CHAPTER 76: The Meaning of the Clan
Thwack!
Jin Muhon lightly shook his wrist, flinging off Muheo's hand.
Even so, Muheo's eyes still brimmed with emotion and excitement, like a starving man staring at a feast laid out before him.
"Wh-what do you mean by that? Me... marriage?!"
In stark contrast, Palace Lord Buso-yong was visibly flustered, even stumbling over her words.
Jin Muhon looked at her with a face that said, What's the problem?
"I understand you haven't held your wedding rites yet. Or am I wrong?"
"That's true. But do you know how old I am?"
"What does age matter? The moment you appear in the jianghu, there'd be no shortage of young experts whose hearts would waver."
"No, it's not about that..."
Smack!
Jin Muhon lightly slapped his thigh.
"I see. So you've got someone else in mind. In that case, marriage won't be easy."
"...!"
With every word from Jin Muhon, Muheo and Buso-yong's expressions swung wildly between heaven and hell.
"No! It's not that either! Look, setting everything else aside—what do I gain from marrying this old geezer? I want to ally with the Jin family, not get involved with the Wudang Sect."
"Hmm. So that's your concern..."
Jin Muhon nodded and turned his gaze to Muheo.
Muheo swallowed dryly, his face tense.
"Muheo."
"Y-yeah?"
Muheo blinked like an idiot.
But he knew it too.
This was a once-in-a-lifetime chance.
His fate would hinge on what he said next.
"Are you a Wudang man, or a Jin family man?"
"I... I'm..."
Muheo couldn't answer right away, trailing off.
In that instant, memories of his time at Wudang flashed through his mind like a lantern show: climbing Wudang Mountain clutching his master's hand with snot running down his nose, the rough-and-tumble days training the sword with his senior brothers.
Most of them had left this world now, and even those who remained had no need for him.
Is that how it is...
Muheo slowly shifted his gaze.
Jin Hayeon sat quietly beside Jin Muhon, smiling softly.
She was the only one in the whole world who welcomed him.
In that moment, the realization hit him: he'd lived his life wondering why, but now he knew—there was no place left for him to rest easy except the Jin family.
Only then did Muheo meet Jin Muhon's eyes with unwavering conviction.
"Wudang may be my sect, but I'm a Jin family man through and through."
"I see."
Jin Muhon nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Seeing that, Muheo turned to Buso-yong with even greater certainty.
"Palace Lord! Truth is, my family name is Jin! I'm Jin Muheo! The family head is Jin Muhon—we share the 'Mu' generation name!"
Jin Muhon chuckled softly.
Buso-yong's eyes widened as she stammered.
"Wh-what nonsense is..."
Before Muheo could spout more nonsense, Jin Muhon spoke up.
"Palace Lord. As the old man says, he's undeniably one of our Jin family. I don't believe a clan has to share blood to matter. If we see each other as family, isn't that what makes a clan?"
"That's..."
Buso-yong looked at Jin Muhon with confused eyes.
Jin Muhon smiled faintly.
"No need to overthink it. Look at the person."
"The person?"
"Most of the so-called upright folks I've met are two-faced. Muheo is no different on the surface."
"......"
Buso-yong clamped her mouth shut, while Muheo's eyes bulged.
"Huh? Me too? I'm two-faced?"
Ignoring Muheo, Jin Muhon stared straight at Buso-yong.
"Muheo's no looker. Small eyes, flat nose, short stature."
"Uh... Family Head?"
"But inside, he's manlier than anyone, knows righteousness, and keeps his loyalties. Ugly on the outside, but finer than most on the inside."
"F-Family Head!!"
Tears welled in Muheo's eyes.
Was the Sword Demon going mad today? He'd moved him to tears multiple times already.
Even Buso-yong nodded slightly.
"That much... I already know."
Muheo's eyes widened in shock.
Blood rushed to his head, threatening to burst.
"Then! Why'd you reject me back then?!"
"......"
Maybe he should've kept his mouth shut.
