Chapter 41
Chapter 41
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 41
Chapter Title: Feast of the Gods
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Perhaps because mealtime hadn't ended yet, none of the disciples reciting sutras or leading the rites were in sight.
For Han Ibi, that was a stroke of luck.
Gaudy, vibrant decorations caught his eye.
Placards hung on ropes by common folk during pilgrimage season.
Han Ibi pushed through them.
There sat a statue, and without a backward glance, he ducked behind it.
Soon, the clamor of Seong Chun-don and his crew rumbled in.
"Where'd that bastard go? Come out now!"
"I saw the Qingcheng robes plain as day."
Shouting wildly, they began ransacking the Upper Purity Palace.
Even the spot where Han Ibi hid came under search.
But fortunately, they didn't inspect the statue thoroughly.
Seong Chun-don's group scoured the palace for quite a while but found nothing.
Hyeon Jin-gi spoke up.
"Looks like he slipped away."
Han Ibi peeked out just a bit to watch them.
Seong Chun-don replied.
"Yeah."
But his demeanor seemed unnatural, like he was putting on a show.
A ploy to lure him out, no doubt.
They shuffled back outside in a herd.
Han Ibi held his breath, still hiding.
About half an hour passed.
Seong Chun-don's group reentered, grumbling.
"Damn it. Guess he really bolted."
"Who the hell was it?"
Seong Chun-don said.
"Got a suspect in mind... but if it's him, no big deal... Alright, let's head back!"
Finally, he could see them truly leaving.
'Phew.'
Han Ibi let out a silent sigh of relief as he stepped out.
Those fluttering ropes from before.
Each placard bore prayers for family safety and prosperity.
Han Ibi mused.
'Might as well look around more. Too soon to head down and risk getting spotted.'
He glanced back at his hiding spot.
A kindly old grandfather statue.
'Ah, the pinnacle of Taoism, Laozi himself. These so-called Taoists avoid their own shrine? Something's gotta be fishy.'
Next to it stood Guan Yu, long beard flowing, eyes wide and fierce.
'Wonder if Guan Yu practiced martial arts. Top external arts master, maybe? Anyway, curious what other gods are here.'
Then his eyes landed on a figure holding what looked like a gourd.
'What's that? God of wine like Bacchus?'
But up close, Han Ibi was disappointed.
'Nah... not booze, a doctor.'
Indeed, a medicine vial.
The statue was Sun Simiao, the Sui-Tang era physician revered as the Medicine King.
'Anything else fun?'
Han Ibi poked around more, but his scant knowledge of Chinese history limited him.
'Worshipping people as gods... Chinese folks have this unique arrogance.'
The sacred Upper Purity Palace soon felt mundane after a short wander.
'Hmm... time to go. Should be safe now... Huh? What's that?'
A peculiar sight entered Han Ibi's view.
An utterly ordinary room.
Han Ibi headed that way.
'Waiting room or something?'
Prime gods like the Supreme Venerable Sovereign and Guan Yu had placards galore.
But this place...
'Wait, a statue here too. Is it really a god...?'
It felt untouched for ages.
'Tucked in the corner?'
Curiosity piqued, Han Ibi drew closer to inspect the statue.
'Whoa! This is wild. A god like that? Taoism's mysteries never cease.'
Indeed.
A bizarre figure for a god.
Astonishingly, it bore a palanquin on its back.
'And carrying it solo?'
The white-bearded, bald old god hoisted the palanquin with a solemn yet strained expression.
The inscription read: Step King Hong Pang-nam.
'Step King? Master of strides? Now there's a god of walking?'
Han Ibi couldn't help chuckling inwardly.
Makes sense, though—these legendary deified figures excelled in their domains.
Modern terms: top pros in their fields.
So, supreme walker ascends to immortal via footsteps.
Han Ibi suddenly stared at the old man's face, alone with his burden.
Though carved from faded wood, its eyes seemed to gaze back alive.
As if entranced, Han Ibi approached the Step King statue.
He said.
"Need a hand?"
Perhaps projecting pity for his own loser status in both worlds.
Half reverent, half playful, Han Ibi circled behind and mimed lifting the palanquin.
Meant as pretend, but he unwittingly hefted it for real.
Then.
Clunk!
A noise from behind the chair inside the palanquin.
Han Ibi tilted his head, shrugged off the shoulder strap, and approached.
The rear panel was ajar.
Just bigger than a mouse hole.
'What the...?'
Intrigued, Han Ibi reached for the gap.
Voices murmuring at the Upper Purity Palace entrance.
Lunchtime over.
Qingcheng disciples returning, surely.
Han Ibi swiftly snatched the oil-paper-wrapped book from the hole.
Tucked it into his bosom casually, then strolled toward the exit as if nothing happened.
Two young Taoists chatting noisily fell silent at his sudden appearance.
The disciples eyed this outsider suspiciously—why leave the shrine now?
Han Ibi acted all the more innocent.
"Ah, so this is the Central Plains treasure, the Taoist pinnacle, Upper Purity Palace on Qingcheng Mountain. Truly the sight of sights, auspicious energies piercing the heavens!"
One disciple puffed up at the praise.
"Hmph! Only now you see? Wudang or Mount Jiuhua may boast, but they can't touch our Qingcheng. Wudang's full of fake Taoists good only for brawling, Jiuhua packed with bookworms who just do rituals."
Han Ibi beamed.
"Today I finally get it. Wow, what a place! Upper Purity Palace—cool name too!"
The other, watching sourly, snapped.
"Shrine's not open to outsiders now. Wandering like this breaks sect rules. First offense forgiven as ignorance, but do it again and we'll report to our master."
Han Ibi bowed hastily.
"My apologies! But we're all sharing the same pot, right? Won't happen again."
The Taoist nodded, satisfied.
Han Ibi thought.
'This punk. Barely grown, acting like an old fogey... Qingcheng's stiff lot are hopeless. Hopeless...'
He hurried past the grand gate toward Qingcheng Sect grounds.
Still, good mood.
Unexpected windfall.
True to a famed clan's lightness skill, Zhongli Swift Leopard Step excelled in speed and efficiency.
But in combat, it lacked finesse, causing issues.
'In wuxia novels, footwork's the protagonist's bonus skill. Can't miss it!'
Han Ibi resolved to master this manual in secret.
'Who hid it in that obscure god's palanquin? Step King's long dead... Maybe a secret disciple...'
Too bothersome to ponder.
'Whatever. Wuxia doesn't need logic. Learn it, use it well. Thanks, Step King! As a god, you'll hear. I'll put it to good use, keep it safe. Haha.'
Han Ibi stayed alert for Seong Chun-don's gang.
Better climb the normal path—they might linger.
The next day, Han Ibi rose at dawn.
Eager to study his new footwork in some quiet spot, he got an early start for once.
But as the saying goes, bad luck on market day.
He ran smack into Bok Yeon-hwa walking with Soeun-ri.
How'd this granny get here so fast?
Felt pressure to play it cool.
"Ah, Elder! Hope your trip was—"
But Bok Yeon-hwa glanced coldly and walked on without a word.
(To be continued...)