Chapter 23
Chapter 23
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: uly
Chapter: 23
Chapter Title: Ambush at No-Moon Tower
-----------------------------------------------------------------
While Jinmu was spending time at the Qingyang Merchant Group.
Wu Clan Lord Wu Munheum was engaged in a secret conversation with Jo Bang in his office.
"Has there been contact from the Qingyang Merchant Group?"
"Yes."
"The preparations?"
"Geumjeoksan said he'll take him out this evening to tour the night market in Danganggu."
"We strike then?"
"Yes. We'll ambush him the moment Geumjeoksan steps away briefly."
"Hm."
Wu Munheum pondered Jo Bang's plan for a moment.
A night market would have plenty of eyes watching.
If a commotion broke out and things went wrong, it could easily lead to problems.
"Our identities must not be exposed."
"That's why we've arranged for the No-Moon Tower by the riverbank and prepared ronin with tight lips."
No-Moon Tower.
It was a quiet tavern removed from the city center—a perfect spot for shady dealings.
"No-Moon Tower. Good. What sort of ronin are they? I heard even the Ten Dams Two Evils got taken down."
"Don't worry. This time, we've lined up some fairly notorious ones. And Gong Sacheok himself is stepping up."
"Gong Sacheok?"
"Yes. Isn't Ipallyong his cousin? When word got out that we're looking for Ipallyong, he reached out directly."
"Tch, how much will he demand this time."
"What choice do we have? This is for the young master to seize Wudang."
"Hm."
Wu Munheum nodded.
"If the ronin fail, his crew will step in directly."
Gong Sacheok was the leader of the Sa-cheok Faction, a notorious gang of thugs around Danganggu.
Even as a back-alley ruffian, he was a master of visible qi who could wield sword aura—a skill that rivaled Wu Munheum's own.
He commanded far more underlings than Ipallyong and was rumored to have ties to the massive unorthodox sect, Black Snake Hall.
"Gong Sacheok should be more than enough, then."
"Of course. Even First Generation Disciples are just green kids without a drop of real blood on their heads. He'll die for sure this time."
"Good. Excellent."
Wu Munheum nodded gravely.
Wudang's First Generation Disciple, Jinmu.
He had to die.
No—he had to be made to die.
Wu Munheum was staking everything on it.
Killing a Wudang disciple was incredibly dangerous.
If mishandled, not only the other First Generation Disciples but even the elders might draw their swords.
If the connection came to light, Gong Sacheok's gang—and the entire Wu Clan—could be wiped out.
But.
The greater the risk, the greater the reward beyond imagination.
Wudang was crumbling.
Taoist Master Myeongjin, crippled and wasting away in a rundown hermitage.
Jinmu had been his Taoist boy, an orphan who lost his entire family to bandits.
On top of that, he'd recently been stirring up trouble by breaking the Wudang Ten Precepts.
A mere First Generation Disciple with decent martial skill would be nothing but a disgrace to Wudang.
No one would even mourn him.
'Yes. No need to worry. The Wu Clan has no connection whatsoever to his death.'
Wu Munheum planned to sweep away Gong Sacheok's gang the moment Jinmu died.
Pile all the blame on the corpse.
It would conclude as rogue unorthodox scum recklessly killing a Wudang disciple.
The Wu Clan would become the avengers of the Wudang disciple, and Jinhye would rise ever higher to the top of Wudang.
"It will succeed. I stake the future of the Wu Clan on it!"
Wu Munheum clenched his fist as if vowing to himself.
Night fell over Danganggu.
True to its fame as a renowned river port in the Central Plains, the Danganggu riverbank blazed like a city that never slept as darkness deepened.
Shops shuttered by day flung open their doors, hanging red lanterns from every eaves as women in sheer silk robes tempted passersby.
"Handsome sir, ahn, I'll treat you right~."
Courtesans from the red-light district, their translucent robes revealing soft skin beneath, wrapped manicured hands around arms with heavily made-up faces.
"Hngh!"
"Ahem!"
Unlike Jinmu, Cheongu and Cheongsang—following behind Geumjeoksan—flushed crimson, unsure where to direct their bulging eyes.
They might dress as Taoist priests in their robes, but they were still Second Generation Disciples, not yet seasoned enough to withstand a woman's scent.
They were at the age when blood ran hottest, after all.
"Oh my, priests?"
"Priests for the first time?"
The courtesans focused on Jinmu's group entering the red-light district behind Geumjeoksan.
"Young priests~!"
One sidled up softly, linking arms and pressing her breasts against him. Cheongu snorted hot breaths through flared nostrils.
"L-let go. Why, why are you doing this?"
"Oh? Look at those thick, sturdy arms. Come on, hm? Sis will take good care of you."
The more he tried to pull away, the more she coiled around him like a snake.
"Ah, no."
Well, well.
Cheongu wore a troubled expression.
But Jinmu saw it—the way his flushed face and slyly gleaming eyes betrayed his enjoyment even as he pretended to refuse.
This punk's loving it.
Jinmu shot Cheongu a narrowed glance and smirked.
"S-sa-sasuk, that's not—"
No it's not, you punk. You think I don't know your strength?
"Taoist Master Jinmu must have truly deep cultivation."
Unlike Cheongu or Cheongsang, Jinmu's face showed not a hint of fluster. Geumjeoksan looked impressed.
"Would a mountain hermit chase after women's scents?"
At Jinmu's faintly aloof demeanor, Cheongsang—shaking off his own clinging women—gazed at him with growing admiration in his eyes.
