Chapter 16
Translator: uly
Chapter: 16
Chapter Title: First Steps Down the Mountain
After the decision for the excursion was made.
By order of the Sect Leader and the elders, Jinmu had no choice but to take Cheongu and Cheongsang with him.
But it wasn't as simple as just heading out. He had to pay respects to his master Myeongjin and visit each palace to inform his martial uncles and seniors.
Stopping by Origin Harmony Hall first, he was given a worn but cleanly washed(?) Taoist robe and hat, freshly prepared.
Handing over patched-up old clothes that weren't even new, yet acting like it was a huge favor.
Still, with Origin Harmony Hall taking care of Master Myeongjin's meals, at least that worry was off his mind.
"Haha, to think my junior disciple has grown so much already, heading out on his first excursion. I'm overjoyed beyond measure!"
Jinhyeo approached, clapping him on the shoulder, then slyly slipped a money pouch into his bosom.
"I snuck this out. Buy something tasty for you and the juniors. Don't hold back."
"Yes."
He wasn't thrilled, but he accepted it gratefully anyway. Free is always good, after all.
Jinmu calmly opened the pouch.
"Ah, no, you rascal. Don't peek like that."
"......"
Ten copper coins.
No way? This little? Just this?
Hey, you said don't hold back?
As Jinmu stared in disbelief, Jinhyeo burst into laughter.
"Oh dear, you must be shocked by how much it is. It's fine. How could your senior hold back on you?"
Much? It's so little I'm staring?
Ah...... better not say it.
Damn paupers, these Taoists.
Anyway, after leaving Origin Harmony Hall, Jinmu's next stop was Welcoming Grace Hall.
"......You must not, ......be careful, ......absolutely never do that. Understand?"
"......"
It felt like his soul was drifting away from the boredom of the endless lecture repeating the same points in endless variations for nearly half a shichen right in front of him.
The fearsome Myeonggong.
He had the talent for saying the exact same thing in a hundred different ways.
And why were there so many "don'ts"?
He replied politely with "Yes," but had zero intention of following through.
Human nature is to want to do the forbidden even more, right?
And.
Why's that punk glaring at me nonstop?
Jinmu scowled back at Jinhye, who was shooting daggers at him from afar with burning eyes.
This damn bastard. Lower your eyes, punk. Or else.
Back in the day, he'd have punched first and asked questions later, but now he was a Taoist—and a junior at that—so he held back.
Just wait till I catch you alone, you punk.
The thought of escaping this stifling Taoist sect if he just endured a little longer calmed Jinmu's mind.
"Farewell and return safely."
"Yes, Martial Uncle."
Jinmu bowed politely as always and slipped out of Welcoming Grace Hall.
Next, at Encounter Truth Hall, there were countless matters to coordinate and confirm with outside forces......
At Pure East Hall—wait, no, Jade Void Palace—he received a new sword emblazoned with a clear Taiji pattern.
From Pure East Hall, he picked up an identification tag, golden sore medicine, bandages...... and more, in preparation for any emergencies.
Only then did he finally visit Purple Empyrean Palace.
To report his excursion to the Sect Leader.
The palaces weren't even clustered together; they were scattered dozens of li along the mountain ridge. Why so many procedures?
He was already exhausted before even setting out.
They need to simplify this. Damn fools. No wonder failing sects have reasons for it—talk about wearing out your mouth.
"Heh heh, that's quite a load you've got there."
"......"
At Myeonghyeon's words, Jinmu glanced at the pile of items he'd gathered from touring the palaces.
It was a serious bundle.
Can't I just leave it behind?
"It's your first time out, so make sure you don't forget anything. Watch the prices, avoid dark alleys......"
Ah! Please stop! Enough!
What am I, a five-year-old kid?
You've all been holed up on Wudang Mountain forever—nobody knows the world better than me!
He wanted to scream it out, but...... just a bit more endurance, that's all.
"So, Cheongu and Cheongsang are going with you?"
Jinmu replied in a deflated voice to Myeonghyeon, who asked with a pleased expression toward the two prostrated behind him.
"Yes. It just sort of ended up that way."
"That's good. They're sharp lads; they'll be helpful."
"......"
"Well then, off you go. Don't forget the gravity of your mission. Bring no shame to Wudang's name."
"Yes, Sect Leader."
Done. Finally!
Caught in a wave of liberation, he hurriedly gathered his things to leave when Myeonghyeon called him back.
"Jinmu."
Ah, what now!!
"Send word once a day, without fail."
This is exhausting......
"Yes, Sect Leader."
Damn Taoist sect.
Truly terrifying bunch.
To leave one so drained just from the procedures to exit the sect......
Escorted by Jinhyeo and Jinso, under Jinhye's sharp glare, Jinmu finally descended Wudang Mountain.
Passing Sword-Shedding Pool and leaving Wudang territory, he finally felt alive.
The mere absence of that Taoist stench made him feel like he could fly.
'Heh heh heh, how long has it been since I saw the world!'
Jinmu flung off his bundled load, spread his arms wide, closed his eyes, and savored the refreshingly pure air of the world.
"Hoo! Ahh, that's good."
Not just Jinmu—even Cheongu, and Cheongsang, who was always stone-faced, brimmed with excitement.
Alright, shall we get going?
"Cheongu."
