Chapter 135
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 135
Chapter Title: Green Forest King (1)
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Ever since the Zhuge Clan put forth their negotiation proposal, it had been expected that they would find some compromise. Yet the situation was deteriorating in ways no one had anticipated.
The Green Forest King demanded an official apology and compensation.
These were terms the Zhuge Clan could not accept. They couldn't even offer a formal apology, let alone pay reparations. Doing so would mean bowing their heads to bandits. For a prestigious clan of the righteous faction to beg forgiveness from thieves—what a symbolic blow that would be.
The Zhuge Clan rejected it outright.
In truth, they had no choice. Any hesitation would create the impression that they feared the Green Forest bandits.
In the meantime, bandits targeting the Zhuge Clan began openly plundering. Setting aside other merchant groups and sects for now, any caravan or faction connected to the Zhuge Clan was either stripped bare or forced to pay exorbitant tolls.
Yet the bandits played their game smartly.
They pushed the Black Ox Stronghold to the forefront to lend credibility to their claims. For the Zhuge Clan, who had dismissed them as mere thieves, the decision wasn't easy. Compromising or backing down both felt untenable.
While the demand for an official apology held them back, affiliated sects and merchant groups lodged protests. And it didn't stop there—factions began probing whether the Shadow Assassins were indeed the Zhuge Clan's hit squad. Those who had suffered silently at the Zhuge Clan's hands were now banding together.
With layer upon layer of misfortunes piling up, the Zhuge Clan found themselves paralyzed. Public perception turned negative, and internal issues only compounded their headaches.
For the Zhuge Clan, it was a dilemma that defied hasty resolution. Compromise would forfeit their moral standing; refusal meant inevitable clash with the Green Forest bandits.
As darkness fell...
Amid a vast reed field stretched a large temporary tent. Torches flickered, but fog shrouded the view, making everything hazy. It was as if lanterns glowed beneath a veil of murky sake fumes.
Inside the tent.
A hulking man, weathered by countless trials, sat tilting his cup. The men flanking him had equally rough features.
Whoosh!
The tent flap parted, and a middle-aged man entered, exuding a refined air in stark contrast to the brutish company.
Swish!
At a glance from the central figure, the men on either side rose and exited.
A fierce-looking man with unkempt beard faced off against a poised middle-aged scholar reminiscent of an ancient sage.
"I never expected the Heavenly Mechanism Divine Sword to come just because I summoned him."
"There's no reason not to, is there?"
The nocturnal visitor was none other than Zhuge Hyun, head of the Zhuge Clan.
His counterpart was astonishingly the absolute ruler of the Green Forest—Green Forest King Jang Pil-do. As friction between the Zhuge Clan and the bandits escalated, the leaders of these rival powers met in secret.
Even more surprisingly, the bandits had reached out first.
It was an odd move. On the surface, momentum favored the Green Forest. Without outside interference, even open war with the Zhuge Clan wouldn't seem amiss.
"Are you willing to issue an official apology?"
"Apology? I haven't the foggiest what you're talking about. This has nothing to do with our clan. I won't acknowledge any plot."
An apology implies admission of guilt, and compensation follows only after. Zhuge Hyun offered neither. Even if the clan were at fault, an apology was out of the question.
"Evidence keeps piling up, and you'll still deny it? The world isn't that forgiving."
"Our house doesn't sway to street rumors. But if you won't stop here, we'll have no choice but to settle this to the death."
"The Zhuge Clan, you mean?"
"You'll see."
The Green Forest outnumbered the Zhuge Clan. Yet they couldn't underestimate the clan's hidden strength. A full clash would hurt the bandits too.
Hummm!
The aura between Jang Pil-do and Zhuge Hyun clashed evenly. The air in the tent grew heavy.
"Manakdo Jang Geum-tak. Don't you sense it by now?"
"If you're going to bring up brotherhood, better not at all."
"Quick on your feet, as always."
"Cross the line, and we won't back down either."
When the Green Forest contacted them, Zhuge Hyun had scrutinized every angle for ulterior motives. But intel on the Green Forest King was scarce. Known as a brute, yet he bore the title of king—no room for complacency.
Still, he hoped for a reasonable compromise. In the end, meeting was the only way to confirm.
