Chapter 226
Chapter 226
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Translator: penny
Chapter Title: Short Companionship (2)
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“What are you doing right now?”
Geum Jeong asked coldly, her eyes hardened. The men smirked at her.
“She's got quite the temper.”
“Heh heh. Girls with some fire have a special flavor.”
The blood drained from Geum Jeong's hand gripping her sword at their response.
Neung Pung-un stepped forward with a roguish laugh, blocking their path.
“Haha. Brothers, aren't you going a bit overboard?”
“What's this gigolo? Ptooey!”
He was obviously a third-rate warrior, strutting about without even knowing who stood before him.
“You her husband or something?”
“She's a close acquaintance.”
“Heh heh. Then no problem. Introduce me sometime.”
The burly man slapped a hand on Neung Pung-un's shoulder and squeezed hard.
‘Trying to intimidate me with raw strength, huh.’
Neung Pung-un didn't budge an inch.
Sure enough, the burly man's face turned ashen in an instant.
“You bastard, move!”
“Doesn't seem like your lucky day. Best head out quietly.”
“Damn brat.”
The burly man laughed hollowly before thrusting out a fist.
Shiiik!
Neung Pung-un dodged by tilting his chin slightly, his left fist flashing like lightning.
Puk-.
In the blink of an eye, he drove it into the man's gut. The puncher stumbled several steps before collapsing face-first.
“Wha-what?”
His companions had chuckled at first, thinking it a joke, but their faces went pale.
“You bastard!”
“Kill him!”
Sring!
Their sword draws were clumsy as hell.
‘Textbook third-raters. No street smarts either—they won't last long.’
“I'll cleave you in one stroke!”
They had some skill, swinging their blades fiercely enough, but those two weren't even worthy opponents for Neung Pung-un.
Shiiik!
He twisted his torso slightly to evade a stab at his chest.
Thwack!
“Argh!”
A palm strike to the wrist sent the sword flying.
Tung!
He kicked the dropped blade up with his toe and hurled it at the next attacker.
Chaeng!
“Keuk!”
Unable to handle the spinning force, the burly man smashed through a table in a spectacular tumble.
“Huff! He's an expert!”
“Th-then this girl too!”
The remaining thugs tried to grab Geum Jeong to escape the crisis, but that proved a fatal mistake.
“Hmph!”
Geum Jeong, now furious, unleashed a lightning strike with her sheathed sword.
Bbuck!
The man clutched his brow and collapsed with a strangled “Euk!” Blood trickled between his fingers.
“How dare you lay hands on her.”
Tatataht.
Her sheathed sword danced brilliantly toward the charging foes.
‘Not complete trash after all.’
Striking acupoints with a sheath required precise internal energy control and blinding speed.
Thud.
The last man toppled like a rotten log, plunging the inn into dead silence.
“Anyone else feel like flirting?”
...
The patrons desperately averted their eyes and clamped their mouths shut.
Neung Pung-un quickly wrapped things up.
“No lingering here. Evil sect types are surprisingly tenacious. We'll leave at first light.”
“Sorry. My fault.”
“It's fine. But tone down the flashy outfits from now on.”
“Got it.”
Their brief rest was ruined from the start.
In the end, they managed a short session of energy circulation before fleeing the village at dawn.
Neung Pung-un couldn't hide his discomfort at the eerie presence.
“Being tracked?”
“Seems like it. Odd, though. It was just a minor scuffle—no reason for pursuit.”
“Heard the evil sects are sloppy but clingy in weird ways.”
“Spot on. That's their nature—clear lines between foe and friend.”
The evil sects differed sharply from the righteous, who obsessed over justifications and pretexts for battle.
They were infamous for drawing steel on easy marks without cause.
But this was excessive.
“Guess having Sa-gun as backing makes them fearless.”
The law of the jungle ruled the evil sects too. Life mattered, sure.
“With solid support, they figure it's worth a shot.”
Sa-gun was exploiting their habits masterfully.
‘This'll be a hassle for a while.’
Hardships revealed a person's true mettle.
Should be entertaining.
The situation tangled worse than expected.
Strange glances dogged them from the next village, culminating in trouble at their lodging.
