A Bitter Memory
"There is nothing but the hard liquor."
Thud.
At Jiang Zhou's words, Dokgo Yeob drew a single book from his robes and laid it on the table. He had brought it along just in case, and in the end he had no choice but to produce it.
If Baek Mun-do intended to take the younger brother as his disciple, then he himself would claim the elder.
The moment Baek Mun-do confirmed what was written on the cover, he shot to his feet.
"The Purple Heaven Red Demonic Sword? Are you out of your mind?"
This was no ordinary sword manual like the Moonlight Sword Manual Baek Mun-do had offered. It ranked among the top ten supreme techniques of the entire Demonic Cult. Judged objectively, the Purple Heaven Red Demonic Sword far surpassed the Moonlight Sword Manual.
"And what does that make you, the man who threw away the Moonlight Sword Manual for a drink?"
"Still, this is too far!"
"Too far? What exactly is too far, you sly snake? Be honest with me. You were trying every trick you knew to lure those boys into the Murim Alliance, weren't you?"
Pressed by Dokgo Yeob's interrogation, Baek Mun-do felt his stomach drop. It was true—he hadn't been entirely free of such ambitions. That was precisely why he had tossed out the Moonlight Sword Manual, hoping to let the boys decide for themselves.
As for their inner power, he hadn't worried in the least. Once they drank that precious liquor, their cultivation would pile up in no time. The Moonlight Sword Manual, precious as it was, was far from the finest technique he possessed.
But the Purple Heaven Red Demonic Sword was brazen. Nakedly, shamelessly brazen.
So the old fox has made up his mind for good.
Unlike Baek Mun-do's anxiety, however, Jiang Zhou refused the manual outright.
"I will not accept a martial arts manual as payment for liquor."
At that, Dokgo Yeob gave a cold laugh.
"I have already paid for the liquor. Bring it out at once. If you try to deceive me again, you will find it very difficult to run a business here."
"Who do you think you are, prattling on about whether I can do business or not? This is the front yard of the Murim Alliance!"
An enraged Baek Mun-do cut in, but Dokgo Yeob paid him not the slightest heed.
"In any case, I have paid for the liquor. Bring it out, and quickly."
Jiang Zhou mulled it over. The Cult Leader's threats did not frighten him. But at the thought that these men would keep coming back for that liquor again and again, his head began to ache.
In the end, I suppose I'll have to show them the liquor is truly gone, or this will never end.
He opened the liquor jar and drew out one enormous root. It was a Thousand-Year He Shou Wu that had steeped in alcohol for so many years that nearly all of its medicinal potency had leached away.
He laid it on the cutting board, took up his kitchen knife, and split it in two. Then he began slicing the halved root into paper-thin pieces.
Thud... thud... thud...
When he heaped the sliced root into a large bowl and set it before them, Dokgo Yeob spoke up.
"I distinctly told you to bring out the liquor."
"There is truly no medicinal liquor left. All that remains is the spirit herb that soaked in it."
Hearing this, Dokgo Yeob promptly raised his chopsticks and picked up a slice of the thinly cut He Shou Wu.
Munch, munch...
Perhaps from its long soak, the root had lost all of its crispness. But it was saturated with a deep, mellow fragrance of wine, and that alone made it a pleasure to eat.
Baek Mun-do picked up his chopsticks and began eating as well.
Munch, munch...
The two of them worked their chopsticks with frantic diligence, as if determined to snatch one more bite than the other.
"I'll take payment for the food in silver taels."
At Jiang Zhou's words, Baek Mun-do glanced at Dokgo Yeob, chopsticks still moving.
"I paid last time, so you pay this time."
"The audacity of a shameless snake never ends. I have never once drunk that medicinal liquor for free."
"But you did eat for free, didn't you?"
"A man who covets other people's wives—now he's refusing to pay for his meal too?"
Struck squarely on a raw nerve, Baek Mun-do exploded.
"When have I ever coveted a married woman...?! Do you want to die, you wretch...?!"
Dokgo Yeob was not one to sit quietly either.
"Oh, is that so, you dog? Then let's settle this—a proper airing of old grievances, for old times' sake."
As their bickering threatened to boil over, Jiang Zhou stepped in.
"If you're going to fight, please take it outside."
After glaring at each other for a long while, the two men sank back into their seats. And then they promptly resumed shoveling food into their mouths.
