The Fox and the Daoist’s Misunderstanding
Turn the course to north-northwest.
“I’m telling you, the world really is a dangerous place these days.”
Cheong stomped hard on the back of the rat-faced man. “S-Spare me! Please, spare me!”
She was just about to drive Wolgwang-geom (No. 6) into him when Monk Seungsu urgently stopped her.
“Hold on, young immortal! No matter what, shouldn’t you show some mercy?”
“Huh? Why? The only way this trash can help the world is by becoming fertilizer.”
“This is all for your sake, young immortal. It’s not good for one who walks the Dao to accumulate too much killing.”
Cheong waved her hand dismissively. “Oh, I’m totally fine with it.”
She jabbed the rat-faced man precisely in the back of the neck. The old Daoist from Wudang gave a bitter smile at her frighteningly skilled technique.
Cheong flicked her sword once to shake off the blood, then smoothly sheathed it. She had practiced the motion a lot during her free time.
“By the way, sir, why did I get beaten up? I even coughed up a whole bowl of blood. And that friend of yours didn’t even apologize.”
“Hehe, Yuk-ah.”
“Master! It’s not that! I really saw it clearly with my own two eyes! I saw it! There was this incredibly sinister aura pouring out of her eyes! I swear on Master’s honor that not a single word is false!”
Hwan Yuk jumped up and down in agitation. This was one of the most powerful oaths a martial artist of the Murim could make. ‘I swear on my sect’ or ‘I swear on my master’ carried far more weight than modern people swearing on their mothers. Because if you lied while invoking your sect or master, you would be expelled for the crime of deceiving your own lineage. Once you were cast out with a single decree of expulsion, a martial artist’s life was over. It was far heavier than the modern attitude of ‘I’ll just commit one act of filial impiety. Sorry, Mom!’ and moving on.
“Hehe, Yuk-ah. What should I do with this boy…”
“It’s the truth! Don’t be fooled! She’s definitely some kind of monster!”
“Yuk-ah, where in this world would you find monsters? How can someone who claims to cultivate the Dao speak and act like a charlatan?”
Huh? Charlatan?
Cheong tilted her head. Wasn’t “charlatan” an English word? In truth, the term was a classical Chinese word from Confucius meaning something similar but not identical—roughly, a fake or imitation.
While Cheong was wondering about this, Hwan Yuk, burning with injustice, continued to spit fire.
“Master! In the Three Thousand Worlds there are the Three Venerables, the Six Imperial Lords, and the Eight Immortals! So of course there are also sinister monsters! Why wouldn’t there be!”
“You foolish, blind pup…”
Monk Seungsu’s beard bristled. Hwan Yuk was more excited than usual and failed to read the room.
“Why did you used to say that things like ginger corpses were nothing but made-up stories from the Classic of Mountains and Seas! And what happened? Wasn’t I right? The thing under Dongting Lake was a ginger—”
“You wretch! It seems I must take up the switch and beat some sense into that reckless mind of yours!”
“Hup.”
A secret of the Murim had slipped out of Hwan Yuk’s feather-light mouth. But Cheong didn’t know about it anyway. Ginger corpse? Weren’t Jiangshi those hopping corpses that moved in neat rows? But if a Jiangshi was alive, wouldn’t that mean it wasn’t a Jiangshi anymore? Whatever. There must be such a thing. She decided not to worry about it.
Cheong brought up the main topic. “Sir? Anyway, it doesn’t look like he has any intention of apologizing either.”
“I am truly sorry toward the young immortal.”
Monk Seungsu spoke with an embarrassed expression. Cheong smiled to show it was fine and answered.
“In that case, how about we do one good deed together before we part ways?”
Cheong roughly explained the situation. A child was being targeted, but they only needed to reach Wushan. However, it seemed these kinds of thugs would keep attacking them along the way. Since Monk Seungsu had also heard the rat-faced man mention kidnapping before he died, he readily nodded in agreement.
The destination was Mt. Wu Goddess Sect, so it wasn’t even a detour. At most, it would only take three or four extra days. Besides, if the destination was the Goddess Sect… Even though it was a mysterious sect belonging to the outer world, it was still a legitimate Daoist order. Between Daoist sects, there was a distant-cousin kind of relationship. There was a sense of kinship that worked even without knowing each other personally.
And Hwan Yuk really did get the switch. It was discipline that focused more on shame than pain. Perhaps because of that, the master’s switch had surprisingly no effect at all!
“You monster, I finally understand your true identity.”
“My identity? How interesting.”
“Monster! You are none other than the nine-tailed fox that once seduced the King of Zhou and dyed a thousand years in blood. You must be the Nine-Tailed Fox. You may have bewitched my master, but it won’t work on me.”
“What is this crazy bastard saying?”
“How truly horrifying. A monster wearing human skin and imitating our ways. I clearly saw with my own two eyes the endless murderous intent pouring endlessly from those sinister eyes of yours.”
It seemed he was still very upset about being whipped in front of people in broad daylight. Cheong let out a small laugh and raised her voice.
“Sir! This guy is throwing another tantrum!”
“This reckless fool still hasn’t come to his senses…!”
“Master! I am wronged! That fox…!”
“Fine. Even if I have to break every branch on this mountain today, I will cure you of your delusions.”
“Aaaagh! You monster! I won’t forget this grudge!”
