Chapter 23
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Heavenly Net, Earthly Web 3
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A moment later.
The Old Man reappeared at the scene.
“A fine technique.”
The Old Man took his time, slowly examining the states of the Eastern Depot warriors.
Every one of them bore no external wounds at all, appearing as if they had simply fallen asleep.
The method of precisely striking the deadly acupoints with his fingers to fell a group of moving martial artists stone dead was a realm beyond even imagination.
The Old Man stripped off the upper garment of one corpse.
Then, flicking a small fire starter, he checked the upper body’s acupoints one by one.
Since the culprit who had done this had undoubtedly taken Han Sojung, the surest clue to that person’s identity lay in their martial technique.
“Could it be… this is…?”
On the solar plexus—the Front-Middle acupoint—there was a black fingerprint, stamped as if with ink.
With a grave expression, the Old Man redressed the corpse and rose to his feet.
He then clasped his hands toward the corpses of A-chil and A-hyeong, slumped on one side, and offered a prayer.
Murmuring prayers for a time, the Old Man unclasped his hands, bowed his head once, and vanished back into the darkness.
* * *
The Shenzhou Merchant Group’s entourage was deep in slumber.
All except the two warriors standing guard in rotation.
“You took quite some time, Young Master Seonwoyong.”
One of the warriors called out to Seonwoyong as he slowly emerged from the darkness, a smile in his voice.
“Dinner must not have agreed with me—my stomach’s churning like this. Even trying to relieve myself, nothing comes… Tsk.”
“Must be the cold. Circulate your qi a bit.”
“Reckon I should. You two get some rest now. I’ll take the watch—can’t sleep properly anyway.”
“What are you saying… We’d catch hell from the Pavilion Master. Heh heh….”
“No need to worry—go sleep. I’ll handle explaining to the Pavilion Master.”
“Heh heh… Wonder if that’s all right….”
“Don’t I even rate that much? Rest easy and sleep. Tough road ahead tomorrow. I can catch a nap in the carriage.”
“Then we’ll leave it to you.”
Bone-tired, the warriors wasted no more words and shuffled off to their spots.
Seonwoyong sat by the campfire where the warriors had been.
Opening his upper dantian sense, he checked that everyone had fallen asleep.
It had been ages since he’d taken a life, ages since he’d moved so busily through the night.
Dawn broke, and they stirred to action.
After a simple morning meal, the Shenzhou Merchant Group’s procession set off along the mountain road once more.
Seonwoyong was nowhere to be seen among them, though—his horse Gwi-ro-a was ambling idly behind one of the carriages.
By afternoon, after cresting a rugged pass, the road lay blocked.
“Halt.”
Eastern Depot elites and yamen runners from the local magistrate’s office stood barring the way, eyes sharp.
Jin Ichang spurred his mount forward, reined in, cupped his fists, and called out.
“You’ve worked hard. I’m Jin Ichang of Xi’an’s Shenzhou Merchant Group. Returning from Dengfeng County in Hunan Province. Kindly clear the road.”
The words subtly invoked ties to Shaolin.
“Fancy meeting you again, Pavilion Master Jin.”
Chief Punisher Thousand Household Officer Bangu stepped forward from the Eastern Depot ranks to return the greeting.
“Likewise, my lord. You must be exhausted.”
“No trouble last night? We slaved away all night….”
“Thanks to your vigilance, we passed without incident. Saw the signal flares go up. Must’ve been a busy night.”
“Tsk… Let a fish we had in hand slip away last night. Hence all this….”
“How’d that happen… Anyway, if you’d let us pass—we’ve far to go.”
“Certainly. Protocols demand a search, though—your cooperation, please.”
“Of course. Inspect all you like.”
At Bangu’s hand signal, the Eastern Depot elites began combing the procession from the front, lifting carriage curtains.
“Who’re you?”
Yanking back the rearmost carriage’s curtain revealed Seonwoyong sitting there awkwardly.
The elite fixed him with a piercing stare.
“Me? Seonwoyong. What’s this?”
Jin Ichang pushed forward.
“He’s an honored guest of our merchant group. Escorting a guest from Shaolin Temple—please, no offense.”
Bangu reacted to Jin Ichang’s words and approached Seonwoyong.
“Hmm… The same fellow from yesterday.”
Seonwoyong offered a perfunctory fist salute by way of greeting.
Still seated.
“Insolent whelp. On your feet!”
A nearby elite bellowed, and Seonwoyong clambered up, repeating the salute.
“Country yokel, know nothing. Seonwoyong of Hefei.”
Bangu ignored the greeting.
His eyes scanned the carriage interior instead.
“Nothing special in there, naturally.”
Jin Ichang sidled up to Bangu with those words; Bangu nodded and turned away.
A gesture, and the yamen runners blocking the front parted.
“Safe travels. No time now, but next time, let’s share a drink.”
