That Would Be Seongun Inn
After exchanging farewells with Nakhwajeong, Jin Seongun headed straight for the Murim Alliance's Shaanxi branch.
He had asked for the aid of Sama Baek and the rest of the Alliance's members, after all. If they were waiting for him, paying them a visit was simply proper courtesy.
"I wonder if they're still here."
He couldn't speak for the others, but the Chief Strategist of the Murim Alliance was bound to be a busy man. Leaving the Alliance headquarters unattended for over half a month was no small feat.
Jin Seongun resolved that if Sama Baek had already returned to headquarters, he would call on him someday to pay his respects properly.
The distance from Nakhwajeong to the Shaanxi branch was not far at all. With his lightness arts unfurled, it took less than a quarter of an hour.
Ahead, a great main gate came into view, along with a gatekeeper whose sharp bearing left a strong impression.
Hmm.
Jin Seongun did not have particularly fond memories of gatekeepers. He belonged to neither a noble clan nor a sect — he was simply a man who ran an inn, and he had no ready way to prove his identity.
He was picking out what to say as he approached when, remarkably, the gatekeeper's eyes went wide and he spoke first.
"Ah, Guest Dragon, Great Hero! So you've finally awakened. The Chief Strategist has been awaiting you."
"The Chief Strategist is still here? And how is it you recognize me, may I ask?"
By now, the words Guest Dragon had begun to sit fairly comfortably on Jin Seongun's ears.
The gatekeeper broke into a wide grin.
"How could I fail to? The finest elites of the Murim Alliance and the Kunlun Sect crossed these lands escorting a single soul to our Shaanxi branch. Of all my years serving the Alliance, that was the most memorable night of my life."
From the sound of it, Qinghai had possessed nothing but a run-down iron workshop, so the Alliance and Kunlun had gone to the trouble of hauling Jin Seongun all the way to Shaanxi.
Jin Seongun nodded along, then said, "That's a true kindness. Thank you for telling me. Thanks to you, I can greet them properly."
At that, the gatekeeper's eyes widened again before he broke into another knowing smile and answered in a subtly sly tone.
"I'd say the thanks belongs to you, Great Hero. Do go on in."
The main gate of the Murim Alliance's Shaanxi branch swung open with a hearty creak. As Jin Seongun stepped across the threshold, he felt once more that his life was shifting, little by little.
The Murim Alliance's Shaanxi branch was modest in scale compared to headquarters, but it was thickly planted with flowers and trees, lending the grounds a serene air.
Perhaps it's because so many Mount Hua martial artists are stationed here.
It was, of course, purely Jin Seongun's own speculation.
But mention Shaanxi and flowers, and one's mind went straight to the Mount Hua Sect.
As he walked along musing on this, a welcome face appeared.
"Young Hero!"
It was Seok Kang of the Kunlun Sect — the Daoist who had doubted Jin Seongun at their first meeting, whose sect had doubted him as well, and who had, in the end, handed over the sword anyway.
"When did you wake up?"
"Just now."
The deadpan answer wrung an awkward laugh out of Seok Kang.
"And you came straight here? Lady Nakhwa must have been quite put out."
"There was no reason to linger."
Seok Kang nodded. In his estimation, a place packed wall to wall with women was a space no man could endure for long — though that was the standard of the hopeless, hapless Kunlun Daoists.
Soon Seok Kang's expression turned serious.
"Is that why you lied to me back then? You suspected the Qinghai Iron Workshop?"
Seok Kang had come to understand why Jin Seongun had pretended to lose the sword.
His reason for coming to Kunlun in the first place had been to verify the Qinghai Iron Workshop's blade with his own eyes.
And Seok Kang had privately grasped the other reason as well — the one that could not be spoken. He had heard the words the Qinghai Iron Workshop Lord had shrieked in his death throes, after all.
Who could have known Nakhwajeong carried such a story?
The Guest Dragon had undertaken that deed alone, precisely to shield it from the world.
As the thought settled, a fierce, burning admiration rose in Seok Kang's eyes.
"Young Hero."
His tone was grave, almost mournful. Jin Seongun gave a nod, and Seok Kang went on.
"You are a true man of this era."
"...I'll admit I'm not a woman."
Seok Kang burst out laughing and clapped Jin Seongun on the shoulder. His hand stung quite a bit.
Seok Kang simply liked Jin Seongun so boundlessly that anything he said came out sounding fond.
