies Sound Transmission, ground its teeth.
“This big-nosed bastard and this beggar…”
Fwoosh!
The fog parted as if slashed by a sword. It formed hazy white walls on either side, creating a path to the pavilion ahead.
Splash, splash—
They must have been near the Jipseong River, as the ripples of the water were visible beyond the pavilion.
The old man with the cracking voice spoke. “Perfect timing. Come on over and have a drink.”
“Mm. Yes. This is good.”
“Hurry up and sit. I shall pour you a drink.”
“Ooh, listen to him, ‘I shall’.”
“Kekek. He said ‘I shall’.”
“Quiet, you beggar. You big-nose.”
Yeon So-wol and Jin Geol glanced at each other. They both felt it. This was an invitation that could neither be refused nor avoided.
In that case…
“Yes! We’re coming now!”
“Thank you! We were just getting thirsty!”
The two shouted cheerfully as they ascended the pavilion. Three men of similar age sat there: a white-haired beggar, a graying Daoist, and a distinguished noble with a large build, his face ruddy and his hair black despite his years.
Three empty wine bottles lay rolling around them, while three new, unopened bottles sat on the table. But what made Yeon So-wol most tense was something else entirely.
…They’re ordinary. I can’t feel any aura from them at all.
Unlike the noble, who exuded a sharp, intimidating pressure, the old Daoist and the beggar gave off no energy whatsoever. They seemed like a common beggar from the streets and an ordinary neighborhood Daoist.
But there was no way they were truly ordinary. Yeon So-wol felt his back grow damp with sweat. He snuck a glance and saw beads of cold sweat forming on Jin Geol’s forehead as well.
*
With just a few words—no, even before he had said much at all—Yeon So-wol had won the favor of the three old men.
“A polite young friend.”
“His energy is well-refined. A young man who has striven to cultivate his mind.”
“His actions are disciplined and do not stray from propriety. A rare bearing, especially in a rural place like this.”
And Jin Geol was not much different.
“This friend has also been taught well.”
“Birds of a feather, I suppose.”
“Most of all, I like his clothes. That’s right. You should mend them again and again and wear them sparingly.”
“Of course a beggar would say that.”
“What did you say, punk?”
Now that the two young men had found favor with the three elders, there was only one possible outcome.
“Do you like to drink?” the old beggar asked, snatching up a bottle of wine.
“Hold on, beggar.”
“What is it, big-nose?”
“Still, we should at least know what kind of men they are before we give them any. This whole mess started because we couldn’t finish it all ourselves, but isn’t this wine too precious to give to some inhuman beast?”
“They don’t look like that to me.”
“Even so.”
The old beggar clicked his tongue and set the bottle down. The old Daoist then asked with a solemn air.
“You two. What is the matter that weighs most heavily on your minds these days? What is it you most wish to accomplish?”
Flinch.
Yeon So-wol and Jin Geol shuddered in unison.
Swoosh—
The moment the old Daoist finished speaking, the natural qi of their surroundings began to shift. As if peering into their very souls, the energy of heaven and earth slowly circled them.
Yeon So-wol had experienced something similar before—when he first met the General Commander of Yanggwang at the Jipseong River.
Mujelbaek!
Crown Prince’s Grand Tutor!
The shouts from that day still echoed vividly in his ears.
Are they experts of that caliber? The old beggar and the old Daoist before me?
His vision swam. He felt as if he had bowed deeply to a tiger before waltzing right into its den. Yeon So-wol knew he absolutely could not mix any falsehood into his answer. If he did, he would be seen through instantly.
Yeon So-wol gritted his teeth and told the truth.
“Right now, I am planning to deal with the Mount Cheonro Bandits.”
He spoke of the heartbreaking stories he had read in the Xinxing Danger Avoidance Manual and the infuriating obstacles he'd faced while preparing for the subjugation. He spoke of Seo Mu-ryang, Hang In-woo, Eun-yeong, and the Resentful Dog.
The old beggar’s eyes grew moist. “See? What did I tell you, Daoist? I said he seemed like a good kid.”
“Hmm… Indeed, it seems so.”
The elders' gazes turned to Jin Geol.
“I simply intend to fight alongside a friend with whom my heart is aligned,” Jin Geol answered.
A subtle admiration flickered in the old men’s eyes.
“Sincere. Truly sincere.”
“Ah, to be young.”
“We were like that once…”
The three were lost in memory for a moment. The first to move was the ruddy-faced noble. He seized a wine bottle from the table.
“Hold out your cups!”
“Yes, sir!”
“Yes!”
Without hesitation, Yeon So-wol and Jin Geol raised their cups. They might have drunk it even if it were poison; that was how completely crushed they were by the elders' presence.
“This wine was left to us by our friend who passed away ten years ago. His last wish was for us to drink it all.”
Yeon So-wol was so startled he couldn't help but ask, “Such precious wine… Is it truly all right for us to drink it?”
The ruddy-faced old man gave a bitter smile. “Yeah. Our friend made way too much of it.”
The old Daoist and the beggar chimed in.
“He said he brewed it whenever he thought of us, but it’s just too much. We drank nonstop during the funeral and barely made a dent, so we promised to meet once a year to finish it off.”
“But this is already the tenth year. And there are still three bottles left. At this rate, we’ll never finish it.”
“As I said. I can’t come next year.”
“See? Look at him. That’s why we have to finish this today, no matter what… but honestly, I don’t think I can. So if you boys could drink some, it would actually be a great help,” the old beggar said, swaying on his feet.
