Chapter 19
Chapter 19
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 19
Chapter Title: Zhuge Clan's Scrutiny
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The second floor of Haewol Pavilion, where a feast of meat was in full swing.
Unlike the noisy first floor, the atmosphere here was remarkably quiet.
The only guests were a group of scholars occupying a large table.
However, the only one seated at the table was a fresh-faced young scholar who looked barely in his twenties, while the rest simply stood behind him.
What was unusual was that, despite their scholar attire, they all carried ornate white swords etched with intricate patterns slung across their backs.
They were members of the Zhuge Family, who had established their base at the foot of Yungzhong Mountains and dominated the interests of northern Hubei Province.
"Those fellows who just left... they look familiar."
A scholar wearing a green robe and a black square scholar's cap asked this while busily working his chopsticks over the side dishes.
"They are subordinates from Wu Manor."
A middle-aged scholar with a neatly trimmed mustache answered immediately and posed a question in return.
"Shall we check why they've come to Bangcheon?"
"No need. What does it matter what riffraff from Wu Manor get up to?"
The square-capped scholar shook his head, and the middle-aged scholar respectfully withdrew.
Oddly enough, despite the clear difference in apparent ages, it was the older ones who were exceedingly deferential.
Age? Skill?
Such things were irrelevant.
It was an insurmountable gap in status.
The young scholar was a scion of the Zhuge branch family in Dangkan Valley, one of the five branch families of the Zhuge Family, and the middle-aged man was his bodyguard.
The Zhuge Family of this era had its main house centered in Yungzhong Mountains, with roots extending to five locations in Hubei: Dangkan Valley, Yangyang, Yichang, Wuchang, and beyond.
One might scoff at it being merely a branch family, but the Zhuge Family had endured for dozens of generations.
The main house in Yungzhong went without saying, but even the Zhuge branch in Dangkan had a history of over a century.
Including direct and collateral lines, there were over a hundred bearing the Zhuge name alone, and when adding affiliated warriors, scholars, retainers, and laborers, the number exceeded a thousand.
It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say Dangkan Valley itself was the Zhuge Family.
The young scholar's name was Zhuge Geun.
He was the second son of the head of the Dangkan branch of the Zhuge Family.
His prestige in Dangkan Valley as a direct blood relative was beyond words.
The reason he had appeared in Bangcheon County was a so-called inspection of their sphere of influence.
And in the midst of that, he had spotted Jinmu and his group.
"It's been a while since we've seen Wudang Taoists, hasn't it?"
Zhuge Geun glanced toward the floor below with evident interest.
"Yes. They've been in seclusion at the heart of the Nine Great Sects since that incident."
The mustachioed bodyguard, Bang Gahu, replied respectfully once more.
"But do Wudang folk eat meat?"
"......"
"And drink alcohol, no less?"
At Zhuge Geun's words, Bang Gahu sneered at Jinmu downing his liquor and at Cheongu and Cheongsang, who were already on their tenth serving of meat and had the innkeeper's face twisted in distress.
"Isn't it a sect on its last legs? Judging by their age, they're Second Generation Jade Generation Disciples. If the juniors are like that, no need to see the seniors to know what they're like."
"The seniors, huh..."
Zhuge Geun briefly recalled those seniors.
The True Generation and the Myeong Generation.
Many among them had once shaken the Central Plains martial world.
He had heard and memorized countless tales of Wudang's masters who had vied for control of Hubei, so Zhuge Geun couldn't possibly be ignorant.
That they had changed?
And thus grown weak?
Wudang had endured a millennium. Change didn't erase their power and traditions.
They had merely shrunk in scale.
So what issue could there be with them openly enjoying meat and liquor at an inn?
Outward changes were mere distortions from the standards imposed by the world.
The soul remained unchanged.
That was Zhuge Geun's belief.
And yet...
'Wudang has appeared in Dangkan Valley.'
Zhuge Geun's eyes narrowed as he stared at Jinmu's group.
Even holed up in the mountains, Wudang was still a tiger.
