Chapter 142
Chapter 142
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 142
Chapter Title: Thieves of the Way (1)
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The travel pass that Do Jung-gwang had given us proved more useful than expected.
That made sense, though.
The official roads in southern Shanxi Province—leading toward Henan or Shaanxi—wound around considerably due to the tributaries of the Yellow River and the surrounding mountains.
"Clear away the barricades!"
Normally, that would have meant wasting a ton of time on the road.
"Seeing you've got a pass stamped with the Green Forest Stronghold's mark, you must be brothers from out of town!"
Just flashing it made the bandits clear the path for us.
No need to stick to the official roads—we could cut straight through, saving a lot of time.
'And skipping the tolls was just a nice bonus.'
The fellow students posing as escorts from the Namgon Escort Agency chimed in one by one about the pass's effectiveness.
Jeonggal Seol-ji, who had gone first to the bandits blocking the pass, let out a sigh.
"Whew. Was it really this easy?"
Cheon Jang-ho, holding the reins of the rear carriage, joked around.
"It wasn't easy—it was just Yong-un hyung being who he is. First time I've ever seen someone squeeze money out of bandits without a fight, and this pass? It's like an iron certificate of immunity up in the mountains. Hey, friend, you think so too, right?"
Yong-myeong was munching on porridge beside him, nodding along.
"Couldn't agree more. He's my brother and all, but the more I learn about him, the more..."
Sorung poked his head out the window of the carriage I was driving and asked inside.
"Jeong-hyeon dojang? What's an iron certificate of immunity?"
Jeong-hyeon pondered for a moment before replying.
"Think of it as a token the emperor bestows on meritorious subjects, granting them immunity from punishment. We're using one from the King of the Greenwood ourselves, so it's similar... but hearing the bandits call us 'brothers' feels a bit off."
It was a slip of the tongue, but Jeong-hyeon's words carried his doubts about allying with the unorthodox sects.
'I get where he's coming from.'
Considering Jeong-hyeon's true nature and that he hadn't been there for my bold talk with Do Jung-gwang, it was a natural worry.
'But if I let this misunderstanding fester, he might block my path at a critical moment.'
I spoke up immediately.
"We're not the Greenwood King's lackeys. If anything, he's the one who bowed to us."
"Is that so?"
I relayed part of what had been discussed during our meeting.
"Yeah. He mentioned a handful of bandits had been swept up by some fate and dragged into the mountains. He asked us to investigate the bizarre phenomenon you saw in Jinseong Fortress. This pass stems from that request."
"...!"
"...What? Find another path already?"
"When we first arrived at the stronghold and settled in, the bandits hurled insults at us, but I couldn't bring myself to act right away amid all my thoughts. Yet in that situation, Young Master Eon jumped straight into action, and now here you are, generously interpreting the meaning of righteousness... Suddenly, my own path feels so narrow-minded..."
No need to hear more.
I closed the carriage window and got us moving again.
"They've cleared the barricades. Sorung, go tell Cheon Jang-ho we're heading out—quit fussing and grab the reins. Relay the same to the professor in the cargo hold."
"Yes, hyung!"
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ Thanks to the Greenwood King's pass, we arrived in Taiyuan much faster than anticipated.
"Whoa! Whoa!"
Gazing at the carriages and crowds flowing in and out of Taiyuan's walls—known as Peng City—my master at my waist chimed in.
- Taiyuan's as bustling with travelers as ever, past or present.
'It has salt, coal, and money—same as always.'
Shanxi was dotted with massive salt lakes, earning it the title of the interior's salt warehouse.
It was also the main source of coal that the people of the Central Plains had burned since the Song Dynasty.
Taiyuan was where the wealth accumulated—shielded by salt and coal, armed with the fame and credit of Shanxi merchants handed down from antiquity—came together.
Hence the endless traffic.
- But something feels off, a bit chaotic.
'Those fancy carriages and silk-robed folks seem to be here for my great-uncle Shanxi Golden Peng's birthday, but even without them, yeah, it's disorderly.'
I'd only read about it, never been to Taiyuan before.
But anyone could see the chaos in the scene.
Weirdos in bizarre getups were everywhere.
'Fake Taoists reeking of cults at first glance.'
Drunken monks with booze boils on their noses.
People with gold-painted faces carrying ceremonial crescent blades on their backs, or hauling massive, grotesque animal-head masks fit for lion dances.
Nosam, stepping down from the baggage cart just then, summed up the mess in one word.
"Total shitshow."
As my brow furrowed, pondering the cause,
'In the original story, it was just described as a bit busier than usual for Shanxi Golden Peng's birthday.'
Nosam turned to me.
"What now? Reveal you two brothers' identities or contact the Beggar Clan’s Shanxi branch—you could get in quick. Better go sweep out these riffraff."
"Gotta deal with the riffraff, sure. But charging in noisily at the gate? Even if they try something, it'll backfire. If I may, slipping in quietly seems smarter than rushing."
Jeonggal Seol-ji added her thoughts.
"I agree with Yong-un-nim. Judging by the inspection lines and carriages ahead, we're looking at half a day’s wait. Since we're borrowing the escort agency's name, might as well wait it out, scout Taiyuan discreetly, then head to your maternal clan or the Beggar Clan branch."
"Makes sense. I got ahead of myself there."
Nosam accepted our view.
We entered Taiyuan quietly,
Grabbed any inn, and stabled the carriages.
"Professor takes the north gate, Jeonggal and Sorung the east, Jeong-hyeon and Cheon Jang-ho the west, Yong-myeong and I the south."
Using intel from that bandit Eoksam, we split up and patrolled alleys for houses marked with flame symbols.