Before long, Seok Kang studied him with his characteristically sharp eyes and said, "Young Hero. Let us be friends."
"Let's do that."
Jin Seongun had no reason to refuse. Seok Kang was a man he had warmed to from their very first meeting until now.
Seok Kang flashed a bright grin and continued. "I may be a bit older, but between wandering martial artists, who goes in order? What does a thing like that matter?"
"I'm not a martial artist, though."
Seok Kang laughed again and smacked his shoulder once more. For all his manly, steely bearing, his laugh was clear and utterly unrestrained.
Jin Seongun regarded him with level eyes.
Little by little, Seok Kang's laughter died away.
"...Well, what then?"
"A waiter."
"Hm?"
"Seongun Inn, in Yichang. The inn I run. And I work there as a waiter."
Seok Kang blinked.
The man who had slain an elder of the Demonic Cult's Sword Demon Heaven just days ago — the Guest Dragon was... a waiter?
Granted, the rumors about the Guest Dragon had always carried whispers of an inn attached to them.
But Qinghai was so far from the heart of the Central Plains that the tales had arrived in wildly varied forms.
That the Guest Dragon was a dining companion at some inn. That he was a rich man who owned several inns. That he drifted from inn to inn without a fixed abode, living as a free spirit... and so on.
Certainly, there had been rumors that he ran an inn, that he worked as a waiter.
But those were the least believed of the lot — the kind that made every listener snort with laughter.
"You're serious?"
"I am."
"What kind of inn is it?"
"Seongun Inn."
"...No, I mean—"
Seok Kang's face went blank with bewilderment. But he was genuinely curious. What manner of place could an inn run by a man like this possibly be?
Jin Seongun thought for a moment, then answered plainly.
"Have you heard of a liquor called Yanghe Daqu?"
It was rare for Jin Seongun to speak with such sly, deliberate subtlety.
Seok Kang nodded again and again.
"Of course. The Kunlun Daoists have lost their minds over the stuff, after all."
"...That Yanghe Daqu can only be tasted in two places under heaven: a small village called Deyang, and Seongun Inn."
He laid weight on the words under heaven.
Seok Kang's eyes gleamed and he let out a cry of admiration.
"Oooh!"
"We also have the finest chef in Hubei, and one with twenty years of experience."
"Oh!!"
"We're due to expand into the largest establishment in all of Yichang."
He left out the part about Elder Shin-ui. Call it a form of modesty.
Amid Seok Kang's ongoing chorus of awe, Jin Seongun added the finishing stroke, like dotting the eye of a painted dragon.
"Seomun Ak, another Young Hero, works beside me as a waiter. And as a regular, we have an elder of the Wudang Sect."
"Uh... hm?"
"That's Seongun Inn."
For once, Jin Seongun's shoulders drew back with real strength. Perhaps because it was his first time traveling this far alone, the thought of Seongun Inn filled his chest with a warm glow.
How strong he was, whom he had killed, what the Five Dragons and Three Phoenixes were up to — none of it meant a thing to Jin Seongun.
The prosperity of Seongun Inn alone was his pride and his greatest pleasure.
"What do you think?"
Jin Seongun asked with a face full of confidence.
To Seok Kang, he looked exactly like a doting parent bragging about their child.
So Seok Kang raised his thumb high and declared, "If ever my path carries me to Hubei, I will visit without fail."
"It will be the finest experience of your life."
"Haha..."
So the Guest Dragon was this kind of man.
Back when they had sparred at Kunlun, Seok Kang had taken him for someone indifferent to all the world's affairs, detached and aloof.
And how deep that stillness ran. Layered atop his staggering martial prowess, it had made him seem endlessly alluring and mysterious.
But seeing this doting-parent side of him gave an entirely different impression.
And in Seok Kang's eyes, at least, the man before him now was far more pleasant to look at — far more charming — than the heavy, unreadable figure of before.
"We'll meet again soon. And I'm sorry I doubted you. Thank you for resolving the matter in Qinghai. Truthfully, I've been waiting here just to say this."
With those words, Seok Kang smiled. He smiled the way a man does who has made laughter his life's virtue — bright, pure, and utterly without guile.
Jin Seongun nodded. To his eye as well, Seok Kang seemed a man of genuinely good character.
For a moment the two of them stood there, each nodding along to the other's very different kind of smile.
Before long, Seok Kang spoke up.
"Well, I suppose my part is done..."
Jin Seongun and Seok Kang turned their heads at the same instant.