“Who's there?”
Bam!
“Ugh!”
Kicking the door sent the man eavesdropping outside sprawling.
The bellboy who'd shown them in moments ago.
“Who put you up to this?”
Sring.
Geum Jeong pressed her drawn sword to his chin. The bellboy begged.
“G-great sir! Mercy! They threatened me—I had no choice!”
“Get lost!”
Geum Jeong slammed the door, her face grim.
“Bellboy's in on it too.”
“Worse than I thought. Drew more eyes than expected.”
“Pushing on like this is pointless. Time for a different route?”
“Agreed. We'll skirt populated areas, even if it takes longer.”
Neung Pung-un glanced back.
“You holding up?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah. Fine.”
“What're you spacing out staring at?”
“Nothing.”
“You rascal...”
They hit the road before dawn the next day.
Sticking to remote paths, Chu Un-hwi observed Neung Pung-un—no, himself—in action.
Tatat.
Lightly tapping the ground toe-first: Huashan Sect's Floating Cloud Leap Step.
True to its name—treading clouds adrift—it was both buoyant and swift.
‘She's keeping pace nicely.’
Geum Jeong unleashed her full-speed footwork, each step graceful as a crane.
‘Mysterious Trace Step.’
Ami Sect's pinnacle art, modeled on immortal strides.
As he watched intently, Geum Jeong asked.
“What's the temporary instructor's footwork?”
“No real name.”
“Looks haphazard, but there's something profound to it.”
“Wang Lao-sa passed on some footwork basics. Body adapted quick.”
“Ah, right—you trained under Great Elder Wang Wu?”
Her gaze shifted anew. Kunlun's name carried weight with the Nine Great Sects, straight to the point as Duguryul had said.
‘Makes me miss Uncle Sima.’
Suppressing the pang of nostalgia, Chu Un-hwi accelerated.
Soon enough.
Distant houses appeared after so long.
The village after four days: Poyang County.
Neung Pung-un sighed in relief upon arrival.
“We can rest here.”
“Instructor Neung, safe spot?”
“Poyang County's famed as the water village tourist haven. Strong magistrate's office, solid security—evil sects can't gain ground.”
Familiar turf, he prowled the area like his own home.
“You been here?”
“Came once to meet Poyang Sect's regular hero Jeong Gi-jeong.”
“Regular hero? What's that?”
“Famous righteous warrior. Retired now, but legendary in his day.”
“The one who founded Poyang Sect. How's a temporary instructor clueless on basics?”
Chu Un-hwi grumbled inwardly at her sharp jab.
‘Ignorance isn't a crime.’
Just belonging to Ami Sect was sin enough; now this attitude too.
‘I'll remember this.’
True to Neung Pung-un's word, Poyang County felt secure.
Guards patrolled everywhere; passersby wore bright expressions, reassuring.
“This way.”
He led to the three-story Heavenly Dragon Inn.
“Clean, delicious food—famous spot. Righteous folk frequent it; perfect for downtime.”
“Anywhere's fine.”
Inside, a sharply dressed waiter hurried over.
Neung Pung-un flicked a silver coin with flair.
“Top floor, window seat. Silver cover it?”
“Right away, hero!”
Bowing at perfect right angles up the stairs—he looked slick and prosperous.
‘Maybe learn that coin trick.’
Chu Un-hwi climbed the creaky steps amid idle thoughts.
Atop the third floor, Neung Pung-un ordered deftly and exhaled.
“Finally feel human.”
Geum Jeong surveyed the space and marveled.
“Pretty lavish.”
“Costs a bit, but unbeatable for real rest. Right?”
“Yeah.”
The spacious hall held a family group on one side and a middle-aged warrior on the other.
Fine silk robes, ornate saber at his hip—an arresting sight.
“Murim man.”
“Who? Deep cultivation.”
Overheard them?
The silent drinker approached.
Thick brows and long sideburns defined his face; flashy garb and scabbard screamed wealth.
“New faces.”
“And you?”
“My manners. Saw the sword, figured fellow travelers—got ahead of myself.”
He halted and offered a crisp fist salute.
