Chapter 24
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 24
Chapter Title: The Returning Horse Meets Its Master 1
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After shaking off the Eastern Depot's pursuit last night, he had tracked down the Shenzhou Merchant Group's camp—the only spot in those mountains still aglow with firelight.
A careful search of the area turned up one of the leather shoes Han Sojung had been wearing.
From then on, he had been shadowing the Shenzhou Merchant Group in secret, keeping tabs on their movements.
‘Gotta move before dawn. That young lord who lingered so long in their carriage last night is almost certainly there—over ninety percent chance.’
The old man had resolved to rescue Han Sojung from the Shenzhou Merchant Group's carriage.
The one who had spirited her away, however, was a master beyond even his reckoning.
If it came to a clash, all he could do was trust the man's good intentions.
As the stars faded from the night sky, the two warriors standing watch by the campfire began to nod off.
The old man rose silently from behind the rock where he had been hiding.
That was when it happened.
“Stay right there.”
It was a whisper, barely audible.
Yet it rang clear in the old man’s ears.
He turned to find the man already there, crouched beside the very rock he had been using for cover. He was unmistakably a young man in his twenties.
Dressed like an unassuming scholar with no trace of martial prowess, it was Seonwoyong.
The old man’s hand instinctively went to the hilt of the saber at his waist.
“Old timer. Draw that, and you’re dead.”
“You’re the one? Who took the young lord away?”
“Let’s say I am.”
“Hmm… In that case, greetings are in order.”
The old man withdrew his hand from the saber, clasped his fists in salute, and bowed.
“This Jang Moga humbly thanks the young hero.”
“Skip the formalities. Don’t do anything foolish—just withdraw as you are.”
“What’s your plan, exactly? And your intentions?”
Seonwoyong silently pointed toward the cluster of tethered horses in the distance.
“See that yellow one over there? You probably recognize it….”
“Hmm, indeed… I thought it looked familiar… It’s Hwangro. Skin and bones, but yes. How did you end up with that horse?”
“Bought it by chance at a horse market in the capital. Fate works in strange ways. Everything connects like this.”
“So you rescued the young lord because of that horse?”
“Not because of the horse, exactly. More like the horse rescued her. Besides, I despise outfits like the Eastern Depot and the Brocade Guards….”
“Very well. What’s your plan from here?”
“There’s no safer or more comfortable spot right now than that Shenzhou Merchant Group’s carriage.”
“I’ll grant you that, but….”
“In a few days, we’ll reach Xi’an and enter the Shenzhou Merchant Group’s compound. Follow at a leisurely pace until then. The day after we arrive, come boldly through the front gate and find me.”
“I understand. What’s your name?”
“Seonwoyong.”
“Very well, I’ll take my leave then. Thanks again.”
“Enough. Don’t tail us too closely—keep it slow. No need to rush, and we don’t want anyone spotting you and thinking the old timer’s got a tail.”
“Understood. I’ll do that.”
Jang Moga gave a slight bow, then turned to go.
He paused, turning back to Seonwoyong with one more question.
“Just one thing. Was that the Ink Mixing Finger you used the other day?”
“Ink Mixing Finger? Hmm… Never heard of it.”
“Never heard of it… I see. Farewell.”
Jang Moga vanished into the darkness.
Seonwoyong stood and ambled away.
‘That guy’s got sharp eyes. Tsk….’
* * *
The Kunlun Mountains—or the vast Kunlun range—stretched over eight thousand li westward from Qinghai Province in China.
A colossal chain linking far-off to the Pamir Plateau and facing the Tian Shan, the Roof of the World.
Somewhere within lay the legendary Kunlun Mountain, said to be home to the Queen Mother of the West—but that was mere myth. To most in the martial world, Kunlun evoked the Kunlun Sect that made its home there.
The esoteric arts born in this Taoist holy land bordered on legend themselves, and their masters rarely ventured into the jianghu.
It lay in the remote borderlands, far from the Central Plains.
Yet when the Kunlun Sect did emerge, bloodshed inevitably followed.
It wasn’t their doing.
Their primary role in the jianghu was to monitor provocations from the Western Regions’ martial folk or unrest from the Great Cloud Bright Religion, now called the Demonic Cult.
Thus, it was exceedingly rare for Kunlun’s white-robed elders to ride thousands of li into the Central Plains.
The sect’s stronghold perched midway up one of the range’s loftiest, most treacherous peaks.
Cliffs plunged a thousand ren straight down, clouds drifted through the crevices, and a narrow path wormed upward like a trail for mountain goats before the mountain gate appeared, faint as a trace.
No sign of human presence, of course.
Yet an old man with stooped white hair toiled up a precarious stone path along one sheer face.
His gray-brown robes hung in tatters; the wooden staff in his left hand was pitifully crude. His snowy hair was bound up with a freshly cut willow twig.
Even a mountain gate little more than a trace had its guardians.
As the old man reached it, two young Taoists appeared from nowhere to bar his way.
