Unraveling Threads, Accumulating Doubts
“I hear one of the prizes at this Yongmun Assembly is a sword forged at the Aksan Iron Works.”
“Oh, that Aksan Iron Works in Sichuan?”
“That’s right. And word is Baek Su-gyeong himself will be attending the Yongmun Assembly…”
“Ooooh!”
“On top of that, some high-ranking imperial official is coming too, apparently.”
“Man, the Yongmun folks are in for a headache.”
“What’s there to worry about? We can just listen and let it pass.”
“True enough!”
It had been cold for ages, but people always showed keen interest in gatherings of martial artists. Just as gossips loved to wag their tongues, ordinary folk were endlessly fascinated by clashes between murim warriors.
The Yongmun Assembly, hosted by the Yongmun Family—Luoyang’s preeminent clan—was no exaggeration to call the grandest martial gathering in the region, if not all of Henan Province.
“Speaking of which, I hear the famed White Cat Immortal Wolf from the Bokwoosan area is coming.”
“That disciple of the Heavenly Sword Heroine?”
“Yep! And rumor has it the Shaolin’s Iron Lion is descending in person!”
“What? For real?”
“That’s what they’re saying.”
“Iron Lion? Who’s that? Isn’t he the Incompetent Monk?”
“Don’t you dare call him that anywhere else! If a Shaolin man hears it, you’ll catch hell!”
Stories about Mu-won—even the nickname Incompetent Monk, earned for his lack of interest in martial arts and monkish ways like a layabout—were mixed in.
“They say Huashan’s prodigy, the Cloud Plum Sword, is coming too.”
“One of the Thirteen Prodigies, alongside Qingcheng’s Blue Stream Blade, right?”
“Is it a gathering of the stars?”
“Even those who’ve never shown at the Yongmun Assembly before are appearing. Should be fun.”
Tales of Huashan and Qingcheng prodigies mingled in. Chatter about the current murim’s most famous Thirteen Prodigies popped up now and then.
“For so many to join the Yongmun Assembly—something’s up.”
“Yeah. The Yongmun Family’s known for currying imperial favor, and plenty of murim folk resent that.”
“Tons. Among the Eight Great Clans and Nine Great Sects, how many don’t eye the Yongmuns warily over their palace ties?”
“Yet they’re all sending people this time.”
“Must be because Baek Su-gyeong’s staying in Luoyang~.”
“Has to be. Wouldn’t it be great if we could catch a glimpse of the master too?”
“Even the Dragon in the Clouds is less mysterious than him.”
The chatter among passersby showed no sign of stopping. Plenty of sects and clans grumbled about the Yongmun Family hosting the assembly. Why bother stepping into a tournament run by a house like that? The sentiment had spread. The Yongmuns leaned too heavily toward officialdom in their “observance of martial virtue.”
But this time was different. Not only were late-generation talents from the Nine Great Sects—who’d never participated before—joining, but even the Eight Great Clans, who looked down on the Yongmuns, were sending representatives. That alone ballooned the scale enormously.
Rumors swirled that it might rival the Murim Alliance’s Heavenly Martial Assembly, held every four years, or Huashan’s Grand Martial Huashan Assembly to honor old murim heroes. Need more be said?
“Just a rumor, but they say the daughter of the Mingwang Society Leader is joining the Yongmun Assembly.”
“And Namgung’s Jade Sword Flower young lady too.”
“Whoa, what a feast this winter. Eye candy before the year’s out!”
With famous late-generation prodigies gathering, it meant a feast of spectacles. The Yongmun Assembly was big, sure, but it had been somewhat dismissed by the Nine Great Sects and Eight Great Clans, seen more as a stepping stone for minor sects. But with this year’s lineup, that view was utterly obsolete.
“Even the Tang Clan’s Flame Poison Flower is coming, they say.”
“Not just Tang—even Wudang’s Clear Wind Sword.”
“What? Cheongmyeong Daehyeop for real?”
“Even Zhongnan Sect, who’ve never graced the Yongmun Assembly once, is sending someone.”
“Weird.”
“Baek Su-gyeong’s in Luoyang—probably why.”
“Does that matter?”
To the crowd’s doubts, the man who’d mentioned Baek Su-gyeong puffed out his chest proudly.
“Do you all not know how Wudang Sword Hero is treated by murim warriors?”
“Ah!”
“There’s one reason the Nine Great Sects, Eight Great Clans, and minor sects’ warriors are flocking to the Yongmun Assembly.”