“My lord, should you find yourself in Xi’an, seek out this Jin. Good liquor and fine dishes await.”
The two finished their courtesies, and the Shenzhou Merchant Group rolled onward.
An hour past the Eastern Depot search, Seonwoyong climbed down from the carriage where he’d lain, mounted Gwi-ro-a, and rode to the procession’s head.
“Rough night for you, looks like.”
Riding abreast, Jin Ichang glanced sidelong at Seonwoyong’s profile and tossed out an inscrutable remark.
“Turned out that way.”
“More at ease now?”
“Your consideration has made things comfortable enough, all told.”
“But what the devil’s that cargo?”
Seonwoyong replied to Jin Ichang’s question with bland indifference.
“You caught on, then.”
“If I missed unknown cargo in my own carriage, I’d hardly qualify as this group’s master.”
“Then you know what it is.”
“Rough idea. Care to say why load such cargo? Top of the list our group shuns—living cargo. Unidentified, no less.”
“No special reason. Just the original owner of this horse I’m riding—not wholly unconnected.”
Jin Ichang barked a laugh at Seonwoyong’s half-hearted answer.
“Smuggling a great criminal on such ‘connections.’ Got to hand it to your nerve.”
“Then why play dumb back there, brother?”
“Heh heh… Thick-headed. Think those fellows wouldn’t end us—me and Shenzhou Merchant Group both—if they spotted it? Who loaded it, why, knew or not—means squat.”
“Fair point.”
“You gambled our group’s very existence, all the same. Knowing or not.”
Seonwoyong fell silent a beat.
“My apologies there. But I was dead certain nothing would touch your group’s fate.”
“Heh heh… Meaning you’d slaughter the lot—officials and all—and cover tracks?”
“Hope it never came to that. But yes, if need be.”
“Couldn’t peg your skill level at all. That Bangu eunuch—probably my match. Ripe peak realm. One spark, and he’d vault to super peak….”
“Seemed that way.”
“And you’d take down dozens of Eastern Depot elites at once?”
“Dunno—haven’t tried. Speaking of—ever heard of the Soul-Summoning Thunder Sound technique, brother Jin?”
“Hmm… Soul-Summoning Thunder Sound… Heard tell, yeah… Your master’s signature move, they say….”
Naturally, Seonwoyong bore no discipleship to Thunder Sound Zither Immortal Seong Manjo—nor had he learned the technique from him.
But Seonwoyong had grasped its principles already.
“Exactly. A method to bind the souls of all hearing creatures via metal tones.”
“So you’ve cultivated that famed ultimate art?”
“Roughly. Can mimic it.”
“Heh heh… Been itching to hear your seven-stringed qin someday—now my nape hairs stand up.”
“A zither’s just a zither. Ha ha….”
“True enough. Sound arts—uncanny stuff. All the more with so little inner force from you….”
“Fundamentally unlike standard martial arts. Less about piling qi in the lower dantian—more attuning nature’s energies via the upper dantian’s opening.”
“Upper dantian… Anyway—what of the boy?”
“Well, General Han Dongjik’s unjust framing—world knows it, famed for yielding to save the people. Couldn’t stand by for his son’s torture death, so I stepped in….”
“Same mind here. A jianghu man can’t just watch.”
“The boy’s matter—discuss in Xi’an. Till then, no one knows of him. No one.”
“Got it. Will see to it.”
Evening fell; the Shenzhou group made camp in the mountains again. Soon the surroundings hushed and darkened.
Before Seonwoyong, seated in the carriage, sat a wooden tray of simple fare and a gourd of water.
Seonwoyong undid one bundle amid the cargo.
Han Sojung lay slumped within.
Pressing three acupoints in turn, Seonwoyong waited; soon Han Sojung coughed softly.
“Where… is this….”
“Coming around? Sit up.”
Han Sojung crawled from the bundle and sat. Seonwoyong slid over the tray wordlessly.
“Eat. Must be starving.”
Unused to proper meals through days on the run, Han Sojung shoveled in the food.
“Who are you, exactly? Where are we?”
He finished in a flash, rinsed his mouth from the gourd, and asked.
“Seonwoyong. You know I pulled you from the Eastern Depot crew—this is Shenzhou Merchant Group’s carriage, bound for Xi’an. Few days off. Stay put inside; I’ll seal your points for sleep till then. Easier on you.”
“Understood. But—seen an old man anywhere? The one guarding me….”
“Never laid eyes on him.”
“Phew… All right.”
Moments later, Seonwoyong resealed the acupoints, laid him down, and rebundled him.
The campfire’s flicker was dying.
In the deep predawn gloom, eyes watched the Shenzhou camp.
‘Shenzhou Merchant Group… What scheme? Rescued the young master from Eastern Depot—not ill-intentioned, surely.’
The Old Man.