Chapter 302
Chapter 302
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 302
Chapter Title: Desecrated Grave
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Morticians generally avoided jobs from the constabulary.
This was because the pay for handling a body designated by the constabulary was a mere five *mun*.
No one appreciated a well-prepared body, and it was more profitable to spend that time on other work.
So, when a job came from the constabulary, they would skip the rites, load the body onto a cart, and bury it on some random hill.
But Bu Jan-yang, the mortician of the Pyeong-an Mortuary in Hwangju-bu, was different.
He meticulously prepared even the unclaimed dead, and if there wasn't enough money for burial shrouds, he would pay for them himself.
He never buried the dead just anywhere, always seeking out a sunny spot for their final rest.
Because of this, he often struggled to make ends meet, but the Pyeong-an Mortuary was a happy place.
For the beloved grandfather and grandson always worked with joy.
“Grandfather…”
Bu Eun-seol’s eyes reddened as he looked up at the plaque that read ‘Pyeong-an Mortuary’.
The moment he left Sahyang, he had made his way to Hwangju-bu to find the Pyeong-an Mortuary.
Before searching for the trail of the Seven-Fingered Demonic Saber, Bu Jan-yang, he first wanted to find the trail of his grandfather, Bu Jan-yang.
“Our home… has become a ruin.”
The Pyeong-an Mortuary was already located on the outskirts of town, where few people passed.
But after the old mortician and his grandson suddenly vanished, it had become a desolate, abandoned house.
*Creeak.*
Inside, all the furniture was gone, and filth stained the floors and walls.
Thieves had taken anything of value, and it seemed homeless vagrants had stayed here for some time.
Bu Eun-seol looked at a half-broken wooden table in the corner of a room.
At night, an oil lamp used to flicker on that table.
And his grandfather would read by its dim light or mend his beloved grandson’s worn-out clothes.
Bu Eun-seol caressed the dust-covered table.
Touching the table, worn smooth by Bu Jan-yang’s hands, he could almost feel a lingering warmth.
After looking around the house for a while, Bu Eun-seol quietly went back outside.
‘I’ll start by comparing the trails of the Seven-Fingered Demonic Saber and my grandfather.’
Gazing at the distant sky, Bu Eun-seol clenched his fists.
His grandfather, whom he had thought to be an ordinary mortician, was a martial arts master who had cultivated Shaolin’s ultimate internal energy.
Since he couldn’t just storm into Shaolin and demand to know who his grandfather was, he decided to retrace their pasts step by step.
‘Grandfather never wanted me to become a martial artist.’
On the pretext of it being a ‘corpse game,’ Bu Jan-yang had taught Bu Eun-seol the life-preserving secrets of the Muscle-Tendon Change Classic and trained his mental fortitude to its absolute limit.
He had also taught him various martial arts principles and a wide range of knowledge while dissecting corpses.
But none of this was because he wanted Bu Eun-seol to become a martial artist.
In fact, Bu Jan-yang had not taught him a single martial arts technique, always stressing that the life of a martial artist never ended well.
‘He just wanted me to live a long life in this harsh world, without suffering misfortune.’
Bu Eun-seol could feel it.
He had taught him the Muscle-Tendon Change Classic so he would not fall ill and live a long, long life.
He had trained his mental fortitude to cope with the arduous life of a mortician, who had to face the gruesome bodies of the dead every day.
And he had made him an expert on the human body through analyzing causes of death simply to pass on the knowledge needed to restore the deceased to their living appearance as much as possible.
‘But the opposite happened, Grandfather.’
Everything Bu Jan-yang had passed down was meant to help him live a long, healthy life and become the best mortician in the region…
…but paradoxically, it had laid the foundation for Bu Eun-seol to become a supreme martial artist.
*Thump, thump.*
Leaving the ruined Pyeong-an Mortuary behind, Bu Eun-seol climbed a small, nearby hill.
It was where he had buried Bu Jan-yang.
At the time, Bu Eun-seol had been young and weak. So, among the places he could reach with an iron coffin on a cart,
he had found the sunniest, most secluded spot to make a grave.
“…!”
Arriving at the gravesite, Bu Eun-seol’s face turned pale.
He had built a cairn of stones over the spot where he buried Bu Jan-yang.
But the cairn was toppled, and the grave itself had been dug up.
*Fwoosh!*
Bu Eun-seol used his internal energy to instantly overturn the earth where the coffin should have been.
But there was nothing.
He had spent three days digging the grave deep back then, so deep that no wild animal could have disturbed it.
And even if an animal had managed to dig it up, it could not have carried away an iron coffin.
Someone had taken the coffin and his grandfather’s remains entirely.
“Ughhh.”