“To seek guidance from Master Baek Su-gyeong?”
“Exactly!”
Baek Su-gyeong would’ve laughed himself silly if he’d heard. Such talk buzzed through Luoyang’s streets.
Namgung So-min was lost in thought, troubled by her doubts about Baek Su-gyeong.
I sense no inner energy or aura from Master. But what he showed at Shaolin surpassed any expert’s presence.
She’d wondered if she’d been too careless when kidnapped by the assassin. But something didn’t fit. He didn’t seem to be hiding anything—the gap between his shown self and that was too vast. Of course, he could be a hermit from the old murim days. An expert so profound she couldn’t detect him?
But if so…
Why would Baek Su-gyeong take up writing instead of martial arts? An unsolvable riddle. High masters were often called eccentric, but that didn’t make it any clearer.
It’s tricky…
If he was concealing his skills, it clashed too much with his everyday demeanor. So was Baek Su-gyeong truly ignorant of martial arts?
Either he has some unavoidable reason not to reveal it, or…
He’d lost his powers and couldn’t cope. The latter made sense; the former wasn’t odd either. If he knew no martial arts, everything clicked. Even if he’d lost them, it fit neatly. It explained his lack of reaction when kidnapped by Hyeon-eum Guest.
O-gong Seonsa’s words resurfaced.
“A master who infuses martial principles into writing…” If so, maybe he lost his skills.
Yet Baek showed no sign of trying to recover them. Perhaps he was weary of the jianghu, of murim’s grudges. Maybe he hadn’t lost them but abandoned them, unwilling to reclaim what he’d cast aside—Namgung So-min pondered.
Even so…
Her duty remained unchanged. Guarding Baek Su-gyeong’s side. Protecting him from harm. That was all.
Thinking back, she’d grasped her sword at others’ whims, dreamless. Her recent talk with Baek had crystallized it: to stay by his side forever.
But to do that, no more rivals…
Baek unwittingly charmed every woman he met, despite his ordinary looks.
No more additions.
Namgung So-min rose, deeming three at his side plenty.
“What the hell am I doing…?”
Gal Ye-ryeong sighed in her quarters. Instead of confronting the Mingwang Society Leader or executing Ya Noe’s plan to legitimize Haomen via Baek Su-gyeong, she’d stalled, just lingering by his side. Frustrating.
The two vixens—now just “vixens” in her mind—and their mind games around Baek made her self-loathing.
Can’t advance the plan like this…
Lifting her head from folded arms, she wondered: If she’d stayed as Haomen’s Left Commander, not the leader’s daughter, would it differ? Unclear. Baek seemed unbothered by the assassins, but who knew? Wudang Sword Hero hinted at subtle enmity toward unorthodox sects, which irked her.
If not for those idiot Dark Assassins.
Her gripe targeted them. Had they just drawn eyes and extracted a contact without targeting Baek, he’d harbor no ill will. She conveniently ignored Haomen as the root cause. Tried to.
Sigh… It all stems from the novel. Like digging my own grave.
Face on arms, she jabbed and rubbed the table with a finger. Unsettled. She recalled the assassin was Hyeon-eum Guest, top of In-sal Guest killers.
That fool botched it and ruined everything.
Dark Assassins boasted elite killers, weak in direct fights but potent otherwise. Only someone like Hyeon-eum Guest could breach Murim Alliance guards for such chaos; a lesser killer couldn’t.
Flawless killers erring means cosmic fortune aids Baek.
A doubt arose.
Why was a clear martial master kidnapped so easily by Hyeon-eum Guest? Did he lose his skills?
Her own guess of him as expert now self-undermined. Born from time with him, intel from Xuchang events.
Like Namgung So-min, she questioned Baek Su-gyeong.
Maybe I was wrong.
His profound martial insight seemed impossible without mastery. But that was prejudice—a murim bias she and Namgung shared.
Whether lost or never known… doesn’t matter much.
Baek himself mattered, not his skills. His presence already shook the jianghu. He’d vaulted Gyeongun Merchant Group skyward, drawn crowds to Shaolin and Wudang. Wherever he went, change followed. Like fates gathering where he stayed.
Thus.
I absolutely can’t let him go.
No thought of losing him to Namgung So-min or So Ssaang-a. Before Haomen, she’d fallen for him unknowingly.
“…Absolutely.”
A breeze from the window stirred Gal Ye-ryeong’s red locks as she vowed.