Rejuvenation
After downing three cups in quick succession, Baek Mun-do spoke.
"How many years has it been since we last met?"
"Twenty-five."
Dokgo Yeob, who had likewise drained his three cups, answered him.
"Time truly passes in the blink of an eye. It feels like only yesterday we were striding across the jianghu in high spirits."
"Time is a monster that treats everyone equally."
"That's true. I suppose I've gotten old as well—my body isn't what it used to be. Not long ago I fell ill and took to my bed, and only barely managed to rise again."
"That's the light of a dying ember. Your days are numbered."
Baek Mun-do glared at him with savage eyes.
"You always did have a rotten way with words."
Dokgo Yeob glared back just as murderously.
"And do I look like someone who *wouldn't* be upset? Your men drew blood from mine."
"Only because your men drew their blades first!"
"The ones who picked the fight weren't my men. They were yours."
Bickering all the while, they drained their cups in unison, as if something were eating at them.
Kkeu...
And then, in the same instant, they both picked up a pinch of the seasoned wild greens and popped them into their mouths.
What strange people.
Jiang Zhou couldn't suppress an amused smile. They acted like sworn enemies, yet neither seemed to have any real desire to kill the other.
Having emptied a bottle in no time, Dokgo Yeob lifted the empty vessel.
"Have you no other liquor in this inn?"
The question stung Jiang Zhou a little. Cheap and harsh it may have been, but it was hardly swill unfit for drinking.
"There is. But it's frightfully expensive."
"How expensive?"
Jiang Zhou had absolutely no intention of serving liquor to these insolent uninvited guests. So he named an absurd price.
"One thousand silver taels a cup."
In truth, even a thousand taels per cup was a bargain. He should have asked for a hundred thousand at minimum. But no one walked around carrying ten thousand—let alone a hundred thousand—silver taels on their person.
At his answer, a flicker of discomposure crossed their faces. Baek Mun-do looked frankly incredulous, and a faint killing intent began to smolder in Dokgo Yeob's eyes.
With a chill smile, Dokgo Yeob spoke.
"Just now... did you say one thousand silver taels?"
"Yes. Normally this liquor goes for a hundred thousand a cup."
Jiang Zhou met his words without shrinking an inch. Dokgo Yeob then drew a money pouch from his robe and produced a bank note worth ten thousand silver taels.
"Ten cups, then. But if that liquor cannot match the price, your head will leave your shoulders."
What... the hell is this?
Jiang Zhou was considerably taken aback. Who on earth casually carried bank notes worth ten thousand silver taels?
"What's the matter? Lost your nerve?"
Dokgo Yeob's smile had gone beyond sinister and become outright creepy. As that terrifying smile spread across his face, his handsome features twisted into something resembling a demon.
No—not *resembling*. He looked like a demon, plain and simple.
But Jiang Zhou had no spare attention for the man's killing intent.
Oh no. That liquor...
The liquor his master used to drink was a treasure without equal in all the world. It was steeped not only in thousand-year fleeceflower root but thousand-year snow ginseng as well—and into the bargain, a measure of stalactite oil.
Words once spoken could not be taken back.
Aigoo, what a waste.
With trembling hands, Jiang Zhou opened the liquor jar and ladled the liquor into a bottle. He poured precisely ten cups and set them out alongside the Dongpo pork, then pocketed the ten-thousand-tael note.
Well, look at this guy.
Baek Mun-do and Dokgo Yeob studied Jiang Zhou intently. However rare it might be, how many people in the jianghu could calmly absorb Dokgo Yeob's killing intent as he had? Yet this young man had taken it in stride as if it were nothing.
He doesn't seem to be a martial artist.
Anyone who had trained in martial arts should have radiated an aura far stronger than that of ordinary folk. But the young innkeeper's presence was utterly unremarkable. True, if his skill matched theirs, he could conceivably conceal it—but did such a person even exist in the jianghu? Nowhere in the world was there anyone who remained this composed while the two of them sat before his very eyes.