"Next time, you pay. How much is the food?"
Baek Mun-do yielded and asked the price.
"Ten thousand silver taels."
His chopsticks froze midair as he stared hard at Jiang Zhou's face.
"Since when is a meal worth that much?"
"I'm charging you cheaply. Soaked in liquor for years though it was, a spirit herb is still a spirit herb, is it not?"
Mmm...
Letting out a low groan, Baek Mun-do turned to look at Dokgo Yeob. But the man would not meet his eyes even once.
Good grief...
"I only brought two thousand taels with me, so you'll have to take the rest next time."
Baek Mun-do pulled the money pouch from his robes and dropped the whole thing onto the table.
Baek Mun-do and Dokgo Yeob crossed the Stone Bridge and vanished into the darkness.
"Boss, what should we do with the Sect Leader?"
The moment they disappeared, Yang Jeong pointed at Sin Pung-gae, who was snoring away in a dead sleep.
"Throw him out somewhere far away."
"The Beggars' Sect Leader himself?"
"Well? Would you rather sleep in the same room as a man who reeks like that?"
"Ah... fair point."
Nodding, Yang Jeong tucked Sin Pung-gae under his arm and crossed the Stone Bridge. Then he set off toward the Murim Alliance. After walking for a good while, he came upon a patch of soft grass, and there he deposited the Sect Leader.
Things are about to get difficult. They're going to keep showing up.
Worry crept over Yang Jeong first, before anything else. But as Boss always said, they couldn't just keep running away forever.
"Eh, it'll work out somehow."
Worrying changed nothing. If he wanted to live an easy life, he had to start by getting rid of the worry itself. No matter how much you fretted over a problem that wouldn't solve itself, it was always better simply not to worry at all.
Mmmh...
Back within the Murim Alliance, Baek Mun-do could feel power surging up through his body, vigorous and unmistakable.
What kind of spirit herb on earth produces an effect like this?
Even a spirit herb of two or three hundred years, should one ever surface in the world, would be snatched up by the wealthy for astronomical sums. But such herbs did not produce dramatic effects. One needed at least five hundred years of age to feel any real benefit.
And yet the herb he had just eaten seemed to tower far beyond five hundred years.
My dear wife, wait just a moment. Tonight, I shall be very...
He was about to push open the door to his wife's chambers when he paused mid-step.
"Coming back from somewhere, Father?"
Turning, he was greeted by his son's bow.
"Mm. I had a drink at the inn."
"It must have been a most pleasant occasion, Father."
"What makes you say that?"
Baek Won-young allowed himself a sly smile. His father's footsteps were light and his expression bright—it had no doubt been a thoroughly enjoyable outing.
"Just a feeling I had, Father."
Heh heh...
"Off to bed with you, then. Ah—wait. Do you happen to know a boy called Yang Jeong? Or is it Samryong? The name keeps slipping my mind."
Baek Mun-do stopped mid-turn and asked.
"I believe he is the younger brother of the inn's owner. His looks are so striking one could call him the finest beauty under heaven without any exaggeration."
"So you do know him. Treat that boy well from now on."
"Has something happened, Father?"
Baek Won-young was curious why his father had taken an interest in Yang Jeong. The inn was such a pleasant, cheerful place that even without his father's urging, he would have wanted to grow close to the brothers. The elder brother especially suited his temperament far better than the younger one did.
"There's no need to look so deep into it. Just keep a careful eye on that boy. If you notice anything extraordinary about him, tell me as well."
"Understood, Father."
He could feel the power.
Overwhelming, boundless strength—more than he knew what to do with.
Whoooosh.................
Dokgo Yeob tore through the night in a frantic burst of lightness skill.
Damn it all... the inn is simply too far, and that wretch has every advantage.
Baek Mun-do would be savoring this volcanic surge of power about now too. But the distance back to the Demonic Cult still stretched long and merciless before him.
Of all places, why did that inn have to plant itself in the Murim Alliance's front yard?
That Baek Mun-do—what a lucky devil he was.
My dear wife, wait just a moment. Hurry, hurry home.
A Beggars' Sect beggar raced toward the Murim Alliance headquarters. He could have simply sent a dispatch, but the Sect Leader had called the matter extremely important.
I don't understand why he insists on digging up the past all over again.
