Chapter 90: Xi'an (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 90: Xi'an (2)
In the packed inn, you couldn't even hear an ant move.
It was only natural.
No one here had the nerve to run their mouth after witnessing a disciple of the Hundred Flowers Sect get sent flying, rolling across the floor several times before slamming into a wall.
“S-Senior Brother?!”
“That cowardly bastard!!”
“Senior Brother, Senior Brother!! Wake up!!”
“H-He’s unconscious!!”
The Hundred Flowers Sect disciples rushed toward the fallen Lee Geon in horror.
Up close, Lee Geon’s condition was gruesome. Not only was he unconscious, but blood was gushing from both nostrils, and his nose was clearly broken.
To see the leader of the second-generation disciples taken down so easily made the third-generation disciples swallow dryly without even realizing it.
Of all the times for their other senior brothers to be absent, they had to run into such a vicious demonic leader from the Evil Faction.
Fear seemed to seize their entire bodies.
But that aside, how could they call themselves junior brothers if they didn't avenge their senior?
“Draw your swords!”
For a fleeting moment, the thirst for revenge against the man who had done this to their senior brother, combined with the righteous duty to eliminate a demonic leader, made them forget their fear.
This was the combined attack technique they had all trained in for years. Of course, its depth was shallow compared to their senior brothers', but they resolved and believed that today would be different.
However.
“Hey.”
In that instant, the air grew heavy, like water-logged cotton.
Under the crushing pressure that seemed to weigh down their shoulders, none of the Hundred Flowers disciples surrounding their enemy could bring themselves to draw their swords.
“Draw your sword now, and you die.”
There wasn't a single person here who didn't know that as martial artists of the Orthodox Faction, they shouldn't yield to the threats of a demonic leader from the Evil Faction.
But what the mind knows and what the body does are not always the same.
The legs of the third-generation disciples, all approaching the age of twenty, were trembling pitifully. The burning desire for revenge and righteousness had vanished from their eyes.
Instead, they wore the typical look of the weak, desperate to flee. Among the disciples, who looked as if they might collapse at any moment, a particularly large man stepped forward.
He offered Kang Hyun-woo a polite cupped fist salute.
“This junior martial artist, Jo Jaryang, a third-generation disciple of the Hundred Flowers Sect, greets you, Senior.”
The way he bowed so low his waist nearly folded in half revealed his clear intention to escape the situation by any means necessary.
“My insight was too shallow to recognize you, Senior. I implore you to show your vast generosity just this once and take our circumstances into consideration.”
Everyone in the inn watched the scene with bated breath.
A disciple of the Hundred Flowers Sect acting so humbly? Just who was this man?
A few showed flickers of curiosity at the rare sight, but most kept their heads buried in their tables, trying their best not to make eye contact.
Everyone knew that useless curiosity could shorten one's life. And this was a dispute between martial artists; one wrong move and they could easily lose their lives.
“Ah, so you’re saying you were rude because you didn’t know who I was?”
“...Yes. So if you would show us your generosity this one time, my sect will ensure you are properly compensated.”
Scoffs could be heard from the onlookers who had some connection to the martial world.
A mere third-generation disciple, dropping his sect’s name and promising compensation.
In cases like this, it was usually a lie meant to get them out of a tough spot.
However.
‘Come to think of it, the age of the Hundred Flowers Sect Leader’s youngest son is…’
Occasionally, there were those with enough influence to promise compensation in their sect’s name, despite their low rank.
The Hundred Flowers Sect Leader’s name was Jo Jawon, and he had two sons. And this third-generation disciple’s name was Jo Jaryang?
Only then did those who knew the inner workings of the Hundred Flowers Sect realize the gravity of the situation, but it was far too late.
Thwack!
“You bastards are fucking vicious. So you’re saying you only pick fights with people weaker than you.”
“Keuk?!”
Before they could even flee the inn, Jo Jaryang was sent flying by Kang Hyun-woo’s kick, clutching his stomach and groaning in pain.
The faces of the few who witnessed it were etched with shock.
“J-Jaryang!”
“That bastard!”
“Everyone, get in formation!!”
The other third-generation disciples placed their hands on their sword hilts, ready to draw at any moment.
“S-Stop!”
Jo Jaryang, struggling to his feet as if crawling on the floor, stopped the other disciples.
Unlike the others, whose reason was paralyzed by anger, Jo Jaryang knew that even if they all attacked at once, they wouldn't be able to lay a single finger on him.
In the worst-case scenario, all of their heads could fly.
Those fierce, beast-like eyes, that inhuman killing intent.
This was undoubtedly a great demonic leader from the Evil Faction, one whose name was not yet widely known.
“...My hot-blooded friends have made a momentary mistake. I earnestly ask for your vast generosity.”
It was unclear how many times he planned to ask for generosity, but the onlookers could do nothing but swallow dryly, unable to lift a single finger.
They too had realized it instinctively.
If a massacre occurred here, with this man slaughtering the Hundred Flowers disciples, they would be his next targets.
After all, eliminating unnecessary witnesses would make his escape easier.
“Why should I?”
“...As I said, if you show us generosity just this once, the Hundred Flowers Sect will show its sincere gratitude…”
“Forget it.”
Cutting Jo Jaryang off mid-sentence, Kang Hyun-woo drew Gilenium from his waist.
As the chillingly sharp blade turned towards them, the faces of Jo Jaryang and the other third-generation disciples turned pale.
“Hand over everything you’ve got.”
*
After the commotion, Cheon Yeo-hwa and I immediately left the inn and headed for a nearby clothier's shop.
It wasn't that I was afraid of retaliation. I wouldn't be scared even if dozens of guys like that came at me, and I didn't think I'd lose.
