Pursuit in the Fog
Seongdo's winter was dual in nature. The city was quiet, yet noisy. The air clung to the skin, cold and humid, as if rain might fall at any moment. The wind crossing the high mountains of the Sichuan Basin permitted no rain clouds. Instead, it descended upon the city in the form of fog. At this time of year, Seongdo was always shrouded in an unpleasant mist. The season when yin energy was at its peak throughout the year—and thus, winter was near. Yet when yin flourished, yang did too, and the vitality of the people filled the fog pressing down on the city.
Winter marked the end of the year. It was the time when dozens of merchant groups rooted in Seongdo tallied their end-of-year gains. All the goods and people who had ventured to Bazhong, Hubei, and Shaanxi returned home to rest easy. Inns and brothels knew no respite. Drunken revelers vomited and chattered noisily. All sorts of rumors, ghost stories, and gossip swirled around the tavern tables. And at that moment, on the second floor of the Taepyeong Inn, there sat a certain girl.
"......"
The girl looked utterly bored. Propping her chin on one hand, she gazed listlessly at the main street. There was nothing particularly interesting about the groups of passing drunks. To Dang So-young, the third daughter of Seongdo's foremost clan, the Sacheon Dang Family, it was even less so. If anything, her own situation was far more intriguing. Because, in truth, she had run away from home right now.
"Same old, same old. Fights, schemes. Fights, schemes......"
Where there was much liquor, fights were frequent. Where there were many rumors, protagonists emerged. When quarrels arose, inns turned into battlegrounds, leaving the poor innkeepers woebegone. The local clans or black path gangs would mobilize to crack down. Nothing ever changed.
"Better than listening to the old fogeys at the Dang family compound nag, though."
The girl was eighteen this year. She craved excitement. The tales from her uncles, brothers, and sisters who had ventured into the jianghu were captivating. The Sacheon Dang Family was an old, upright faction clan, and they had never refused aid from the Murim Alliance or the righteous heroes of the jianghu. They always returned with bundles of stories about adventures and camaraderie. How her heart had raced at those tales. But such opportunities were forbidden to her. She wasn't a collateral branch member—she was direct lineage. And a daughter, at that. If even a scratch befell her, bearer of the family's priceless Pure Poison True Blood, the entire clan would turn upside down.
"Yawn."
Even when she occasionally slipped away like this to indulge in Seongdo, she never truly adventured. There was no camaraderie to be found in drunken brawls. As night deepened and her teacup emptied, boredom only deepened in Dang So-young's eyes. In another day or two, she'd have to show her face at the family compound to avoid suspicion. Ah, wasn't there anything fun?
That was when it happened.
"......"
A man appeared from the alleyway, instantly capturing Dang So-young's gaze. First off, he was peculiar. His hair was a wild mess, and in the dead of December's winter, he wore only light black martial robes—with bare feet, no less. Madman or freezing to death. But neither. His steps and breathing were steady. Applying the Sacheon Dang Family's unique eye technique, the Three Pure Eyes, revealed something even more intriguing. That man had no scars on his body.
"Ho?"
To wander dressed like that in winter meant he was an external martial arts cultivator. Such training inevitably left scars. Wounds were inevitable when honing profound arts. Even Dang So-young, the family's pampered golden child, bore a couple she couldn't avoid. Yet this man had none. Grinning with delight, she channeled more inner energy into her eye technique to probe further.
But then, something utterly unexpected occurred.
"Where, anything more interesting...... Ah?!"
The man was staring straight at Dang So-young. From the alley's entrance to her perch at the inn—over fifty jang away. Without the eye technique, he'd be a mere silhouette. To notice her covert gaze from this distance?
"Cough, cough! Achoo!"
Even more shocking followed. As Dang So-young sipped her tea, a sudden cough wracked her. A killing intent had exploded through the air. Chilled and ruthless, it triggered her body's instinctive reaction, choking her on the tea.
"Heh, heh... Whew, got something stuck in my throat. What the heck is that guy?"
Any onlooker would peg him as a hidden master. A normal martial artist would drop interest here. Everyone knew meddling in others' affairs in the jianghu brought no good—especially with someone stronger. But alas, Dang So-young was a girl born far removed from fear. Instead, she had already placed one foot on the Taepyeong Inn's second-floor railing.