The beggar knew what had happened thirteen years ago. Back then, more than a dozen of their brothers had lost their heads. It had been a stain of shame upon the entire Beggars' Sect.
Whoooosh............
Racing toward the Alliance, the beggar spotted something and abruptly halted his lightness skill.
"Sect Leader! What are you doing here? Sect Leader, get up at once!"
He shook Sin Pung-gae, who lay sprawled asleep in the grass, until the old man woke with a single low moan.
Mmm.........
The first things his opening eyes registered were the bright sunlight and the filthy face of a beggar. Then came the headache—a skull-splitting throb, as if his head would crack apart.
Mmm...
But a true lover of wine had to savor even this. Gritting his teeth, Sin Pung-gae did his best to appreciate the pain—and then it suddenly dawned on him that he was lying in the grass.
"Why, those... unspeakable ingrates!"
Furious, Sin Pung-gae bolted upright from the grass. Drunk though he may have been, leaving him sprawled in the open road—no, dumped in the weeds like refuse—was beyond forgiveness.
Venting his rage in full, he fixed a baleful glare on the middle-aged beggar before him.
"So what business brings you out here?"
"You ordered us to find the brothers who did those wicked things long ago, did you not?"
Oh..........
Sin Pung-gae's fury drained away in an instant. He had given the order, yes, but he had never expected them to turn up results this quickly.
"Remarkable work. Speak, then—what manner of men were they?"
The middle-aged beggar's face darkened as he began.
"It is a matter you know well, Sect Leader."
"I know it well? What exactly is it I know so well?"
Sin Pung-gae could not make heads or tails of the man's words. With a resigned sigh, the middle-aged beggar settled down beside him.
Whew.............
"Out with it already, damn you. The suspense is killing me."
"What I mean is—thirteen years ago, did you not cut off those men's heads with your own hands, Sect Leader?"
Sin Pung-gae's face twisted into something cruel and dark in the space of a heartbeat.
How could he ever forget what happened that day? Thirteen years ago, twelve or more of his own beggars had seized homeless, wandering children and sold them off as slaves. Enraged, he had captured the men and severed their heads with his own hands. Then he had set out to hunt down the bandits who had taken the children.
But the moment the pursuit began, the bandits vanished without a trace.
"What could that affair possibly have to do with this one?"
"It was I who interrogated those brothers personally, Sect Leader. And in the course of that interrogation, I heard an account concerning one particular child."
By all accounts, an remarkably diligent child. Instead of begging for food, the boy earned his meals by doing odd jobs for whoever would feed him. And those cursed beggars had stolen even that—snatched the very rice from the child's bowl.
Unable to bear it any longer, the child fought back against them. But how could a boy so young possibly defeat grown beggars? They seized him and made to sell him off as a slave.
Yet astonishingly, in the dead of night the child slipped out of the pigsty of a room where he'd been locked, and turned on the beggars themselves. Clutching a stone in his small fist, he cracked their skulls open.
Enraged, the beggars beat him again and again until the boy was on the verge of drawing his last breath. Had they still intended to sell him, he might have died then and there. Instead, they handed him over to the bandits.
"I cannot say whether that child is the one you seek, Sect Leader. But during the interrogation, I did hear that such a child existed."
The interrogation back then had been merciless, brutally thorough. Unable to endure it, the beggars had vomited up every last thing they could remember.
Creak........
"Those unforgivable..."
Enraged anew, Sin Pung-gae ground his teeth. Back then, cutting off their heads had been too merciful. He should have beaten them to death with his crutch, bone by bone.
Whew...........
Sin Pung-gae could not hold back a long groan of despair. He still had no way of knowing whether that child was the inn's owner or not. But even so—what face could he possibly show that boy again?
And that was not the whole of the problem. If he could no longer set foot inside the inn, then the younger brother could never become his successor either.
"Because of those wretches, I've gone and ruined the Beggars' Sect's greatest affair. What am I to do about this, what am I to do..."
Plunged into despair, Sin Pung-gae even shed tears.
"Sect Leader, please, compose yourself."
"Does it look like I can compose myself, you fool?! The Beggars' Sect is about to lose its heir—the Beggars' Sect's heir!"
Whew...
Having raised his voice, the Sect Leader let out a long, weary sigh.
"Anything else to report?"
"Plenty. Suspicious figures have been showing their faces all over the region, but we cannot determine who they are."
"Keep watching them."