A starving tiger, at that.
And there was only one reason such a tiger left its den: to hunt for prey.
"Gahu."
"Yes, young master."
"We need to find out if those are tigers or mere cubs."
"Pardon?"
Bang Gahu tilted his head at Zhuge Geun's words before grasping the meaning. Probe their skills through a minor altercation.
"Shall I go myself?"
"Even at best, Second Generation would be at the Pure Sword realm, second-rate at most. With your Manifest Qi attainment, you can test them without injury."
Bang Gahu nodded lightly at Zhuge Geun's low murmur and descended the stairs.
It had to be a test, nothing excessive.
Similar skill levels could escalate troubles, so someone of Bang Gahu's caliber was needed to appropriately humiliate and subdue them.
Zhuge Geun pretended to sip his drink while watching Jinmu's group below.
"Heh heh, what brings Wudang Taoists to a place like this?"
"......"
Cheongu and Cheongsang halted their meat-stuffed hands at Bang Gahu's sudden approach.
"I am Bang Gahu of the Dangkan Zhuge branch family."
"And?"
While Cheongsang and Cheongu stared blankly with grease-smeared lips, Jinmu took the conversation.
Bang Gahu inwardly faltered. It was an unexpected response.
And...?
Normally, wouldn't the reply be something like, 'We are so-and-so of Wudang'? Wasn't that basic etiquette?
"So what?"
"......"
As Bang Gahu floundered in surprise, Jinmu irritably slammed down his cup.
"We're eating. If you have no business, scram."
Scram?
It grew more absurd by the moment.
How could a Taoist's eloquence rival that of a street thug?
His speech and expression made it believable he'd stolen a Taoist robe and hat from some hapless victim.
"I said scram."
What kind of maniacs were these?
Though rattled by Jinmu's bluntness, Bang Gahu masked his expression with a smile.
"The four seas are brothers, as they say. Out of my longstanding respect for Wudang, I thought to share a drink..."
Jinmu glanced upstairs and chuckled.
"Damn, you're really going all out. Offering to buy booze for Taoists?"
"......"
"It's obvious what crap you're up to. Nice try, you lot."
"W-what?"
Bang Gahu winced and flushed like a maiden whose secrets were exposed at Jinmu's outright mockery.
But Jinmu couldn't help sneering.
He didn't care about others' stares, but he wasn't oblivious to his surroundings.
He had lived as an unorthodox warrior for years.
Even as the Lord of Evil Hegemony Heaven, supreme in the unorthodox world, his life had been targeted dozens of times.
The only year without brushes with death was his time at Wudang.
In the mountains, there was no need for vigilance, but outside was different.
He'd already been ambushed once.
Since entering the inn, Jinmu had instinctively scanned his surroundings.
The guests who had cursed them.
The beady-eyed group that had slipped out with furtive glances.
And those upstairs stealing peeks at them.
Among them, the upstairs group grated most on his nerves.
Just as Jinmu's group announced themselves Wudang disciples through their robes, their attire screamed Zhuge Family.
The Zhuge Family, historic rivals to Wudang over Hubei. And one of them approached.
With the laughable excuse of buying them drinks.
"What a clown. If you want to check something, come down yourself instead of sending a lackey."
"L-lackey?"
As Bang Gahu gaped in disbelief, Jinmu turned fully to face Zhuge Geun, legs spread wide, elbows on knees, torso leaned forward—a perfect back-alley hoodlum.
"H-hey, your words..."
"Forget it. I'll say it again: scram. If you want to try something, go ahead."
As the situation turned peculiar, Cheongu gauged the mood, while Cheongsang prepared to stand with a sharp glare.
"This insolent..."
"What? You wanna pick a fight with the Zhuge Family?"
"......"
"I just said it for you, but no need to thank me."
"......"
"Cheongsang."
"Yes."
"This gentleman is curious about your skills."
Cheongsang was already on his feet.
Unlike the blockheaded Cheongu, he was quick on the uptake. He knew exactly what to do from the unfolding scene.
