On the Road to Shaolin Temple (1)
Before departing the Jegal Clan stronghold, Song Hyeon released the captured Jegal warriors he had taken prisoner.
"Go your own way."
"……."
The warriors hesitated, glancing warily around, unable to take a single step. They feared turning their backs might invite a ruthless slaughter.
But Seo Baek's group paid them no mind and simply turned away, vanishing into the distance. Only then did the warriors relax, exchanging a few hushed words before scattering into the shadows.
A short while later, the lion statue they had first encountered upon arriving at the Jegal Clan loomed before Seo Baek's group once more.
Wang Yi Sam muttered wistfully, overcome with emotion.
"When we first saw this lion statue, I thought the Jegal Clan was some untouchable powerhouse we could never dream of challenging."
"Past glories can't last forever."
Song Hyeon, who had been silently brooding, finally replied.
That sparked a sudden realization in Wang Yi Sam.
"Right! That formation command you mentioned. Left-right-left-left-right-left-right-left-right. It was uncannily effective—the warriors couldn't budge! What's the secret technique behind it?"
But Song Hyeon's response was oddly curt.
"There isn't one."
"No secret? Left-right-left-left-right-left-right-left-right... There has to be some principle or logic to the sequence, right?"
"There isn't. I just said whatever came to mind."
"What kind of nonsense is that?"
"It's the same principle Jegal Hyeok uses with Qimen Dunjia—exploiting human psychology. Belief generates power. You trusted it was a secret technique, and that's why you overcame the warriors."
Wang Yi Sam blinked in stunned confusion, struggling to process the words.
Then enlightenment struck, and he blurted out,
"So you just spouted it off randomly?"
"Yes."
Song Hyeon nodded calmly.
Seo Baek and Song Hyeon pressed onward, but Wang Yi Sam stood frozen, mouth agape, unable to follow.
Suddenly, he bellowed at Song Hyeon's retreating back from afar.
"You damn bastard! Think I'll let you off that easy? Wait, come to think of it, I never even got your name! You ragged-robed wretch! What's your damn name?"
Song Hyeon turned his head slightly and replied indifferently,
"Song Hyeon."
The refugees who fled the Jegal Clan stronghold dispersed in all directions.
They split into two main groups: one heading east, the other south.
With revenants rampant in the northern capital, they sought refuge as far away as possible.
Whenever the chance arose, the refugees praised Seo Baek's group effusively.
Betrayed by the Wang Clan they had trusted, surrounded by a revenant horde—then Seo Baek's group stepped in, guiding them to safety. Gratitude was only natural.
Yet not a few harbored jealousy toward Seo Baek's companions.
Third-rate murim warriors mingled among the refugees were particularly resentful.
They had stood idly by when Song Hyeon proposed confronting the Jegal Clan, pretending not to hear.
Weak in martial prowess? Fine, live with it. But such types always coveted more than their skills allowed.
Those who cowered before the strong but gossiped viciously behind their backs were an eternal fixture of the world. Such was the way of things.
In an inn a week's journey from Yongzhong,
Three third-rate murim warriors who had wandered for days after fleeing the Jegal Clan finally stumbled inside.
True to their bullying nature toward the weak, they barked orders at the waiter the moment they saw him.
"Waiter! Bring us some baijiu!"
"Nah, fill our bellies first. Yangchun noodles, now!"
"If the broth ain't rich and proper, I'll shove the whole bowl down your throat!"
Even for a mere waiter, it was an infuriating display.
Strangely, though, the waiter grinned obsequiously, bowing low.
"Right away, sirs! Coming up!"
The oddity wasn't limited to the waiter.
Guests huddled in the inn's corners, nursing their drinks, kept their heads still but swiveled their eyes to fix on the third-raters.
Had it been Seo Baek, he would have sensed the overwhelming presences and tensed immediately.
But the oblivious third-raters, unaware of the dozens of gazes piercing them, continued their raucous clamor, shaking the rafters.
"That little brat! Barely old enough to bleed, and full of himself!"
"Acting like some murim legend? What a joke!"
"Heading to Shaolin to exterminate revenants? Like every Tom, Dick, and Harry can waltz into Shaolin!"
As the waiter served baijiu and yangchun noodles, he chimed in slyly.
"Sounds like you crossed paths with some rising star?"
"Rising star? Hah! If that kid's a rising star, then I'm at the peak realm!"
"What's this about Shaolin?"
"The brat wouldn't shut up about Shaolin. Said he had crucial info to deliver there."
"Claimed that info alone could wipe out the revenants."
"Pfft, if one scrap of info could end the revenants, the Central Plains would be paradise by now!"
"Wahaha! You're right!"
The third-raters roared with laughter at the waiter's agreement.
But they were ignorant of two key facts.
First, the inn they'd entered was a notorious black-market den, a secret haunt for local unorthodox and evil sect thugs.
Second, the guests eavesdropping on their chatter were assassins for hire or underworld operatives who handled the dirty work upright sects shunned.
The guests—no, the assassins—perked up at the warriors' words.
—A kid heading to Shaolin with valuable intel?