"Do you know who I am?"
Jiang Zhou answered Dokgo Yeob's question with a flat, wooden voice.
"Who might you be, sir?"
Having handed over ten cups of that liquor at a pittance, he was still grieving the loss.
"No matter."
Curiosity set aside, the two filled their cups.
Shurr...
The moment the liquor left the bottle, a mellow fragrance brushed past the tips of their noses.
"The aroma... is respectable enough."
They drained their cups in unison.
Kkeu...
The liquor had a bite to it, but its subtle fragrance and clean, refreshing taste lingered lingeringly in the mouth. It was a supreme flavor such as neither had ever tasted anywhere before.
This really is delicious.
Greatly satisfied, Dokgo Yeob picked up a piece of meat and put it in his mouth.
Chew, chew...
His two eyes flashed with strange light.
Hoh...
The flavor was so subtle and deep that admiration spilled from his mouth unbidden. The meat was elastic yet tender—like eating raw, freshly butchered beef.
"Is this... really pork?"
"Yes, sir. It is."
At Jiang Zhou's answer, Baek Mun-do too lifted his chopsticks and took a piece.
Chew, chew...
Having tasted it, he stared at Jiang Zhou's face with wide, astonished eyes. He had traveled the length and breadth of the jianghu and eaten Dongpo pork hundreds—thousands—of times, but never once had he tasted Dongpo pork better than this. Watching himself marvel, he examined it more closely and found that its shape differed slightly from the common Dongpo pork sold in ordinary inns.
"The liquor is one thing, but... I'd gladly pay a thousand taels for a single piece of this meat."
For him, that was the highest praise imaginable.
To think such an inn existed here. Had I known sooner, I would have come dozens of times already.
Jiang Zhou was already making his third batch of Dongpo pork. Once this was done, not a scrap of meat would remain in the inn.
Baek Mun-do, savoring his drink and food, asked a question.
"By the way—why on earth did you compose that song and spread it through the jianghu?"
Though they now bared blades at each other and growled like dogs, there had once been a time when they were sworn friends. No—even now, the other was the only comrade he could trust his back to on a battlefield. Such a friend would never compose a mocking song about him after twenty-five years.
Dokgo Yeob emptied his cup in silence, then slowly opened his mouth.
"The Blood Cult has revived."
Kkeok—!
Baek Mun-do jolted and spat out the Dongpo pork he had been savoring.
"What? What... what did you just say?"
Jiang Zhou, sitting in the kitchen, was considerably startled as well. Among the stories his master had once bragged about, he had said that fighting the red-eyed devils had been the hardest of all. His master had doubted it would ever come to that, but he had added a warning: should he ever cross paths with one of those crazed fiends, he must be especially careful.
But Dokgo Yeob and Baek Mun-do failed to notice the shock on Jiang Zhou's face.
"About a year ago I sent my men into the ruined Blood Valley. Every one of them died."
"Then you should have gone yourself."
Dokgo Yeob emptied his cup with a grave face. The moment the liquor went down, half his gloom washed away with it.
"I did go myself, as a matter of course. But I couldn't find so much as a trace of them."
Baek Mun-do was reluctant to believe him. That was how terrifying the thought of the Blood Cult's revival was.
"How can you be certain the Blood Cult has revived just because your men died?"
"The one who led my men into Blood Valley was Yumrado, the Giant Saber of the Underworld. The bodies of the others were all there—his alone was never found."
His stomach churning, Baek Mun-do drained his cup in a single gulp.
"...Damn it all. To think that at my age I must fight the Blood Cult in a life-and-death battle yet again..."
Yumrado had been a master powerful enough to rank among the ten finest in all the jianghu. Their friendship ran deep, and in days long past they had been like brothers.
"Nothing to be done about it. Those devils thirst for blood—always."
The drinking party had turned abruptly heavy.
Having drained his cup without a word, Dokgo Yeob rose first.