"Don't pull any more dumb stunts like before, or you're dead."
"No worries."
As Cheongsang stepped forward with resolute eyes, Bang Gahu glanced upstairs in bewilderment.
'Fool, they've stolen the initiative.'
Zhuge Geun's eyes subtly shifted.
Not content with meat and booze, they spoke like third-rate thugs.
Unusual Taoists.
Nothing like the Wudang disciples he knew.
Zhuge Geun met Jinmu's gaze squarely and smiled.
'From the talk, at least a wolf cub. Wonder about the bite.'
But this worked out better.
No need for roundabout maneuvers; they grasped his intent and acted, making skill assessment easier.
Zhuge Geun nodded, and Bang Gahu turned back with a sinister grin.
"For Wudang Taoists, that's a foul mouth. Hope your skills match it."
Bang Gahu clenched his fist and stepped back slightly, prompting Jinmu's smirk.
Quick to switch stances.
"Hey. What're you doing?"
"......?"
"Our Cheongsang only uses the sword."
Cheongsang already gripped his sheathed sword.
Bang Gahu grew increasingly confused.
Really, what manner of freaks were these?
He glanced at Zhuge Geun again, who merely grinned amusedly.
But Bang Gahu didn't draw his sword.
He'd heard "Cheongsang."
As expected, just a Second Generation Disciple from Wudang.
Though bodyguard to Zhuge Geun, Bang Gahu was among the top experts of the Dangkan Zhuge branch.
No way he'd draw against a mere Second Generation out of pride. Bare hands would suffice.
"Tch, you'll regret that..."
Jinmu chuckled at the sight.
It was Cheongsang, not Cheongu.
He was one of the most outstanding among Second Generation Disciples.
Still at Pure Sword realm, but teach one thing and he'd grasp ten. Geniuses grew by leaps with mere sparks.
After sparring Cheongu, he'd diligently worked on Flowing Cloud Sword Art's flaws and achieved some success.
Gradually breaking free from rigid forms.
Having been thoroughly trounced earlier, he wouldn't act rashly.
He'd analyze precisely, find openings, and attack relentlessly.
That was how Jinmu had taught him, and what he'd experienced.
And crucially, Bang Gahu was underestimating Cheongsang.
Underestimation meant not showing full ability. That arrogance would create gaps, and if not missed...
'Cheongsang wins.'
Jinmu grinned slyly and pointed.
"Cheongsang! Go!"
Pak!
With the shout, Cheongsang lunged, closing distance, thrusting his sword straight at Bang Gahu's solar plexus.
No frills, concise and swift, unburdened by variations.
A mutation of Flowing Cloud Sword Art, flowing like clouds.
The sword from Cheongsang's hand followed Flowing Cloud's path, but transformed—not drifting clouds, but lightning darting within.
"Hup!"
Caught off-guard by the speed, Bang Gahu twisted away.
Cheongsang's sword didn't miss, flowing leisurely to his left flank in two prongs.
Aiming simultaneously for neck and waist.
Bang Gahu swallowed empty air.
But he was a seasoned expert who'd eaten his share of steel in the jianghu.
Regaining composure, he whipped his hand backhand to smack the sword tip.
Clang!
With a harsh metallic ring, Bang Gahu's counter began.
Dodging the sword's defensive arc, he pressed Cheongsang with fists and feet.
It seemed Cheongsang was on the defensive, but his face remained calm.
Observing.
Cheongsang narrowly evaded fists and kicks, scrutinizing Bang Gahu's movements.
First, footwork.
Which foot launched which punch, at what angle—he memorized without missing.
Grazing blows left stings, but off-marks meant no major impact.
Yet in absolute skill, Cheongsang was inferior. He knew it too.
However...
'Ho?'
Jinmu's eyes gleamed watching the bout.
'Well now? He's gotten sneakier.'
The motion of the sword-gripping hand.
Cheongsang was deliberately exposing the Flowing Cloud Sword Art flaw he'd already corrected.