Jin Hayeon, who had been watching excitedly, let out a quiet sigh.
Buso-yong furrowed her brow and glared at Muheo.
"You crazy old coot. You think I'd accept a sudden confession in front of hundreds of young experts watching?"
"Uh... Th-that was the problem? Not because I'm ugly?"
"Of course I rejected you because you're ugly. How can someone your age lack any sense?"
"......"
Buso-yong clicked her tongue in clear displeasure.
Muheo couldn't grasp what was in her heart at all.
"Then... back then... if I'd confessed somewhere private, without anyone else..."
"Hmph! Even a ugly old coot like you has to lose your mind properly."
As if she had nothing more to say, Buso-yong whipped her head away.
Muheo blinked and scratched his head.
Still, she wasn't as cold as before.
For now, that was a huge change to him.
"Think it over carefully, Palace Lord."
"......"
There was no reply.
Even to Jin Muhon's question, Buso-yong kept her gaze fixed out the carriage window.
Silence settled over the carriage.
Clop. Clop. Clop.
Jin Muhon's group arrived in Sesung.
Tomorrow, they'd reach Hefei, where the Murim Conference would soon convene.
With time to spare before the event, they unpacked at an inn on Sesung's main street.
Creeeak.
Muheo pulled out a chair and wiped it down with his sleeve.
"Palace Lord! Sit here!"
"......"
Jin Muhon and Jin Hayeon stared at him in bewilderment.
Surprisingly, Buso-yong sat down on the chair he'd pulled out, her expression icy.
"...!"
"...!"
Even her disciples flinched, their veils trembling.
Who was their master?
Buso-yong, lord of Okhwa Palace: outwardly beautiful, but cold enough not to bleed even if stabbed.
She showed no kindness to anyone, nor received any.
Yet here she was, yielding space to an ugly old man.
Normally, she'd have drawn her sword by now, like when she'd chased off a palanquin bearer.
"Lady Cheong-a, Lady Hong-a. Come sit over here."
"Ah, yes."
"Thank you."
Jin Hayeon awkwardly addressed Buso-yong's two disciples, who stood hesitant.
But they glanced at Jin Muhon and stayed put.
Is one of these two really going to be my aunt?
Jin Hayeon's heart fluttered with mixed feelings, but she treated them warmly first.
Fortunately, the pair known as Hongcheong were gentle and kind, unlike their master.
Pretty faces, good family, young too... Sigh. Sorry, Unni.
An image of Han Sowol flashed through Jin Hayeon's mind.
Sorry as she felt, even if she were a man, she'd probably prefer Hongcheong over Han Sowol.
Creeeak. Thud.
"......"
But her aloof uncle didn't spare them a glance, sitting alone.
His way with women was hopeless.
Muheo was a hundred times better in that regard.
"Sigh... Let's sit too."
"Yes."
And so, Jin Muhon's group settled into a corner of the inn.
Hongcheong—and even Buso-yong—wore veils in crowded places like this.
Even so, their beauty seeped through, drawing furtive glances from every guest in the inn.
—Who are they? That bearing screams top-tier beauties.
—Ah... I can smell their fragrance from here. I'd have no regrets hugging a woman like that once.
—Someone rip off those veils.
The lecherous men gained confidence looking at Jin Muhon and Muheo.
Muheo looked too frail to catch a chicken, and Jin Muhon—with his face altered by disguise arts—resembled a sickly scholar.
"The bold man claims the beauty. Watch."
Finally, one man shoved back his chair and stood.
No matter how rowdy the inn, Jin Muhon's group couldn't miss their crude talk.
As Muheo scowled and rose to greet the man—
Creeeak.
The inn door swung open, and a man strode in.
A savage face scarred horizontally, left sleeve flapping empty. Sword at his waist marked him as no ordinary swordsman.
His presence silenced the room momentarily, drawing all eyes.
"......"
Oepari, having stabled the carriage, scanned the inn for Jin Muhon.
The men who'd just ogled Okhwa Palace's beauties with filth dropped their gazes upon meeting Oepari's eyes.
