Chapter 137
Chapter 137
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 137
Chapter Title: Unexpected Invitation (1)
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With the farewell of the Cheongjuk Hall students behind us, I, Jeong-hyeon, and Woo So-rung each lightly washed up and began changing into the travel clothes prepared by the academy.
They weren't anything fancy, these travel clothes.
They were cheap cotton uniforms dyed with easily obtainable brown dye, with the words South Kun Escort Agency embroidered on the back.
'Undercover clothes to hide our identities. Can't be too flashy.'
This undercover attire was one of the Righteous Martial Academy's measures to ensure safety during this Shanxi province relief effort.
The academy's faculty and students who had enemies, as well as the locals and their families who depended on the academy for their livelihoods.
It was impossible to seal all their mouths, so perfect security was out of the question from the start.
'So, they're disguising us as an escort caravan—a slight variation to throw off any trackers.'
The uniforms had a lived-in feel, and even incorporating a place name from far-off Guangdong province showed how much thought the committee professors had put into it.
Anyway, as we were changing clothes bit by bit.
So-rung, who finished changing first, spoke up.
"Hyung-nim Eon? Jeong-hyeon Dojang? How do I look? Back when I took the entrance exam, my dream was just to graduate from the Righteous Martial Academy and live a stable life working for some escort agency like this. Does it suit me?"
An escort being one of the jobs in the martial world you shouldn't pick lightly, and calling it stable?
'Clients... no, patrons here, I guess? Anyway, catering to their whims, then dealing with bandits trying to shake you down for tolls.'
And if things go south, you end up fighting for your life?
'...Well, compared to So-rung's family business, maybe it is stable?'
A Righteous Martial Academy graduate—even dead last—could join a mid-sized agency as an escort head.
Steady paycheck and all.
'Wandering around, sure, but at least you have a home base to return to?'
Wait a second.
But if we let So-rung handle an escort cargo run, he'd probably ditch it and run at the first sign of trouble.
As I rubbed my chin lost in thought.
So-rung beat me to it, looking dejected.
"Do I look too green?"
"No. You actually pull it off pretty well."
Not empty flattery to boost the kid's spirits.
"You look a bit green, sure. But every escort caravan has at least one newbie tagging along."
So So-rung's disguise was actually quite convincing.
The real issue was Jeong-hyeon.
"The problem isn't So-rung—it's you, Jeong-hyeon."
"...Me? What did I do?"
"Yeah. You're in disguise, so why are you wearing a hero's turban with the Taiji emblem? And that knot next to it is way too neat. What escort ties his clothes that perfectly? Looks like you hate the idea of getting your hands dirty."
"Ah. Force of habit."
"Ditch the hero's turban right now and use this instead. And loosen up those clothing knots—make 'em sloppy."
"Yes, sir!"
"And..."
"Did I mess up something else? Tell me. The ancient sages said not to be ashamed when someone points out your flaws. I'll fix it. Is there another piece of clothing I wore wrong? Speak freely."
Yeah.
Oh yeah.
"Not the clothes exactly... Sniff. Your posture's off?"
"...Pardon?"
"Too straight. Slouch a bit."
At my words, a voice piped up from my waist—my master's.
- Calling good posture a spine problem... My disciple's got such a classy way with words.
"...L-like this?"
Jeong-hyeon awkwardly slouched.
'Zhuge Seolji was supposed to play the cargo role, but we might need to switch.'
No matter how I looked at it, this wasn't a Guangdong native escort slouching—it was Jeong-hyeon with a dislocated hip.
"We need to swap roles. ...Last time, your build matched Nangong Yun's pretty well, Jeong-hyeon. So-rung."
"Yes, Hyung-nim."
"Go grab Dang Ok-gi from the lab right now, head to Hyangran Hall, and get two or three of the jinxed-looking outfits Nangong Yun has."
Woo So-rung tilted his head.
"But will Nangong-hyung give us his clothes?"
"You've got history with him—trained together in chemical warfare and all. He won't stiff you. Mention how we gave him clothes when his got ruined by that wild boar, and he'll hand them over easy."
"...Yeah, but weren't those sold to him, not given?"
"Same difference."
"Ah, right. Same thing."
"Exactly."
"Got it! I'll be right back!"
I ignored my master muttering about black-hearted merchants.
Told Jeong-hyeon to change once So-rung brought the clothes.
Then headed to the academy's west gate—our rally point—to report the change and make adjustments.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The Righteous Martial Academy's west gate was normally just for incoming supplies and outgoing trash.
Unless you were admin staff or security, neither faculty nor students went near it.
But today, Professor No Sam—disguised as escort head—was leading Cheon Jang-ho and Eon Yong-myeong as escorts.
And the cargo: Zhuge Seolji, dressed as the protected merchant, standing apart from two carriages flying the South Kun Escort Agency banner.
The moment we spotted them.
"...Huh?"
- ...Huh?
Everyone from the Heaven-Splitting Sword Sect gaped.
Not for any other reason.
Professor No Sam and Cheon Jang-ho had bathed and tied their hair up neatly for their roles as head and escort.
- ...The beggar punks cleaned up nice?
Students had basic hygiene rules, so Cheon Jang-ho at least washed his hair—'face looks cleaner' level.
But Professor No Sam always looked like a total bum, so it was straight-up 'who's this guy?'
- But... doesn't he look kinda doggish?