"Yes! Martial Uncle."
"Carry this."
"......"
"My stuff."
"......Yes."
Cheongu slung his own pack to the front and hoisted Jinmu's discarded bundle onto his back.
"Cheongsang."
"......"
"Aren't you carrying the sword?"
"Swords must be carried by their owners. As every martial artist knows, the sword is like one's very life......"
What a rigid stickler.
"Wanna head back up?"
Cheongsang faster than lightning slung Jinmu's sword onto his back.
"Alright, let's go!"
Qingyang Merchant Group in Dangkan-gu.
Jinmu, Cheongu, and Cheongsang's first excursion began in high spirits.
From the foot of Wudang Mountain to the Qingyang Merchant Group was just over a hundred li.
On horseback, less than half a day.
But trouble crashed the party right from the start.
"Hey, you there."
"......"
"Taoist punks, hand over everything you've got."
A dozen burly thugs blocked Jinmu's group, spouting a clichéd line he'd heard a thousand times.
Jinmu blinked, momentarily baffled by the scene.
Setting aside the overused dialogue that bordered on stale, this was Wudang Mountain.
Sure, the world had gone mad lately with crazies everywhere, but trying to rob Taoists in Wudang's front yard?
Got some swollen guts?
"Who might you be? You surely recognize Wudang robes—yet you dare block our path on Wudang Mountain."
As Jinmu struggled to hide his incredulity, Cheongsang stepped forward with a fierce glare.
"Our path? What a joke."
"......"
"Hand over everything on your backs while I'm asking nicely. And if you've got any hidden coin pouches, toss those in too—though I doubt it."
He didn't know why these types lurked near Wudang, but they screamed back-alley thugs preying on travelers.
"Sigh, Cheongsang."
"Yes, Martial Uncle!"
"Take care of it. We need to arrive before sunset."
"Understood."
Cheongsang drew his sword with a reliable expression.
"Shall I help?"
Cheongu stepped up, but Jinmu shook his head.
"Just third-rate riffraff. You just carry the stuff."
"......Okay."
As Cheongu pouted and retreated, the standoff between Cheongsang and the thugs began.
"Back off now, and no one gets hurt."
"Hurt? Bullshit. You should've just handed over the goods and scrammed."
The sleazy leader at the front drew a dagger reverse-grip from his bosom.
That was the signal. The dozen thugs grinned viciously, weapons out, fanning out to encircle Cheongsang.
Yes. That's more like it.
Up to now, it had been tediously predictable.
Thugs anywhere acted the same, as if trained by the same master.
"Tch! To commit such audacity on Wudang Mountain!"
"Hah! A dying sect like yours? As if we care!"
Pa-ba-bak!
The leader charged, closing distance fast, lunging at Cheongsang.
The reverse-held dagger slashed horizontally at his face.
Shiiik.
Cheongsang leaned back slightly, stepping one foot behind as the blade whistled past his face.
Then, pivoting, his back kick shot out straight.
The kick following the dagger was clean, but nothing special from a thug.
Without moving his feet, Cheongsang tilted his torso obliquely, jabbing the scabbard's tip.
Thuk!
The scabbard pressed lightly on the thug's Weizhong acupoint behind the knee.
"Aaaak!"
The man crumpled, howling in pain.
Such a sigh-worthy amateur.
What made these losers block Wudang Taoists?
Jinmu shook his head as if they weren't worth the effort.
"You bastard! What are you waiting for? Attack him!"
One down, the rest swarmed like a pack.
Predictable as ever.
Soon enough, they'd all be down, begging mercy from Cheongsang without him even drawing his sword.
Jade Generation Disciples, Wudang's Second Generation.
Lowliest in the sect, but with nearly a decade of grueling training, they were full-fledged martial artists.
Even the weakest among them could devour a county dojo master.
Cheongu alone emanated formless energy.
And Cheongsang?
Infusing qi into the sword—Charged Sword.
Just below sword qi.
Plus, after recently losing to Cheongu, he'd received pointers from Jinmu.
Short time, but his grasp of sword forms had deepened; he was much stronger now.
No match for local third-rate thugs.
C crack! Puk! Pak!
The chaos rang with unceasing thwacks of scabbard on flesh.
Two already down, clutching struck acupoints, writhing on the ground.
Jinmu eyed the attackers closely, just in case.
'Ho, look at these guys?'
Two.
Among the assailants, a couple moved well, hidden in the pack.
Very comfortable with blades. Plenty of experience.
Far stronger than street punks.
But even in concert, Cheongsang edged them out.
Tsk tsk, you won't do......
Sigh......
"Kuhk!"
An odd groan.
Eh? Cheongsang.
Cheongsang staggered back two steps, wounded below the shoulder.
"Senior Brother!"
Jinmu grabbed Cheongu as he startled forward.
Superior skill, yet nicked by a blind swing.
Lack of experience.
Holed up in the mountains honing martial arts to death.
He never imagined it.
Fights with fixed forms differ from real scraps.
These had no set patterns or styles.
Sloppy attacks to hide strength, waiting for an opening.
Until Cheongsang grew complacent in their feeble assault.
The classic mistake of novice martial artists.
Unless overwhelming enough for no variables, even experts fall to a third-rater's hidden blade.
Skill aplenty, but greenness as poison.
Tsk tsk......