"Ah, there you are."
Spotting Jin Muhon, Oepari strode over purposefully.
The man heading toward Jin Muhon's table stood awkwardly in his path.
Oepari loomed before him.
Already frozen by the sudden arrival, the man stared up with trembling pupils.
"Wh-what do you want?"
"Move, punk. Unless you wanna get sliced."
The man flinched but mustered courage thinking of the beauties watching from behind.
"F-for a stranger, that's too much—"
Thud!
Oepari's knee slammed straight into the man's groin.
"Gaaack!!"
The man foamed at the mouth and crumpled to the floor.
Oepari spat phlegm with a hack, then kicked his gut.
"Fucking bastard. Picking fights? How many lives you got?"
"Ughhh..."
Having been a notable thug himself in his day, Oepari instantly clocked the man's intentions.
Then, Jin Muhon spoke lowly.
"Oepari."
"Yes! Family Head!"
Oepari straightened and bowed deeply to Jin Muhon.
"Don't bully the weak. Sit down."
"Yes! Family Head!"
Oepari plopped into an empty seat.
No one paid the fallen man any mind.
Instead, the inn's attention shifted elsewhere.
—Family Head? Who's that? Never seen the face.
—With beauties and a swordsman like that, can't be some nobody clan.
—Maybe... from the Four Emperors Alliance?
—Four Emperors? Didn't that collapse ages ago?
—Dunno. Word is the old Four Emperors sects recently held a gathering. That one-armed guy and the 'Family Head' look suspicious. Worth checking out.
—Hmm...
With the Murim Conference approaching, heavyweights were trickling into Hefei.
A few had mixed into the inn.
The mood suggested trouble was inevitable.
Perfect.
Unlike Jin Hayeon, who scanned the room worriedly, Jin Muhon was pleased.
He'd been itching to test the Divide Soul insights from his fight with Ma-seon.
This was just the opportunity.
Jin Muhon swept his finger over a cup of water, deploying Divide Soul.
He handed the water—now laced with a fragment of his soul—to Oepari.
"Drink."
"Pardon?"
Not liquor, but water out of nowhere—Oepari blinked in confusion at Jin Muhon.
"I said drink."
"Ah! Yes!"
Oepari gulped it down in one go.
"Buuuurp."
Everyone watched curiously, expecting something, but Oepari just let out a long belch.
"Ahem! Hm!"
Then, a cough came from behind Oepari.
Oepari turned.
A sharply dressed middle-aged man glared down at the group with piercing eyes.
"I am Yuil-do, the Great Hero of Jiangnan. Where do you hail from?"
"......"
The inn buzzed as the man revealed his title.
Evidently a local celebrity.
But his 'great hero' moniker rang hollow as his eyes flicked lecherously toward Okhwa Palace's women.
More interested in fresh meat than honor.
Jin Muhon spoke lowly.
"Oepari. Clear him out."
"Yes!"
Oepari scowled and rose slowly.
Yuil-do, who fancied himself a swordsman of note, stepped back at the aura.
"I asked politely for your identity. Are you picking a fight?"
"You started the shit, punk. Get lost!"
"How dare you! Such insult! I can't let this slide! Draw your sword!"
Oepari grinned.
"Here? Or outside?"
"Hmph. Outside."
"Fine."
Yuil-do stormed out, huffing.
Oepari glanced at Jin Muhon and bowed awkwardly.
"Then, Family Head. I'll be back."
"Go. Hey—waiter! Taking orders or what?!"
Jin Muhon called the waiter.
The waiter, who'd watched from afar, scurried over.
Oepari's face drained of color—he'd gone out trusting only Jin Muhon.
"F-Family Head?"
Jin Muhon eyed him.
"Why're you still standing? Waiting for the Great Hero?"
"B-but... he seemed like a real expert..."
"So are you. Go."
"...Yes."
In the end, Oepari turned and shuffled out slowly.
His face was that of a condemned man marching to the execution ground.