“Elder, what brings you to these deep mountain halls?”
The old man slowly raised his head at the young Taoist’s question.
His eyes were crusted and runny.
Deep wrinkles scarred a face half-covered in age spots, and few teeth remained in his mouth.
“Isn’t this the sacred Kunlun ground of the Kunlun Sect? I’ve come all this way with a few questions.”
“You are correct—this is Kunlun’s sacred ground. But to trek here just to ask? Go ahead, then.”
“Heh heh… Can you even answer? Heh heh….”
“Please, speak. This humble Daoist will do his best.”
“Never mind that. Escort me to… that Supreme Clarity Hall. From what I hear, that’s where your sect leader resides….”
“You wish to see the sect leader?”
“Seems I must. Only someone of that stature can answer what I’m after, no?”
“Ha ha… Elder, please don’t insist. Ask your questions here. If it’s beyond me, I’ll go up and consult the sect elders.”
“Heh heh… Why make this so difficult? Just guide this old codger there.”
“My apologies. For decades now, our sect has admitted no outsiders. Even pilgrims and worshippers are received only on set days.”
“I’m not here to burn incense or pay respects, as I’ve said….”
“If you have no questions, then please descend carefully. I can offer no further assistance.”
The old man ignored him and shuffled forward.
When the two young Taoists blocked him, he flicked his staff ever so slightly.
They collapsed, vital acupoints sealed, oblivious to how it happened.
Only then did they realize something was off.
The old man hadn’t been visible on the path moments ago—yet suddenly, there he was at the gate.
But their blood was already cooling.
The Kunlun Sect’s buildings were no grand halls.
Humble stone chambers dotted the mountainside, some ramshackle, others a touch finer.
Past the gate, the first structure was Jade Flower Hall, serving as a reception area.
Its master, the Yunhak Zhenren, happened to be tending vividly colored flowers in the front courtyard.
By the solar terms, it was midsummer—but at this high, harsh altitude, green leaves and blossoms of every hue were treasures in themselves, just now coming into brief bloom.
No wonder Yunhak fussed over them all day.
“Pretty things. Gotta scorch my heart before you’re satisfied? Heh heh….”
Smiling at the flowers, Yunhak suddenly turned and spotted the old man ascending past the gate.
Yunhak’s expression hardened.
“What brings you to our sacred halls, elder?”
The old man’s face brightened slightly at the sight of Yunhak barring his path.
“Heh heh… Finally, a Taoist who gets it.”
“What do you mean? And how did you reach here?”
“That’s not important. Guide me, will you?”
“Hah. No matter your age, you can’t just wander Kunlun Sect as you please. Be off with you, down the mountain.”
“They call you Yunhak, yes…? Escort me to that boy. Then I won’t have to shed needless blood, will I?”
“Yunhak… Zhenren. You mean the sect leader, my senior brother?”
“Exactly. I hear Kunlun’s leader is a fellow named Yunjang. I’ve questions for him—and things I want to hear.”
“Needless blood? Did you… harm the gate disciples?”
“They didn’t catch on. They went peacefully—don’t grieve too much.”
In an instant, Yunhak’s demeanor shifted.
Supreme Clarity True Qi surged through him—Kunlun’s signature—his aura sharpening from flower-tender to honed sword.
“You’ve got some training, I see.”
“Reveal yourself. You’re no mere nobody, so I’ll meet you with all I have.”
“Nothing to reveal. I’m U Gyeongcheon. No time for pointless squabbles—escort me to Yunjang, or send word for him to come down.”
Yunhak froze at the name U Gyeongcheon.
“You claim to be that U Gyeongcheon, the cult leader?”
“Hah. You think there’s another impostor bearing my name?”
“Understood. Our Kunlun failed to anticipate such a noble guest; forgive our poor hospitality. Please wait here. This is the reception hall, after all—no grave discourtesy.”
“Good. I’ll sit. Hurry back.”
Yunhak summoned a young boy Taoist from inside Jade Flower Hall.
“Boy. Bring this elder some hot tea. I must visit Supreme Clarity Palace.”
With that, Yunhak soared up the mountainside.
“Heh heh… Cloud Dragon Great Nine Forms. It’s been ages.”
Moments later, the boy brought a neat tray with a teacup.
The old man who called himself U Gyeongcheon sat at a table in the courtyard and sipped deeply.
“Fine tea. What’s your name?”
“The tea is Dragon Well, and this Daoist is Seojong.”
“Good tea, good lad. A kindness from me, since I take a liking to you: head down the mountain now and return tomorrow morning. Things here are about to turn ugly—no place for you.”
“What do you mean? I’m a Kunlun disciple who passed the gate. I cannot obey such an order—withdraw it, please.”
“Heh heh… Splendid. Kunlun’s backbone lives up to its name. Now, I’ve finished—take the cup.”
As the boy approached, the old man’s hand flashed.
The boy crumpled.
From afar came a sharp cry.
It was Yunhak Zhenren.
“What barbarity against the boy?”