'...Pfft. No calling a person dog-like. Master, that's too harsh.'
- Not cursing. Literally a dog. Like a Chow Chow, right? Am I the only one?
Chow Chow—called Songsa-gyeon back then.
Hearing it, yeah, kinda.
No Sam's wild mane and beard had a lion-like ferocity before.
But cleaned up, he looked more like a Chow or bulldog, honestly.
'...Can't laugh.'
I bit my lip to stifle it and shot a reproachful transmission to my master.
'Thrs mrstr sshld trn on yr blnkr lght whn sayng stff lyk tht.'
- I told you to use your blinker when saying crap like that? Yeah, but you never taught me what a blinker even is.
No Sam scratched his neck at my expression.
"Funny, huh? Go ahead and laugh. Zhuge Seolji and Yong-myeong already did."
He punctuated by kicking Cheon Jang-ho's butt.
"This punk laughed the loudest!"
"Ow! How could I not?!"
It was hilarious, and holding it in made tears well up.
"Pfft."
No Sam deflated fast at the sight.
"...Even you, Eon punk."
But I was a man who turned crises into opportunities.
"These are tears of emotion, Professor."
"S-suddenly?"
"You're the next head of the O-ui faction, upholders of beggars' true calling. I'm moved that you'd set aside your convictions to safely lead your students."
- ...That mouth's definitely at Flower Realm. Or beyond.
My master grumbled something from my waist.
No Sam, embarrassed, kicked Cheon Jang-ho harder and faster.
"Take a good look. Take a good look."
"Ow! Aack!"
Anyway.
In that chaos, I suggested swapping Jeong-hyeon and Zhuge Seolji's roles.
No Sam nodded and checked with Seolji.
"Fair enough. Jeong-hyeon's stiff as a board. What do you think, Zhuge kid?"
"I'm fine with it. I've always wanted to try what the escorts or caravan guards do. Follow Young Master Yong-un's lead. Professor, you decide, and I'll change clothes. Won't take long."
"Then it's settled!"
"I already told them to."
"Smart move!"
Minor hiccups aside, we sorted it cleanly.
"Hyah!"
The carriages carrying our disguised escort caravan headed north.
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ The two carriages sped us across Hubei province in no time.
On Henan province's highways, we made great time—smooth sailing north.
'No worries in Henan.'
Couldn't be helped.
The Murim Alliance—consensus body of the orthodox martial world, even if less prominent than in other tales.
The Beggars' Sect main branch, commanding 100,000 beggars.
Shaolin Temple on Mount Song, the North Star of the orthodox world.
The recent assassin attack had bruised the pride of these three pillars upholding Henan orthodoxy at once, so eyes were everywhere.
'Flip side: everyone's laying low.'
Bandits collecting "tolls" under pretexts, merchants trying to gouge caravans, villages eyeing passersby for a cut.
All dialing it back.
'Silver lining?'
Anyway.
We crossed Henan without incident.
So uneventful, in fact.
At my suggestion, I, Yong-myeong, and Zhuge Seolji—who couldn't drive—took turns learning on the job. That was the biggest "event."
But the leisurely pace lasted only to Henan.
We loaded the carriages onto a boat at Mengjin Harbor north of Luoyang, crossed the muddy Yellow River fine.
Once we hit Shanxi past the river.
Troublemakers started nitpicking, bandit dens throwing tantrums over tolls.
Zhuge Seolji—who'd aced the guard role in Henan—started raising her voice.
"Here's one tael of silver."
"Not enough. Road collapsed over there—clearing the dirt costs labor. Fare's up, make it four taels."
"Have you lost your minds? I offered one generously since you kept haggling, and now four? This is straight-up robbery—"
"What? Lost our minds? And you just said 'daylight robbery'?! Hah! This bitch doesn't fear the forests?"
Couldn't just watch the absurdity, so I spoke up unbidden.
"You punks don't know how scary our caravan boss really is."
So-rung chimed in beside me.
"It is robbery! Even black path has its code! Comparing them to real thieves is an insult!"
As the others nodded.
Cheon Jang-ho, holding the rear cargo reins, yawned and spoke.
"Yaaawn!!!! But our... er, caravan boss is a total armchair expert, huh? Took forever haggling at yesterday's den just to pass. Today's even worse. We'll be here till dusk! The veteran boss handling Murim Alliance business wrapped it up like flowing water... Oops, think she caught my eye just now. Coincidence? Hear me?"
"Probably."
"Gasp. Hyung-nim Yong-un. What now?"
Why ask me?
Cheon Jang-ho wasn't entirely wrong.
Zhuge Seolji lacked rivers-and-lakes experience, so her handling was green.
But this felt off.
'One tael covers their road excuse plenty for a toll.'
Looking back, they seemed to bait her till she snapped, then pounce.
'And not even about money.'
I turned to Professor No Sam.
"Something's fishy, Escort Head."
"You see it too?"
"Yes."
"Refuse the toast, get the forfeit. Time to shove it down their yellow throats."
That was when.
As No Sam rolled up his sleeves.
Dust rose beyond their log barricade. Several riders galloped up.
A burly middle-aged man with a scruffy chin-beard barked at us.
"Mad Wind Mad Dog. Long time no see? Or should I say Subdued Wind Gentle Dog now?"
Hm.
Few in the black path—bandits especially—could address No Sam like that.