Sasuk truly is remarkable. His speech and actions are so bold, yet he's utterly detached in a situation like this. Following him was the right choice.
Contrary to Cheongsang's thoughts, Jinmu was simply used to it.
To him, who had lived among beauties fit to topple nations as the Sovereign of the Evil Hegemony Heaven, what was this mere whiff of perfume?
He had once dwelt amid wine pools and meat forests.
And spent time with the brazen women of the Evil Hegemony Heaven's Bliss Palace, who paraded naked even in broad daylight.
"Cheongsang."
"Yes, sasuk."
"Untangle your arm."
"……."
Cheongsang was no different from Cheongu.
Flushed cheeks and lips nearly splitting with a grin.
This punk's enjoying it too...
"……Yes."
Cheongsang slowly(?) peeled away from the courtesans, face full of regret.
"Cheongu! You brat, how can a priest—!"
Even then, he didn't forget to scold Cheongu.
You're the worse one, you punk.
"Haha, oh dear, oh dear. Seems we've taken a wrong turn. It's just such a familiar shortcut for us."
Geumjeoksan laughed with exaggerated apology.
As if.
He'd clearly chosen the path straight through the red-light district on purpose.
There were five escorts flanking him alone.
If he'd truly meant to be considerate, he'd have blocked the courtesans from approaching, route be damned.
He wanted to rattle their souls.
And if he caught even one weakness, they'd be easier to handle.
Jinmu's group followed Geumjeoksan through the heart of the red-light district to a quiet tavern right on the river.
No-Moon—a place without moonlight.
Plenty of nice spots around, so why here?
Once suspicion took root, it spread endlessly.
Though he showed nothing outwardly, Jinmu hadn't missed even the smallest twitch of Geumjeoksan's fingers.
"This is the only place in Danganggu handling grain wine fit for esteemed Taoist masters, so I apologize for the roundabout way."
Yeah, sure. As if.
It was so obviously contrived that Jinmu let out an involuntary sigh.
Grain wine fit for priests? Worthless nonsense.
For starters, the tavern's location lived up to its name—remote enough that a murder inside wouldn't draw notice.
Schemes had their levels of sophistication.
If Geumjeoksan was plotting something, this was amateurish and reeked of cheapness anyone could spot.
Of course, Cheongsang and Cheongu seemed oblivious.
"We are grateful for the Clan Lord's consideration."
"Please, come in."
Pulling aside the entry curtain revealed the interior, where an elderly owner—too deaf and ancient to hear well—greeted them.
"Welcome."
"From the Qingyang Merchant Group. I reserved a private room in advance."
"Ah, you're the Clan Lord?"
Geumjeoksan nodded to the old man straining to hear.
"This way……."
The old man bowed and led the direction.
"I figured drawing eyes wouldn't be ideal……."
Geumjeoksan smiled, explaining every needless action.
The tavern was dead quiet, flies buzzing idly. Nothing worth notice.
Yet guiding them to a private room suggested secretive talk.
Or definite scheming.
"Once more, our thanks for the Clan Lord's consideration."
Jinmu offered hollow courtesy and followed Geumjeoksan up to the second floor, where the private room awaited.
A short, dwarfish man waited to guide the guests.
"Right this way."
Jinmu's eyes gleamed as he eyed the man's polite bow.
Ho? What's this?
The man's hands, politely folded at his waist. Not the hands of a tavern servant.
Hidden by long sleeves, but the prominent calluses on his knuckle joints were unmistakable.
A seasoned fighter.
But Jinmu betrayed nothing.
No need to show suspicion until he knew the full scheme.
With one corner of his mouth curled, Jinmu stepped into the open private room.
"Whoa!"
Cheongu gaped wide-eyed in astonishment.
The room brimmed with a lavish spread of delicacies from land and sea.
Four courtesans to pour wine.
And two musicians with flute and pipa to heighten the mood, striking up a soft melody the moment the group entered.
"Please, sit."
"Yes."
Geumjeoksan took the seat of honor, with Jinmu, Cheongsang, and Cheongu settling around him. The courtesans approached to fill their cups.
Ah, they really can't even pretend properly.
He couldn't unsee it.
The two types of wine the courtesans had just poured.
The hue in Geumjeoksan's cup differed subtly from those in Jinmu's group.
Subtly enough to go unnoticed.
And just as the meal was about to begin, Chief Steward Ichiseong of the Qingyang Merchant Group burst in—looking for all the world like he'd been waiting for this exact moment.
How perfectly timed.
Not a deviation from the expected script.
And Geumjeoksan's intent was becoming clear.
"Clan Lord."
"Ahem, Chief Steward. How dare you make a fuss with guests present?"
"My apologies. It's urgent."
"What could be so—"
"The County Magistrate is summoning you."
"What? The Magistrate?"
The County Magistrate was the highest official governing Danganggu.
"Yes. Seems there's an issue with the goods we supplied to the office last time."
"What? Damn it!"
Geumjeoksan turned gravely to Jinmu.
"My deepest apologies……."
"It's fine. Seems urgent."
"Thank you for understanding. I'll return shortly."
"Don't worry."
"Then."
Geumjeoksan bowed politely and exited.
His footsteps faded quickly—he'd hurried out of the tavern.
Jinmu had expected some ploy, but not this blatant.
Geumjeoksan abandoning his guests.
A remote outpost practically deserted.
The battle-hardened man greeting them inside.
Well, damn. Pulling out all the stops.