In the distance, an old man was shuffling this way and that, clearing his throat with pointed little hm-hms.
Seok Kang lowered his voice to a whisper. "The moment you fall into the Chief Strategist's hands, it's over. The Murim Alliance is a truly joyless place, I tell you. Better to come to my Kunlun, where it's lively every single day—"
"Ahem!"
Sama Baek's cough cut him off cleanly.
Seok Kang shrank into his shoulders, offered a sheepish grin, and melted away.
Then Sama Baek, feigning nonchalance with practiced ease, drew near.
"Ah, Guest Dragon! How is the body faring?"
Jin Seongun studied him for a moment.
Truly a fascinating man. How could someone who was not a martial artist give off such an aura?
It reminded him of meeting Mangeum Manor's Chief Steward at the Hwaun Merchant Group. Those who had reached the summit of their own fields all carried this same bearing, martial prowess or no.
"You're the Chief Strategist, I take it."
"Haha, yes. I am Sama Baek, Chief Strategist of the Murim Alliance."
"I regret the matter of Sama Hui. It's no excuse, but it couldn't be helped."
He wasn't particularly sorry about it.
But he reasoned that regardless of cause and consequence, if the man were his own grandson, his own flesh and blood, he too might come to hate him.
Yet Sama Baek smiled gently and said, "It's right that we speak of that first. I am truly sorry. I failed to raise the boy properly. I knew his heart was twisted, but I never dreamed he'd go so far. Of course..."
Sama Baek paused to let out a single sigh. The mere thought of his grandson never failed to make his chest tighten.
"I know that saying I didn't know solves nothing. But an apology must still be spoken."
Jin Seongun gazed at him steadily for a moment, then answered in his customary even tone.
"There's nothing for the Chief Strategist to apologize for. It wasn't even a threatening formation to begin with."
Sama Baek blinked. It was gratifying that the young man took it so lightly — and yet, that formation ranked among the genuinely dangerous arrays even within the Sama Clan, so the old man's feelings were a touch complicated.
"Children will be children, I suppose."
Jin Seongun said it as if it were nothing at all.
And in truth, he meant it.
Suppose you were walking down the street and a thoughtless child came barreling into you. Say the candied fruit in the child's hand left a stain on your clothes, and the parents apologized over and over in mortified bursts.
Few were the people who would fly into a rage over that.
More likely you'd wave it off with a chuckle — my, what a spirited little one.
And besides, the child was only half...
"Ahem."
Jin Seongun cleared his throat.
Much to the regret of Sama Baek, Sama Hui, and the entire Sama Clan, that formation had been — to Jin Seongun — precisely and exactly that much.
"How is his condition? Sama Hui's."
"They say his life is not in danger. As a martial artist, though, it's the end of the road."
"Hmm."
"It may be for the best. In truth, that boy is better off never learning the martial arts. The Sama Clan may be a martial lineage, but there are a hundred other paths open to him. Even I am not merely a martial artist — I am a strategist first."
"I see."
Jin Seongun nodded.
He himself felt no particular guilt, and the other man clearly held him blameless — the knowledge settled over him like a weight lifted.
"Now then, enough of the boy. Up to here, and no further..."
Sama Baek let the pause stretch for a long moment before he spoke again. Until now he had been the very picture of a kindly neighborhood grandfather; now his voice carried the steely gravity befitting the Chief Strategist of a colossus like the Murim Alliance.
"Tell me. If I asked you to join the Murim Alliance — would you refuse?"
"Yes."
Sama Baek flinched. The answer had come as fast as any master swordsman's strike.
Not that it was entirely unexpected.
"Even were I to offer you a squad captain's post?"
For a man of Jin Seongun's age, squad captain alone would be a scandalously generous appointment.
It was a post that could only be earned by a martial artist of some talent endlessly proving both character and skill for a dozen years — perhaps twenty.
Truthfully, Sama Baek was prepared to go as far as offering Jin Seongun a detachment commander's seat.
But the first rule of negotiation: open below your true offer. Only then would the real proposal, coming next, taste that much sweeter.
Like a martial artist reading his opponent's stance before a duel, Sama Baek had anticipated the man's moves, bracing for the refusal sure to come and readying his tremendous counterstrike — the word detachment commander.
And at the very same moment—
"Even if you offered me the Alliance Leader's seat, I wouldn't come. Sorry to say it so bluntly."
"..."
Sama Baek's mouth closed.