Snatch him as a hostage, and it's a massive windfall!
Yet a few assassins concealed an even darker secret.
A month prior, a Murim Alliance figure had leaked info to Central Plains' underworld factions.
—Someone's coming from Sichuan to Shaolin with information. Capture him, and you'll get a huge reward.
In other words, some assassins were already targeting the very person the warriors described.
As the waiter poured more baijiu and coaxed them slyly, the third-raters spilled details on the kid—Seo Baek's appearance, behavior, and his companions: the blue-robed man and the sword bearers.
Each tidbit made the assassins' eyes gleam.
—Jackpot intel falling right into our laps!
—What luck!
—From Yongzhong to Shaolin? The direct route's blocked by revenant hordes—they'll have to detour.
—Only one path left, then.
By the time the baijiu jug emptied, the warriors had blurted every scrap they knew.
Soon after, thoroughly drunk, they staggered upstairs to their rooms.
One assassin broke the silence.
"Leave 'em be, and they'll spread rumors far and wide."
"Can't have that. Intel's value lies in its scarcity."
The waiter piped up.
"Shall I seal their lips for you?"
"Good."
Ting. The assassin flicked a silver coin; the waiter snatched it midair.
"You sure you can handle three alone?"
"No worries. Chopping fish is hardly worth troubling the guests."
The waiter grinned, drawing a cleaver from his waistband.
As the waiter trailed the warriors upstairs, the first assassin scanned the inn and proposed,
"One suggestion."
"What?"
"Seo Baek, was it? Until the deadline, we don't touch the kid. No need for us to kill each other prematurely, right?"
"Not bad."
"I'm in."
Assassins nodded from various corners in agreement.
With the deal struck, they slipped out one by one.
Every assassin and underworld thug in the area now mobilized against Seo Baek.
Seo Baek's group left Yongzhong, heading north.
Hubei Province, home to Yongzhong, bordered Henan, where Shaolin Temple stood. Straight north meant no risk of getting lost en route to Shaolin.
But an unexpected obstacle barred their path.
Or perhaps not so unexpected.
The border between Hubei and Henan teemed with revenant hordes.
Every traveler they met warned that the north was a revenant hellscape, a place from which none returned alive.
"North from here? That's living hell."
"I barely escaped with my life. You'll never set foot there."
"Don't believe me? Go see for yourself—if you wanna end up a revenant."
The consistent, weary warnings rang true, no mere rumors.
One refined-looking murim warrior echoed the same.
"Right now, the worst revenant outbreak in the Central Plains is along the Hubei-Henan border. Don't take another step north from here. Get surrounded by the horde, and you're done."
Frustrated, Wang Yi Sam asked,
"We've faced plenty of revenants ourselves. Just skirt the horde undetected, right?"
But the warrior shook his head.
"What's the largest horde you've seen?"
"Hard to say. The one at Shu Dao Pass—thousands? No, tens of thousands."
"The border's crawling with tens of thousands scattered everywhere. Ten hordes? Twenty? Maybe more."
"……!"
"Heading to Shaolin?"
"Yes."
"Shaolin's been cut off, besieged by hordes—no word in ages. Don't waste your life on a fool's errand. Head south if you value your neck."
The warrior left after his admonition.
Wang Yi Sam spat on the ground in irritation.
"Ptoo! Everyone's ganging up saying don't go north—what's the deal? Scared stiff, who'd go to Shaolin now?!"
Seo Baek, as ever, remained calmly analytical.
Can't abandon the Shaolin trip. But breaking through the hordes like this is impossible.
He turned to Song Hyeon.
"What do you think?"
"……."
Song Hyeon pondered briefly before speaking.
"The Qin Dynasty's first great empire had its capital at Chang'an. The Han shifted it to Luoyang, but during the Ten Eunuchs' turmoil, Dong Zhuo seized power, burned Luoyang, and moved it back to Chang'an."
"That's right."
"Later, when the Song Dynasty made Kaifeng the Central Plains' transport and economic hub, Chang'an declined—but it remains one of the foremost ancient capitals."
"Correct."
Wang Yi Sam, listening in, exploded in exasperation.
"Who asked about Central Plains history and geography? Why drag in Chang'an, Luoyang, and Kaifeng now?!"
Song Hyeon fixed him with his usual impassive gaze.
"Luoyang and Kaifeng are in Henan. Chang'an's not, but it's right next door."
"I know that! Every three-year-old in the Central Plains knows it."
"Then where did the people of those three cities flee to—or end up?"
"Where else? In this chaos, they either evacuated... or turned revenant......"
Wang Yi Sam shouted, then trailed off as realization dawned.
"So the border hordes are..."
"Those who couldn't evacuate from the three cities became revenants. The most populous region in the Central Plains overrun means tens—hundreds of thousands—roaming the border. Inevitable."
"……!"
Wang Yi Sam's jaw dropped in shock.
Then another thought struck him.
"Wait. Then Shaolin..."
"Indeed."
Song Hyeon replied coldly.
"Shaolin sits at the heart of those revenant-infested cities."