"I'm off. Take care of yourself."
Baek Mun-do nodded from his seat.
"You take care too. Give my regards to Lady Gwak."
"I must pay your wife a visit someday. I'd like to ask her how it feels to be married to a man who carries another man's wife in his heart."
At Dokgo Yeob's needling, Baek Mun-do's face suddenly broke into an awkward smile.
Haha...
"I was only joking. It's been so long since we last met."
Tsk, tsk...
Shooting him a look of utter disdain, Dokgo Yeob crossed the stream and vanished into the darkness. Once he was gone, Baek Mun-do rose as well.
"How much?"
"Four silver taels for the food and liquor combined."
Baek Mun-do stared at Jiang Zhou's face for a long moment. Four silver taels would buy a drink even in the finest tavern of the capital. But he didn't press the matter. The food had been worth every bit of it.
"Here."
Handing over the four silver taels, Baek Mun-do too crossed the stream and disappeared into the dark.
"Come again anytime, honored guest."
Jiang Zhou bowed deeply at the waist toward the man vanishing into the night.
Those certainly weren't ordinary customers...
How many people in the jianghu could mention the Blood Cult as casually as breathing, and command hundreds of subordinates besides? Those rude middle-aged men were almost certainly figures of considerable renown in the martial world.
He had met a friend he couldn't bear to look at, yet his mood was far from bad. No—having sat side by side and shared drinks after so many years, he felt as though he had returned to his youth.
Fweeee...
Walking at a leisurely pace, Dokgo Yeob suddenly spread his lightness skill and streaked toward the Demonic Cult.
"...............Huh?"
His body suddenly surged, and his energy began to rise without warning.
What's happening to my body?
He hastily sat in the full-lotus position and began circulating his energy—the only way to calm the qi erupting from within him like a volcano. It had been ages since he had opened his Upper Dantian, so he had no thought of absorbing the surging energy into his internal power. He only meant to suppress the volcanic eruption.
But the energy only grew stronger and stronger.
"Oh no..."
Springing to his feet, he drew his sword and slashed it in all directions.
Shwaaaak...
BOOM! CRACK! BOOM!
Trees toppled and boulders split beneath his flying sword strikes.
Crash-rumble... THUD! THUD!
Yet the energy erupting within him like a volcano refused to subside. So tremendous was the surging power that even his lower dantian swelled rigid as an iron bar, on the verge of bursting.
KWA-KWA-KWAAAAAM!
Having slashed his sword in every direction, he flung himself into his lightness skill toward the Demonic Cult.
Wife. Just wait a little longer.
Fweee... fweee...
Each time his toe struck the ground, the darkness twenty-some zhang beyond collapsed into the space before his eyes in an instant. The darkness that had surged up fell away behind him, and still more darkness rushed forward to meet him.
Having entered his room, Baek Mun-do had also fallen asleep. Until only a few years ago, he had shared a bed with his wife, but as the years accumulated, sleeping alone had grown more comfortable.
Drunk on liquor and deep in sleep, he suddenly bolted upright.
What... the...?
Like Dokgo Yeob, Baek Mun-do felt energy erupting within him like a volcano. Sitting urgently in the lotus position, he began circulating his energy. He too had long since opened his Upper Dantian and could not absorb the surging power into his cultivation. Heartbreaking as it was—enough to bring tears to his eyes—he could only slowly vent the torrent of qi out of his body.
But the energy was far vaster than he had reckoned. Worse, his lower dantian had stiffened until he could scarcely steady his mind at all.
Feeling the burning power of his youth surging through him once more, he sprang up and left the room. In the next chamber, his wife lay deep asleep.
Baek Mun-do threw back her blanket without a word and pulled her into his arms.
"Oh—? Has this old man lost his mind? What on earth has gotten into you?"
His wife, startled awake, flailed her arms wildly.
"My lady...!"
But Baek Mun-do was no longer in possession of his right mind.