However, the fact that Cheon Yeo-hwa was currently being pursued by the Heavenly Demonic Cult weighed on my mind.
Of course, in an era without cars or airplanes, it was unlikely that a pursuit team had followed her all the way to Shaanxi, so far from the Heavenly Demonic Cult's territory, but letting my guard down was not an option.
Besides, Cheon Yeo-hwa wasn't just any ordinary follower; she was the Second Princess of the cult. The pursuit team wasn't likely to give up on her easily.
In such a situation, I had to avoid causing any unnecessary disturbances that might spread rumors about us in Xi'an.
“Hyun-woo, how is it?”
As I was lost in thought for a moment, the curtain was drawn back, and my eyes met with Cheon Yeo-hwa's, who had changed her clothes.
It was a simple martial arts uniform, a modest blend of white and black, but I couldn't tear my eyes away.
“Wow…”
The fabric itself wasn't very expensive. I had shaken down those Hundred Flowers Sect guys, but all I got were a few copper coins and a single silver piece.
However, the fact that the model was Cheon Yeo-hwa was enough to make the clothier's jaw drop.
“My goodness! For a moment, I thought a celestial maiden had descended from the heavens! Even the Five Flowers, whose fame resounds throughout the vast Central Plains, could never hope to compare to you, my lady!”
If it had been anyone else coming out in that outfit, I would have dismissed it as a typical merchant's flattery.
‘She’s ridiculously beautiful.’
I was glad I had chosen the plainest clothes possible. If I had picked something with more decoration, something more delicate and flowing, rumors about Cheon Yeo-hwa would have spread throughout all of Xi'an.
For the record, we threw away the clothes Cheon Yeo-hwa had been wearing. The fabric itself was of such high quality that even the shop owner was astonished, but after such a rough journey, it was frayed and stained in so many places that it was unwearable.
“You look beautiful.”
“...Isn't your reaction a little too bland?”
Displeased with my overly short reply, Cheon Yeo-hwa’s expression fell slightly. Who in the world would look at this adorable sight and think she was the Second Princess of the Heavenly Demonic Cult?
I pulled her into an embrace as she was kicking aimlessly at the floor and whispered.
“So beautiful that I don't think I'll let you sleep tonight.”
“...”
From an angle where the shop owner couldn't see, I gave Cheon Yeo-hwa's bottom a firm squeeze. I savored the firm, soft feeling even through her uniform.
Cheon Yeo-hwa shot me a rare, flustered glare, but she didn't resist.
“Alright, let’s do this before we leave.”
I took out the veil I had bought earlier. It was an article of clothing that anyone who had ever seen a Wuxia story would recognize.
You could basically think of it as a mask for women in Wuxia. For the record, despite being small enough to only cover the lower half of her face, it was more expensive than the uniform I was wearing.
At first, because of my tight budget, I was going to buy a cheap one, but the merchant said that a cheap veil would only cause a woman trouble in her daily life. So, I had no choice but to empty my pockets and buy a decent one.
My pride wouldn't allow me to be cheap when it came to a woman.
“...Thank you.”
Cheon Yeo-hwa’s smile, the corners of her lips curving up gently, was something I could never get tired of. It was worth spending all my remaining money.
“I bought it because if we go outside, every other man will be staring at your face.”
“Huhu, are you jealous?”
Jealous? Maybe. It could be jealousy, or it could be possessiveness. But one thing was certain: if another man dared to look at Cheon Yeo-hwa, I wanted to gouge his eyes out.
In that respect, it was highly unusual that those guys from the Hundred Flowers Sect or whatever got away with all their limbs intact.
I let it slide when they spoke to my woman, and I even warned them they would die if they drew their swords.
I had already let them off twice, yet that guy Jo Jaryang just kept spouting pathetic excuses, and the others repeatedly showed their hostility toward me.
Honestly, if it weren't for the pursuit team, at least half of them would have been dead by my hand. They'll never know how many times I had to swallow my anger.
“Hyun-woo?”
“...Let’s go.”
I pushed the irritating memories aside. Taking Cheon Yeo-hwa's soft hand, I left the clothier's shop.
The streets of Xi'an were overflowing with merchants selling their wares and people browsing and buying them.
But no matter where I looked, I couldn't see anything that looked like the byproducts of magical beasts.
‘Are there no magical beasts in this world?’
It wasn't that unusual. Even in Wuxia novels from Earth, settings without magical beasts were common.
Still, a world without magical beasts... I couldn't help but feel a little envious.
“Hyun-woo.”
“Hm?”
“...There's something I need to talk to you about. How about we go back to the inn?”
I was about to ask what she wanted to talk about, but I shut my mouth when I saw the somewhat dark expression on her face.
“Alright.”
The way back to the inn wasn't far. It was a location we could reach quickly while doing a bit of window shopping at the market.
After about a twenty-minute walk, we arrived at the inn. I roughly unpacked our things and lay down on the bed as if entrusting my body to it.
The overall condition of the room was average, but the bed was a queen-size I carried with me as a spare, so it was perfectly comfortable and soft.
It was the same model as the bed I had used with Iris when we first had sex in the cave.
“So? What did you want to talk about?”
Even after we returned to the inn, Cheon Yeo-hwa was fidgeting nervously in the corner. Her uncharacteristic behavior was starting to make me a little tense.
What on earth did she want to talk about?
Even when I patted the bed, Cheon Yeo-hwa didn't come closer.
“...Hyun-woo.”
It was Cheon Yeo-hwa who broke the heavy silence.
However, she only said my name, biting her lip several times, unable to easily get the next words out.
Unable to watch her struggle any longer, I started to get up and walk toward her, but she took a step back.
I was momentarily shocked by her reaction.
“...Let's part ways here.”
An even greater shock struck me, as if someone had clubbed me over the back of the head.