"Looked with eyes wide open—no flame marks north gate. You lot find anything?"
Amid the influx of oddballs peddling every left-path sect under the sun, symbols and talismans plastered everywhere, we couldn't spot our target.
"Nothing at the west gate."
"You sure you checked? Jeong-hyeon, Jang-ho's got shit focus. If you split up, he probably skimmed."
"Not this time! I was thorough!"
"Cheon so-hyeop's right. We double- and triple-checked—no way we missed it."
"Alright. Jeonggal and Wu?"
"Nothing east."
"Yeah, like Sorung said."
"Eon lads? South gate empty too?"
To Nosam's question, I replied.
"Yes. No symbols."
"Tch. Now what? Hm? Yong-myeong, why the long face?"
We hadn't found the mark, but it wasn't a total bust.
I spoke for Yong-myeong, sharing what I'd gleaned from discreet inquiries.
"I'll explain. Nowhere had the symbol, so I asked around carefully. Heard that Shanxi Golden Peng—my great-uncle—is unwell."
Calling his illness "news" wasn't just because I, as a possessor, felt no grandfatherly bond.
'Original Shanxi Golden Peng was healthy at this point.'
I remembered him testing Yong-myeong and Jeong-hyeon's potential with ease.
'Died right before the Autumn Tournament, pulling Yong-myeong and Paeng So-cheon from the roster. Yunmaegwan, where Jeong-hyeon was, nearly collapsed—I recall it clearly.'
Back then, I lamented key players dropping out pre-tournament. Now in this world, it seemed the Demonic Cult was behind it.
'Timing's pulled forward, probably.'
As the volunteer squad murmured "Oh no" or "Regrettable" and Yong-myeong sulked, I spoke up.
"The great-uncle I know wouldn't fall to sudden old age."
Yong-myeong jumped in first.
"Now that you mention it, yeah. Last year, the family was busy with hyung's stuff..."
"It's fine. Go on."
"...Yes. Family was preoccupied. Last saw him two years ago myself. Mom's recent letter said he's still spry enough to personally train the lowliest servants. Too sudden."
Nosam shifted gears.
"Then let's hit the Beggar Clan's Shanxi branch. Those guys know everything. Me and the branch head don't get along, but since I dragged Jang-ho here cleaned up, sweet-talk him right and he'll spill what we need."
◇◇◇◆◇◇◇ At the Beggar Clan's Shanxi branch, there was a brief spat between Professor Nosam and branch head Deok-geun.
Unlike facing Professor Chang-ryang at the academy, Nosam brushed off the branch head's barbs and, with Jang-ho watching, suggested no fighting.
He gave us the rundown.
"...That's the situation. In short, Elder Shanxi Golden Peng is indeed ill, and his sons are now jockeying for succession."
"Hm. I see."
Of course, a warning came too.
"Yes. Pick the wrong side, and you're done. It's an official academy event, so no snubs, but you'll likely get invites to tomorrow's banquet for the elders and students. I'll be invited too and watch your backs, but Nosam Elder—please rein in that filthy temper and stay quiet. Don't fuck with our beggar rice bowl. You lot too—keep it in mind."
After hearing the scoop and warnings from the branch head, we donned academy white robes the next morning, packed light satchels, and headed straight for the Yi manor.
At the Yi manor's grand gates—palace-like in scale—crowds already swarmed with birthday and recovery gifts for Taiyuan Golden Peng (read: bribes for the next heir).
This time, no waiting—we went right to the main gate.
"Hey! Halt! White robes! Wait your tu—"
A servant spotted Yong-myeong and gaped.
"...rn't you Young Masters Yong-un and Yong-myeong?! Long time no see! Especially Yong-un—how many years?! My bad, my bad! Come in!"
Inside the Yi manor,
"Hey! Madam Yeongyeong's sons are here! Notify the young manor lord, Je-se-dang lord, and An-min-dang lord! The young masters should wait here—their uncles will come. Academy guests, follow me. We have protocols—I'll guide you to the guest quarters first, then escort you to the family elders per rules."
Some servants beamed and welcomed us warmly, like the first one.
Others scowled like they'd eaten shit.
The biological big uncle of this body—Yi's representative sourpuss—was among the latter.
"Greetings, Big Uncle."
Big Uncle.
This was Yi Jung-yeong, top heir apparent if Shanxi Golden Peng kicked it.
"...Greetings, Big Uncle."
"Tch. No need for pleasantries—we barely keep in touch. Yeongyeong took her fat dowry from Father and left; now exploiting the crisis to meddle? Tch. I sent word not to bother. Hm? Or is it that Eon husband of yours scheming?"
Even now, thinking we're here for inheritance?
'Already treating Grandpa as good as dead, huh.'
Parcheon's swordsmanship itched for many reasons.
Glancing aside, Yong-myeong looked Eon Family Fist-ready too.
I sent him a transmission.
[Endure. See Great-uncle first. If my guess is right, we'll settle scores soon.]
[...Yes, hyung. You've endured worse—can't I handle this?]
No endurance needed, but whatever.
We followed Big Uncle to the majestic hall in the rear garden—the manor's largest space.
"Park weapons over here."
- Guy's acting like he's just waiting for his father-in-law to die?
'Yeah. But we should comply here.'
- Fine, go ahead.
Per Yi Jung-yeong's order to leave weapons, I parked Master and entered the hall.
"Father, it's your son Jung-yeong. Yeongyeong's two boys are here."
There sat an old man—withered like a dying tree, barely clinging to life. "Shanxi Golden Peng" didn't fit; "dried-up stump" did.
'That's Shanxi Golden Peng, Yi Gil-hwan.'
The moment I saw him,
A clear thought flashed.
'That's a curse, right?'