Hwan Yuk shouted as he was dragged away. In truth, he had a point. Hwan Yuk had seen correctly. But a person cannot see their own appearance, so Cheong herself had no idea what kind of state she was in. Moreover, the Central Plains didn’t have mirrors like the modern world. Bronze mirrors were cheap but difficult to maintain and didn’t reflect clearly, while silver mirrors coated with silver or mercury—even palm-sized ones—were treasures worth trading gold for. Cheong was a wanderer and far removed from such treasures. She rarely ever saw her full reflection. So she simply thought, He must be a bit lacking for a Daoist.
On the other hand, the sight of a white-haired old Daoist beating his grown disciple’s calves was a rare amusement for the Wudang Daoists. Not wanting to miss it, the Daoists all rushed out after them. Only then did Cheong ask Yang Sowol.
“That mother over there. Do you happen to know something called the Hao Clan?”
“The… Hao Clan, you say?”
“The rat-faced guy said he was from the Hao Clan. I don’t really know them. Are they famous?”
“Well…”
Yang Sowol hesitated before answering. “I’m afraid I don’t know much about them either. I apologize for not being of help to my benefactor.”
“No, no. There are so many ‘something-something sects’ and ‘something-something clans’ all over the world. There’s no way you’d know them all.”
Still, it did bother her a little. It was her first time meeting someone who used bombs. Wait, why were there bombs in a wuxia world? Was this even accurate? At this rate, cannons and guns might start appearing too. At the time her eyes had rolled back and she hadn’t been thinking straight, but now that she thought about it again, it had been a truly terrifying situation. Moreover, from her experience beating up various villains, she could tell there was something slightly different about the way he had thrown out his background. Confidence? Or maybe pride?
Cheong scratched her head vigorously. It seemed her body was comfortable enough for random thoughts to creep in.
The journey with the Wudang Daoists was comfortable. There were two more ambushes, but each time the Daoists swarmed out and the situation was resolved before Cheong could even do anything. Strangely enough, she hadn’t felt the urge to shed blood lately either. So she just watched comfortably from the sidelines.
For some reason, the middle school girl act felt awkward. It was as if there was a strange sense of distance. She wondered if she had made some mistake, but she couldn’t figure it out. In that ordinary manner, they drew closer to Wushan.
When they were about four days away from Wushan, a group blocked their path.
At first, Cheong didn’t pay them much attention. There was no way the people targeting Jin Jangmyeong would openly guard the road, and judging by their karma, they didn’t seem like bad people anyway.
Among them, a clean-looking young man stepped forward to block the path. His karma was 62. Considering how high Monk Seungsu’s was, this young man still ranked among the top three people Cheong had seen so far. Monk Seungsu, the young master from the Xiao Clan, and this young man. As long as one’s evil karma didn’t exceed three digits, it meant they hadn’t done anything particularly wicked. So Cheong relaxed.
“You must be the righteous experts of Wudang. Are you perhaps Monk Seungsu?”
“Oh, you know me?”
“I am called Yang Chaemu of the Yang Clan.”
“Oh! You are the son of the great hero Yang Wijeok! The last time I saw you was when you were about four years old. Your face hasn’t changed at all. How impressive that you remember this old man!”
From what Cheong could tell, it seemed the young man had recognized his father’s friend and was greeting him. Perhaps because of that, Monk Seungsu also smiled warmly.
“Yes, yes. How is the great hero? No, I heard he entered closed-door training. Is he still in cultivation?”
Yang Chaemu’s expression darkened. “Actually, my father did not enter closed-door training.”
“Then what happened?”
“He fought the Cannibal Demon Army and suffered severe injuries.”
“What! So, how is his condition?”
“His life was in danger, but fortunately there has been great improvement and he recently regained consciousness.”
“Oh dear, thank goodness. We nearly lost one of the pillars of the righteous path.”
Monk Seungsu patted his chest in relief. Then, with a tone full of regret, he continued.
“Why didn’t you send any news? If the Changashin Hero was in critical condition, our sect leader would not have hesitated to offer the Jaso-dan.”
“It was because he was struck by a vicious demonic art. The divine doctor said that spiritual medicine would instead act as poison.”
“The divine doctor examined him? What a blessing! What a blessing indeed!”
“However, the divine doctor said that his Origin Core was damaged by the Flame Demon Art.”
“The Flame Demon Art! How could that accursed demonic art—!”
Flame Demon Art! At that name, the Wudang Daoists murmured in shock. Cheong, who had no idea what it was, simply listened. She couldn’t exactly butt in and ask why they were talking about something only they knew. But what exactly was the Flame Demon Art? Did it shoot fire from the hands? That actually sounded… kind of cool. Come to think of it, there was also the Mount Hua Sect. Even Cheong, who knew nothing about wuxia, had heard that name. Flame Demon Art, huh. Since lava beats fire, maybe Mount Hua was stronger?
While Cheong was lost in thought, the conversation continued.
“His Origin Core is damaged? Spiritual medicine doesn’t work? Heavens, then what can be done? Is there a method?”
Upon hearing that his close friend was in critical condition, Monk Seungsu pressed on with a sorrowful expression.
“…There is a method, but…”
“Oh! So there is one! That’s fortunate! What is it? Is there anything I can do to help!”
“That treatment method is said to be the only one in the world…”
Yang Chaemu trailed off and looked in their direction. To be precise, he was looking at Jin Jangmyeong standing beside Cheong.
Wait. Something feels very, very wrong here.
Cheong felt a deep sense of foreboding.