“Yang Oak of Radiant Advance Sword Sect.”
“Neung Ga of a nameless sect. Personal matters keep me from naming it—bear with me.”
“Haha. No issue there.”
The sideburned man had an open temperament, unbothered by the vagueness.
“Geum Jeong.”
“You?”
“Chu family's prized son.”
“Haha. Witty reply.”
He chuckled heartily, gesturing aside.
“Drinking solo got lonely. Mind if I join?”
“...We have urgent business—can't stay long.”
“Fair enough, won't push. Moderation's key, eh?”
Worry clouded his jovial face. Gauging him, Neung Pung-un conceded a step.
“Briefly, sure.”
“Oh! For real?”
They merged tables instantly.
Yang Oak proved a silver-tongued charmer.
Food arrived; he grinned at Neung Pung-un's cautious needle test.
“Silver needle? Checking for poison?”
“Embarrassing truth: meager skills, too paranoid—always verify.”
“Haha. Needle-testing's a seasoned master's habit. Nothing to blush over.”
Despite the implied slight, Yang Oak urged him on freely.
“Test the wine too. Peace of mind demands it.”
He even offered his own bottle—pure magnanimity.
Soon, warm banter flowed from his bold demeanor.
“What brings a deep scholar like you here?”
“Nothing impressive—grateful for the kind words.”
“Modest. Felt it the moment I saw you: top-tier expert. Internal energy piques my curiosity.”
They traded drinks and compliments endlessly.
Rare rapport softened Neung Pung-un's features.
Geum Jeong warmed to the boisterous, straightforward fellow too.
“What brings Hero Yang here?”
“Samyang's crawling with evil sect rabble lately. Came to lend an arm.”
“Noble sense of justice.”
“How stay idle when murim kin suffer? Master'd blow a fuse hearing.”
“Your master?”
“Radiant Conqueror Blade.”
“Radiant Five Heroes! You're disciple to Elder Jin-gyeol?”
“Shamefully so—tarnishing his legacy.”
Disciple of a renowned figure? Geum Jeong's expression eased considerably.
Yang Oak dropped handy intel too.
“Watch out. Xiyang's new magistrate's rotten. Iron Chain Alliance greased him—security's lax.”
He dissected the political currents sagely, then...
“Met Huangbo Family's Huangbo Samjung elder recently. Lucked into witnessing Thunderclap Divine Fist.”
“Huangbo's Thunderclap Divine Fist—the thunder-scattering supreme art?”
“Spot on. Fist pulverized the mountain like. If I could blend it into Radiant Advance saber arts...”
Martial arts debate ignited passionately.
Savoring the rare lively exchange, Neung Pung-un and Geum Jeong matched Yang Oak glass for glass.
“Why solo horn-blowing?”
“Tiny cups kill the vibe.”
“Legendary drinker.”
Talk wound down deep into the night.
Flushed-faced Neung Pung-un rose with regretful sigh.
“Could've pulled an all-nighter. Shame.”
Yang Oak boomed laughter, offering fist salute.
“I hit my limit too. Here's to crossing paths again.”
“Fun evening, Hero Yang.”
Party broke; Geum Jeong sipped her bottle, shooting eyes at Chu Un-hwi.
“Unlike some people.”
To which...
“This place's grub hits.”
Chu Un-hwi stonewalled with indifference.
That night.
Geum Jeong's door to her drunken-slumber room slid open silently.
A figure vaulted the window without a sound, creeping to her bedside.
“Heh heh heh. Out cold.”
Mid-sneer, hand dipping into his bosom—
Sudden chill.
A gaze pinned him; he whipped around, startled.
“Who're you.”
In the low growl, he saw: Chu Un-hwi, leaning against the doorframe, staring him down.
“We met earlier.”
“……”
Yanking down the mask revealed Yang Oak, eyes icy cold.
“...How'd you know?”
“Not the point.”
“Not the point?”
Chu Un-hwi flicked a glance at obliviously sleeping Geum Jeong before replying.
“Keep doing what you were.”
Keep going?
‘What kinda lunatic...?’
Yang Oak furrowed his stiff caterpillar brows instead.