Night was late, the wind fierce. But how could that hinder the Sacheon Dang Family's lightness skill? As a smile played on Dang So-young's lips, the young girl soared into the air. The colorful lights of Seongdo's alleys flashed below. Like an arrow, she landed gracefully atop the alley wall—in a stylish pose, right beside the man. He hadn't moved an inch in the meantime. He merely gazed quietly at the girl. Brushing off the skin-prickling killing intent, Dang So-young dangled one leg over the wall's edge.
Anyone could see: a hidden master. One with a story.
Yes.
"Hey there, handsome oppa."
Dang So-young had no intention of letting this chance slip. The girl flashed a toothy grin.
"Dunno what it is, but want me to help?"
What is this? Jang Cheon wondered. He entertained no thought of killing. He had become the murim's public enemy through revenge, never indiscriminate slaughter like some demonic overlord. Killing over street harassment was black path thuggery. But he was in a foul mood. The moment he entered Seongdo, someone had been watching him. He'd sent killing intent to warn them off, only for them to reveal themselves. Suspicious as hell—and of all things, a reckless girl.
Reckless. Girl. Child. From a wealthy, pampered clan, no less. Jang Cheon let his displeasure show plainly on his cold features.
"Scram."
"Eek, you weren't talking to me, right?"
Words wouldn't work on her type. Jang Cheon opted for another approach. Physically driving off a foolish miss was the worst of bad ideas. It would only summon her escorts or elders. Best was to ignore her until she tired. Her interest would fade, and she'd leave. Jang Cheon feigned disinterest and resumed walking. His first destination was set.
The one who had brought up the Demon Subjugation Squad to Cheon Sohyang. The one who had ultimately hounded her onto a lone path. Weiji Family Manor, was it? No need to ask directions—he'd inquired of passersby on entering Seongdo. Soon enough, Jang Cheon arrived.
A massive estate manor at Seongdo's outskirts.
"......"
The problem? It had become mere "foundations." The main gate was long demolished. Buildings bore scorch marks. Pavilions had collapsed in ruins, timber to ash, blue stones to rubble. Fat rats scurried through the debris. Jang Cheon silently, expression unchanging, surveyed the scene for a time. It was clear: a raid, total clan annihilation. Connected to Cheon Sohyang, that child? The jianghu's debts and grudges were tangled webs. Clans carried heaps of hatred. Rash judgments wouldn't do. He needed information. Jang Cheon advanced slowly, scrutinizing traces on wood shards and stone walls. Any martial art remnants could be clues.
"It went under last year, this place."
Had that reckless voice not piped up.
"Hm... what was it? Some Demonic Cult strike force or something. Argh, why can't I remember?"
Only then did Jang Cheon turn to look behind. A girl perched on stone wall rubble yawned lazily at him, her small mouth chattering nonstop.
"Anyway, poke around and you'll find Demonic Cult martial traces everywhere. That pillar over there, charred black? See the deep claw marks?"
The remnant of what was once a pillar bore deep gouges.
"Signature of the Demonic Cult's Blood Heaven Claw Technique. Three long, one short. Want more? But what's your deal with the Weiji Family Manor?"
"None of your business."
So Jang Cheon replied. A brief silence, then he added,
"And you're wrong."
With that, he trudged deeper into the Weiji Family Manor's ruins. Dang So-young stared blankly before leaping up.
I'm wrong? Me? How?
The Weiji Family Manor's fall to the Demonic Cult was known to all in Seongdo. Even the "Blood Heaven Claw" talk came from her family's elders. Dang So-young prided herself in three areas: poison arts, lightness skills, and eye techniques. Eye techniques!
"You saying I got the Blood Heaven Claw wrong? Who the hell are you? You know better than me?"
"Hey, when someone's talking to you, answer! You said I was wrong!"
Dang So-young pursued, grilling him step by step. Jang Cheon trudged on silently, offering no reply. Of course, that wouldn't make her give up. Drawn unwittingly, the girl ventured into the manor's deep shadows. Though the night was already far advanced.