Chapter 88
Chapter 88
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 88
Chapter Title: Obituary
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Heuk Do-san, who had left Tongmango Fortress, crossed the desert straightaway and finally entered Shaanxi Province.
When he first set foot on Shaanxi soil, he considered heading south directly to bypass into Sichuan Province. The Tang family estate in Sichuan was no more than a thousand li away at most—a distance he could cover in just ten days on a swift horse.
But in the end, he put it off for another day. As long as he was alive, he could meet her anytime.
Instead, he set his course east and headed straight for Shandong Province, where his master and senior brothers were.
On his way to Shandong, Heuk Do-san encountered no small number of people, but regrettably, few among them were murim folk. He did occasionally run into swaggering types with swords at their waists.
But upon closer inspection, most turned out to be sword-for-hire thugs from nearby pleasure quarters or street toughs. They weren't true murim dwellers, and thus knew little of the real events unfolding in the jianghu.
Yet as the saying goes, an empty cart rattles loudest. Through their boastful chatter, he gleaned no small amount of surface-level news.
To sum it up in a word: the Righteous Alliance had risen to supremacy, and even after the war's end, the murim world remained in turmoil.
The jianghu is a place where power clashes endlessly against power. The death of one tiger doesn't bring peace to the mountains.
And yet, people always hoist the banners of murim peace and tranquility.
Perhaps peace itself is the state born from the persistent longing and will of those who steadily crave it?
There were also rumors of new rising experts. Among them, the name that passed most frequently through people's lips was none other than Seop Dae-gang.
Folks spoke of the astonishing victories Seop Dae-gang and the Ten Ghost Chasers he led had achieved during the Righteous-Demonic Great War. They recounted his heroic deeds and the numerous Demonic Cult elites he had captured or slain.
Before long, Seop Dae-gang had become a young hero whom the new generation of murim talents looked up to.
'Did I kill Hong Gong-tak for nothing?'
Having slain the hero's right-hand man, it was hard to say the Righteous Alliance wouldn't come hunting for him. He wasn't afraid of them showing up, just annoyed by the hassle.
Aside from Yong Seol-ran, he hadn't given his name to anyone, so he wasn't overly worried. But with all sorts of weirdos in the murim world, he couldn't help feeling a twinge of concern.
'Ah, whatever.'
Absorbing these and other rumors, he entered Shandong Province. Two days later, he arrived at Jinan, the provincial capital famed as the hometown of Li Bai and Du Fu.
His master favored Fenjiu from the tavern near Lixia Pavilion, by the shores of Daming Lake where Li Bai and Du Fu were said to have drunk and recited poetry.
Heuk Do-san sold the horse he'd ridden thus far and loaded up on the finest Fenjiu, along with gifts aplenty for his junior brothers. Three days after that, he finally entered Bongrae Port, home to the White Deer Academy.
It had been a fortnight since leaving Tongmango Fortress, and thirteen years since he'd set out vowing vengeance for his slain junior brother.
'I've really come back now.'
During the Righteous-Demonic Great War, Shandong Province had endured the full brunt of the chaos. Yet the port bustled with people and showed no trace of the devastation—it was utterly serene.
The aromas of liquor and food wafting from the eateries tickled his five viscera and six bowels, but Heuk Do-san had no time to sate his hunger. He hurried straight toward Dan Cliff Mountain, where the White Deer Academy lay.
It had always puzzled him, even back then: why had his master built the academy in such a remote mountain hollow?
If he'd chosen a spot near the bustling port, full of human activity, procuring supplies would have been easy, and it would have been convenient in every way.
The mountain path to the White Deer Academy bloomed with wildflowers, just as it had on the day he'd left long ago.
Come to think of it, he'd departed right around this time of year. Looking back, he'd been through so much. Neither he nor his master had dreamed it would take so many years.
Heuk Do-san trudged up the path for a good while before halting abruptly. The road had vanished.
"Coming back after so long, have I lost my way?"