Yeon So-wol grew puzzled. They can’t finish just three bottles?
Lee Yu-baek, who was merely at the first-rate, could gulp down three entire jugs of wine. What wine could one not handle if they could simply burn away the intoxication with True Fire? Yet these old men, who seemed far more profound, were troubled by three mere bottles.
The old beggar, reading Yeon So-wol’s expression, chuckled. “Heh. You punk. You think this is just any old wine? Daoist, why don’t you explain it to him.”
The refined Daoist spoke calmly. “This is a wine our Seon-a brewed with her whole heart. It acts directly on the Spirit. Even if we let the intoxicating fumes drift away into this wine-fog, in the end, our Spirits become thoroughly drunk. Whenever we meet, we drink two bottles at the least, four at the most. But this year, we’re already dizzy after just three.”
“But this bastard… Who gave you the right to call her ‘our Seon-a’?”
“I’ve called her that my whole life. This punk who met Seon-a a decade after I did is always picking a fight.”
“Hmph!”
While the noble and the Daoist growled at each other, the old beggar filled Jin Geol’s and So-wol’s cups to the brim.
“Anyway, that’s the story, so you two must drink at least two cups each. You seem to be the local talents, so you can handle two cups, right?”
The other two elders showed their interest again.
“That’s right. We’ve offered a cup to those we’ve taken a liking to over the years, but no one has ever managed two.”
“Right, right.”
Yeon So-wol suddenly grew curious. “If I may ask, what happened to those who drank the wine?”
“Hmm?” The old men tilted their heads for a moment before chattering away.
“Most of them didn’t know martial arts, right?”
“Right. We gave a cup to those who seemed to have good character.”
“They probably couldn’t get up for a month, don’t you think?”
“Sounds about right.”
“There were some who knew martial arts, too. They would have woken up in a day at the earliest, or a week at the latest.”
Cold sweat trickled down Yeon So-wol’s back. He finally understood how the Xinxing Danger Avoidance Manual had been written. These old men had offered a cup of wine as a favor, but those who drank it were likely bedridden for a month. For common folk, it must have been a disaster.
So that’s why it said to earn neither their ire nor their favor…
These crazy Jianghu people.
Oblivious to Yeon So-wol’s thoughts, the old men laughed.
“They’re truly lucky people.”
“I know, right? To get this precious wine.”
“Just one cup would have changed their lives.”
Yeon So-wol squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them. He met Jin Geol’s gaze. Jin Geol seemed to be thinking the same thing.
So-wol. Let’s drink as little as possible and escape.
Right, Jin Geol. If we’re not careful, we could pass out and miss the Mount Cheonro subjugation entirely.
The two gave a small nod and drained their cups.
Gulp—
They would drink the first one down coolly. Then, they resolved, they would find an excuse to refuse the next.
But then.
“Huh…?”
Yeon So-wol suddenly looked around. “Where did everyone go?”
The moment he drank the wine, the moment its hot fumes hit his nose, the scenery changed.
Swoosh—
A warm, refreshing wind blew. The thick wine-fog was gone. Only the quiet sound of a river flowing could be heard. He couldn't tell if it was the Jipseong River or the Han River.
“What is this? Is this sorcery?”
Wasn’t this what the Dark Arts, spoken of only in legends, felt like?
But every time the wind rustled past, shaking the blades of grass, his mind grew calmer.
“Ah…”
The warm energy carried on the wind seemed to comfort him. It’s okay. Everything is okay. You’ve worked so hard, haven’t you?
Yeon So-wol closed his eyes. He leaned against the edge of the unfamiliar pavilion and rested his head. Comfort. Languor. A baseless confidence that everything would turn out fine. Joy.
He sat like that for a long while, as if shaking off years of fatigue and fear, washing away the trauma imprinted on his mind.
Then, he suddenly stood up. His face was dazed, as if drunk. He slowly drew his sword and began a flowing sword dance.
Without purpose. Without meaning. Simply like a child delighted to hold a blade for the first time.
Following those free movements, the harmony of his qi shifted and stirred. Awkwardly at first. Chaotically. But Yeon So-wol kept swinging.
It was as if time had stopped. No matter how much he swung his sword, the warm sunlight never faded, and the gentle wind never ceased. Forgetting everything, Yeon So-wol swung his sword in a daze, as if trapped in eternity.
Gradually, the harmony of the Qi blossoming within his body began to find stability. The cultivation that Lee Yu-baek had predicted would take years was rapidly passing by in this timeless, dreamlike moment.
…
…
“…Ah.”
Yeon So-wol opened his eyes. A warm breeze brushed the tip of his nose and vanished.
“Oh! He’s awake! He handled one cup just fine!”
“Hmm. At this rate, don’t you think he could handle three?”
“I know. Maybe it’s because he’s a rare youth with a well-polished mind. He’s doing better than I thought.”
The three old men watched him with delight. Yeon So-wol glanced to his side. Jin Geol was still holding his empty cup, his eyes closed.
Gulp.
Swallowing once, Yeon So-wol carefully held out his cup.
“May I ask for one more?”
“Of course!”
“I’ll pour this one!”
The noble snatched the bottle and filled Yeon So-wol’s cup to the brim. Reflected on the surface of the wine, the moon, the galaxy, and a dream seemed to warp and sparkle.
The Jianghu is vast and high, and I am still so very small.
Yeon So-wol stared at the cup, mesmerized, then said, “I’ll be back.”
“Alright, then.”
He gulped down the wine.