A vortex of true energy erupted from Bu Eun-seol’s body, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“What sin did my grandfather commit…”
*Krrrrr.*
Though not a breath of wind stirred, the trees in the forest began to shake.
“…that you won’t even let him rest in peace—!”
As his anguished cry echoed through the forest,
*KWAANG! Krrrrrr.*
a powerful wave of searing true energy blasted out in all directions.
In an instant, more than half the trees in the forest collapsed, and a blackened crater formed in the ground.
*Chiiii…*
The intense heat left rocks glowing red-hot and turned trees to smoldering charcoal.
As his mind returned to its original state, his desperate rage manifested not as the Ruyi True Arts, but as the fiery true energy of the Ultimate Yang.
“You have done something you never should have done.”
Gritting his teeth, Bu Eun-seol’s eyes turned the color of blood.
He had intended to end his revenge simply by punishing the fiend who had brutally murdered his grandfather.
But now, he had changed his mind.
“Not only the one who killed my grandfather, but everyone associated with him… I will drag every last one of them to hell.”
*Fwoosh.*
Engulfed in his blazing true energy, Bu Eun-seol looked like a demon wreathed in flames.
They had made a mistake.
Of all things, they should never have disturbed Bu Jan-yang’s eternal rest.
Even if the seas ran dry and the stones turned to dust…
…as long as they lived, the flame ignited in Bu Eun-seol’s heart would never be extinguished.
***
When day broke, Bu Eun-seol found an inn.
Until his revenge was complete.
And until he found his grandfather’s remains, he would not return to this town.
So, for one last time, he decided to visit the inn he had often frequented with his grandfather to relive some memories.
‘This place has changed a lot, too.’
As the town prospered, the inn had grown larger, and the young waiters had become middle-aged men.
“Welcome.”
A surly-looking waiter with a large mole on his face saw Bu Eun-seol and bowed obsequiously as he led him to a table.
“Right this way, sir.”
The waiter rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he guided him to a second-floor window seat with a fine view.
‘This will be a nice windfall.’
Martial artists, who live by the sword, always eat well and don’t spare any expense.
They were also generous tippers, often rewarding attentive waiters.
But the waiter’s expectations were shattered.
“Two bowls of noodles, please.”
He looked like the scion of a noble house, yet instead of a tip, he orders just two bowls of noodles?
‘What’s this about?’
I gave him the best seat in the house, and he doesn’t even order a single side dish like stir-fried vegetables?
He just looks the part. Is he a complete beggar?
“Very well.”
The waiter replied curtly and turned away in irritation.
“Get out of here!”
Just then, a commotion erupted outside.
Looking out the window, he saw children who appeared to be vagrants begging near the inn.
The manager had seen them and was now shooing them away.
“Tsk! Business is slow enough as it is! What bad luck!”
A bitter expression crossed Bu Eun-seol’s face.
That was the same manager who had once thrown out Bu Jan-yang and him, complaining that they smelled.
‘Why do people never change?’
Shaking his head, Bu Eun-seol looked out the window and called out in a loud voice.
“Manager.”
“Yes?”
“Send those children up here.”
“What?”
“And you come with them.”
The manager looked bewildered, wondering what this was all about.
But seeing the stern authority in Bu Eun-seol’s eyes, he had no choice but to send the children up.
“If it’s in a private room, a little smell won’t bother the other guests, will it?”
“Pardon?”
“Put the children in a private room and bring out every dish you can make.”
As the manager blinked in surprise, Bu Eun-seol took out a bank note and placed it on the table.
“Keep bringing food until the children are satisfied.”
“Y-Yes, right away.”
The manager snatched the bank note, his face alight with excitement, and quickly ushered the children into a private room.
“Your noodles are here.”
Just then, the waiter placed two bowls of noodles on the table.
Bu Eun-seol set one bowl in front of himself and the other on the opposite side of the table.
*—You rascal. We finally come to an inn, and you order noodles?*
Through the steam rising from the bowl, he could almost see Bu Jan-yang’s gentle smile.
Recalling that warm gaze and voice… Bu Eun-seol missed his grandfather terribly.
“Wouldn’t it have been better to just give them money?”
A clear voice suddenly reached Bu Eun-seol’s ears.
“Then those children could have eaten their fill for months.”
He turned his head to see a beauty in white, her lustrous black hair tied up in a bun, staring intently at him.
It was the Needle King’s granddaughter, Jong-ri Sa-yu.
“It’s been a while.”
She smiled brightly, revealing her white teeth.
Ever since the incident at the Underground Capital, she had been searching for Bu Eun-seol, who had vanished without a trace.
But the Cheon-geom-hoe was still refraining from public activity in the martial world, and even its headquarters was unknown.
So, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t find him.
And now, to run into him by chance in an inn, as if by fate?
She was so happy she wanted to dance.
“It has been.”
When Bu Eun-seol acknowledged her, she bloomed like a flower.
“Have you been well?”
Bu Eun-seol merely gave a slight nod, his expression impassive.
“Well enough.”
His attitude was so indifferent as to seem cold, but Jong-ri Sa-yu wasn’t offended.
She had experienced his aloof nature countless times before.
“But,”
she said, her eyes sparkling as she quickly sat down across from him.
“if you’re going to help, wouldn’t giving money be better than buying an expensive meal?”
Jong-ri Sa-yu was a perceptive woman.
Sensing that Bu Eun-seol didn’t want to talk, she had changed the subject to something he couldn’t ignore.
“I think eating their fill of watery porridge for a year would be better than stuffing themselves for just one day.”
“Give a large sum of money to young vagrants, and it will just be stolen from them.”
Bu Eun-seol said in a flat voice.
“You can’t help them forever. So, letting them eat their fill of delicious food… is the greatest kindness one can show them.”
Bu Eun-seol, who had survived by begging since childhood.
He knew the lives of vagrants better than anyone.
“I see.”
She nodded, looking quizzically at Bu Eun-seol’s eyes, which seemed lost in memory.
In truth, whether one gave vagrants food or money wasn’t the important thing.
What she wanted was to keep the conversation with Bu Eun-seol going.
‘He only seems cold in his words and expression. He’s actually a warm-hearted person.’
Jong-ri Sa-yu’s eyes sparkled even more brightly.
Seeing him spend so much money on vagrant children without hesitation,
she could guess that beneath his cold exterior, Bu Eun-seol was a very warm person.
And she liked that side of him even more.
‘Come to think of it, he risked his life to fight Gu Ju-hon for me.’
Gu Ju-hon had blocked the exit, so of course he had to fight.
But she was romanticizing the memory, believing Bu Eun-seol had stepped forward to save her.
“So, what brings you here?”
“There’s only one reason to come to an inn, isn’t there?”
Only then did Jong-ri Sa-yu notice Bu Eun-seol’s cold bowl of noodles.
“I’m sorry. I interrupted your meal.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
Bu Eun-seol brought the cold noodles to his lips.
He never wasted food and didn’t care whether it was hot or cold.
But Jong-ri Sa-yu looked apologetic and called the waiter over.
“Waiter! Two bowls of chicken noodles, stir-fried vegetables, a cold platter, fried shrimp, and a dish of beef and pine mushrooms!”
Then she looked at Bu Eun-seol and winked.
“As an apology, let me treat you to a proper meal.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Don’t refuse. It must be fate that we met like this. Besides, I have plenty of money, you know?”
Jong-ri Sa-yu sat across from Bu Eun-seol with a nonchalant expression.
“Enough to support a man I like for the rest of his life… hoho. Anyway, my family is much wealthier than people think.”
It was probably true.
The Needle King’s family was capable of operating a secret squadron just to find the creators of the Human Fire.
When her beauty didn’t seem to work, she had resorted to subtly boasting about her background.
“By the way, are you still searching for that enemy of yours?”
she asked, picking at the lavish spread of food that had arrived.
“Then again, it’s about time for the Cheon-geom-hoe to become active in the martial world again.”
By now, Jong-ri Sa-yu was speaking to him familiarly, even when he didn’t respond.
She was a true heroine, a woman who not only traveled the martial world practicing medicine but also hunted for the creators of the Human Fire.
Having finally found Bu Eun-seol after searching for so long, she wasn’t about to hesitate; she intended to firmly establish a connection with him.
“…”
But Bu Eun-seol just ate his noodles quietly, as if he hadn’t heard a thing.
“Oh, that reminds me, there was a plague in this very town of Hwangju-bu once. Come to think of it…”
Suddenly, a glint appeared in Bu Eun-seol’s indifferent eyes. He and his grandfather had worked as morticians here for ten years.
When had there been a plague?
“When was there a plague in Hwangju-bu?”
When Bu Eun-seol asked, she gave a coy smile and shook her head.
“Not recently. About forty years ago, I think?”
“Forty years ago.”
“It’s not something I experienced myself; it’s a story I heard from my grandfather.”
Jong-ri Sa-yu glanced around before leaning forward and whispering.
“My grandfather came here to treat patients when the plague broke out. At that time, what was it he said? He fought a fearsome saber user with seven fingers…”
*Clatter.*
Bu Eun-seol shot to his feet without realizing it.
Forty years ago. Not only was there a plague in Hwangju-bu, but the Seven-Fingered Demonic Saber, Bu Jan-yang, was here?