No, that couldn't be. Thirteen years was no short time, but not long enough to forget the path.
"What in the world happened?"
After scanning the surroundings for some time, Heuk Do-san realized the path had been completely overgrown with thick grass.
If the grass had grown this much, shouldn't they have cut it back? Tending the road to the White Deer Academy had always been the junior brothers' duty.
It looked like the rascals had been taking the steep side paths and neglecting the main route.
What if the master tripped on a stone at night?
"Those lazy brats."
But that hope was wishful thinking. Shaking off the ominous thoughts surfacing in his mind, Heuk Do-san pushed through the grass.
After about the time it takes to eat a meal, a manor the size of a hand appeared amid dense pines.
Ominous premonitions never lie. The academy was no longer as it had been. Half-collapsed walls were overrun with nameless vines, and broken roof tiles were thick with moss.
Grass grew waist-high in the courtyard, and a roe deer hidden in it fled at the sound of his approach.
"Master!"
He shouted loudly, just in case, but no answer came.
His mind reeled. He searched the nearby rooms of his brothers one by one. The chambers, marked with mouse droppings, greeted him only with thick dust and cobwebs.
He even entered his master's room. The bed, the desk—traces of his master lingered everywhere. But there was no warmth of life to be found.
The only sign of human presence was in the kitchen. A pile of dry grass in the corner bore clear impressions of someone having slept there, and pots and pans crusted with rice scraps lay scattered about.
He thrust his hand into the hearth; it still held faint warmth.
'Someone was here until recently.'
Stepping outside, Heuk Do-san circled the area again, scrutinizing it. At first he hadn't noticed, but amid the thick grass, he spotted faint traces of people coming and going.
Then, at the far edge of the courtyard under a massive tree, something odd caught his eye. During his studying days, it was the spot where he'd sit alone on drunken nights, gazing out at the Shandong sea.
He hurriedly parted the grass and rushed over.
There were three graves.
One he knew well. Long ago, he'd buried his second brother there himself, slain by a Demonic Cult blade.
But the other two were unfamiliar. Calming his pounding heart, he approached the graves.
The first epitaph was naturally his second brother's. Reading slowly down the second grave's stone, Heuk Do-san doubted his own eyes.
「Aspiring to serve as a minister of state and illuminate the world, yet skill fell short; striving to fulfill his duty as a brother, yet heaven offered no aid; seeking to be a loyal disciple, yet departing before his master—the unworthy firstborn disciple of White Deer Academy, Heuk Do-san, slumbers here.」
"My epitaph?"
He couldn't make sense of it.
If he had to guess, after the war ended with no sign of his return, they must have assumed him dead and raised an empty mound.
"He might have just run off, so why go to the trouble..."
Shaking off the unease, Heuk Do-san read the third epitaph. Unlike his own verbose one, this was very short.
But its contents made his heart sink.
「On the initial day of the seventh month, fourteenth year of Wu-gong, the nameless scholar Jo Gong-san, who devoted his life to raising disciples, passed quietly at seventy-two.」
"Master... has passed?"
It felt like a hammer blow to the back of his head. Strength drained from his body; he couldn't stand.
"No... it can't be...!"
From pulling the boy drowning in a well during his childhood, his master had fed and taught him ever since. He was a father in all but blood.
And now that man was gone.
He read the epitaph over and over, doubting his eyes. But the fact stood undeniable.
"Master!"
Heuk Do-san collapsed there and wept bitterly.
The fourteenth year of Wu-gong was just three years ago.
If only he hadn't gone to the steppe, hadn't been trapped in that cave—he could have returned and seen his master.
"Forgive this foolish disciple."
No matter how much he cried, the tears wouldn't stop. Only after half a day had passed, as the sun began to set, did Heuk Do-san finally regain his senses and rise.
He placed the Fenjiu he'd brought before the grave and bowed. And he wondered.
What on earth had happened all this time?
Why had his master passed, and where had his senior brothers gone—the ones who recited lessons like a flock of birds at dawn?
If this was all someone else's doing...
"I'll tear their limbs to shreds."
"Who's there?"
He whirled at the sudden voice. In the corner of the courtyard stood ragged folk.
A burly forty-something man who looked strong, a young woman who seemed his wife, and three little girls.
Their patched clothes, bird's-nest hair, gaunt faces, and shoulder-slung gourds marked them clearly as a beggar family.
Heuk Do-san rose smoothly.
His towering frame and fierce presence made the beggar family flinch and step back.
The woman, apparently the mother, quickly hid the children behind her.
The man spotted the axe at Heuk Do-san's waist and widened his eyes. Glancing around, he snatched up a stick from the yard and bellowed.
"This place has been mine for three years now. If you need an empty house, try down at the port."
At first, Heuk Do-san didn't grasp the meaning. Then he realized they mistook him for a beggar.
"I'm no wanderer."
"Everyone denies reality at first."
The man glanced at his wife.
"Got that from the Nine Dragons Eatery earlier, right? You take the kids to the kitchen. Give him that, and I'll handle this."
The woman pulled something wrapped in leaves from her bosom and handed it to him.
"Honey, I'm scared."
"It's fine. Nothing'll happen."
The man turned back to Heuk Do-san and tossed the leaf-wrapped bundle.
Heuk Do-san caught it reflexively. Peeling back the leaves dripping with sauce revealed a white rice ball.
The man said.
"You look like you rolled in from out of town, friend. Even here, there's such a thing as code among the locals. As I said, I've claimed this place long ago—eat that and head on down."
It was the first time "friend" had grated so badly.
"You're misunderstanding something. This was my home long ago. I don't know how you ended up settling here, but..."
"You're the type words won't work on!"
Before Heuk Do-san could finish, the man charged through the grass. For a starving beggar, he had some meat on him—the swinging stick carried real weight.
But how could he match a murim man?
Heuk Do-san shifted his left foot slightly, effortlessly dodging the stick.
"Well now."
The first strike missed; the man retreated, then unleashed a second and third in quick succession. Each time, Heuk Do-san spun in place, evading them all.
This couldn't go on forever. He finally shot out a hand and seized the stick. With his instep, he tapped the man's back knee, forcing him down, then pressed his shoulder lightly with his left hand.
"Ugh, sneaking from behind, you coward!"
The man groaned as if shouldering a boulder. His face twisted horribly, sweat beading on his tousled hair, releasing a sour stench.
"Don't hit our father!"
Tiny girls hurled stones as they rushed him.
"Kids, save Daddy!"
The woman glared fiercely, drew a kitchen knife from her bosom, and charged.
"This is insane."
He couldn't strike women and children.
Heuk Do-san twisted the woman's knife hand with one reach. The stone-swinging girls got light taps on bellies and bottoms, sending them tumbling.
The children flopped into the grass. The youngest must have hit a stone; she wailed, nose bleeding profusely.
"Yeonnyeon!"
The father roared.
Enraged, he summoned Herculean strength to rise.
Seeing their sibling's blood, the older sisters dropped their stones and latched onto his legs, biting with their teeth.
The woman switched the knife to her other hand and thrust at his gut. Road-hardened beggars, every one—parents and kids alike, vicious as vipers.
"This is madness."
Heuk Do-san first pinned the rising man firmly with his left foot. With his right, he wrenched the woman's knife hand again, then flipped her body and embraced her from behind.
"How dare you touch me there! Release that hand or I'll chew out your guts!"
The man bellowed.
Unable to move, the woman bit Heuk Do-san's wrist and yanked his hair with her free hand.
"I'm losing it, really!"
Heuk Do-san shuddered once. The girls on his legs fell off like fleas from a dog's fur.
He hoisted the woman, spun her once in the air, and slammed her atop the man's shoulders.
"Eek!"
Pressing down on both, he said.
"I mean you no harm. I'll release you both, so let's talk a moment. Nod if you understand."