"You don't seem one for chit-chat, so to the point: how about a million taels?"
"Too steep."
"No apology required in exchange."
"That was the goal from the start?"
"Do you think we care about justifications? Better to squeeze every last coin."
Zhuge Hyun inwardly seethed.
He should have seen it when they demanded a public apology. The Green Forest King's true aim was money, not pride. Amplifying rumors and pressuring the clan was all a ploy to haggle high.
"This mess stems from a misunderstanding. That said, we acknowledge providing the spark."
"I'll put it in writing if you want."
It grated on Zhuge Hyun. Things hadn't unfolded as predicted. But reality left no choice—the tide ran against the clan. If money resolved it, that was a mercy.
Before agreeing, Zhuge Hyun set a condition.
"You won't let the one who escalated this slide, right?"
"Say what you will, but we can't harm our benefactor from the stronghold. He's done us many favors."
"How much do you want?"
"Oh, come now! I'm the king of Green Forest—even I'd have to weigh the hit to my reputation if I repaid kindness with enmity... Hm! Tough spot."
He'd just claimed not to chase fame, now feigning ignorance. Clearly inflating his price.
"We'll ensure no stain on your name. Besides, I hear the man himself isn't short on wealth."
"To overcome hardships, we must help each other. Considering your sincerity, a million it is."
For a bandit lord, his words gleamed with false polish.
Passing through a famed city in Hubei Province, they headed toward Anhui.
The Tang Clan had stationed themselves at Yunzhong Mountain to dismantle and transport the Poison Horned Ink Dragon.
They'd reached a satisfactory compromise with Elder Poison King from a big-picture view. Martial arts included hidden weapons, and he'd pored over scrolls all night—his eyes bloodshot.
The return to Anhui proceeded smoothly.
Before long, they passed Wuchang and reached Mount Ying. Straddling the Hubei-Anhui border, it wasn't among the continent's famed peaks but shifted beautifully through the seasons.
Those in the know always climbed Mount Ying, and those who had always returned.
On the way back, Mujin entrusted the gold bars to the Continental Battlefield Guild, exchanging them for notes.
Lately, Mujin had joined their VIP list. With vast sums deposited, their service was exceptional. For instance, free lodging and meals at their inns.
The world truly revolved around money.
Attitudes shifted dramatically before wealth. Even those decrying money worship changed upon tasting its power—whether chasing profit or not. No organization stayed pure forever. It mirrored the rise and fall of nations.
In the carriage, Yukchil sat demurely opposite Mujin, reporting.
"The Green Forest officially announced it was a misunderstanding."
"Smart judgment."
"They're bandits, after all. They wouldn't retreat empty-handed. Anyone can see they negotiated."
"If they keep quiet among themselves, no one knows. And it's a burden for Green Forest too."
"No room for other factions to meddle, though."
"Can't just sit idle regardless."
Suppose the Green Forest crushed the Zhuge Clan by force. The righteous faction couldn't stand by. If it weakened them moderately, fine—but escalation might pit Green Forest against the entire alliance.
"Bandits, yet they roll their schemes shrewdly."
"Doesn't make them trustworthy."
"Zhuge Clan had no other play without negotiating. They must've shelled out a fortune."
"Money in the end."
"What else from bandits?"
Mujin had sniffed it out from the start, seeing through their pretense of moral high ground. Obvious ploy—only fools would agonize over it deeply.
Praise Green Forest all you want; bandits at core. Expecting honor or principle from them was the mistake.
'Not all kings are created equal.'
-You're hardly one to talk.
'We're one.'
-Shut it!
No immediate proof, but the negotiations halted attacks on the Zhuge Clan. Meanwhile, they dismissed rumors linking the Shadow Assassins to the clan as conspiracy theories, denying ties to claimants.
Suspicions lingered, but none could match the clan in raw power. With Green Forest pulling out, the opposition hung in limbo—pushing further would fizzle out inevitably.
"The rich just get richer. Why not share the pie?"
Coming from Mujin of all people, the sensible words rang hollow. To preach it, lead by example first. "Do as I say, not as I do"—who'd follow?
"I can't stand such injustices. Right, Yukchil?"
"Of course."
"We need to clarify the rumors' truth. For the suffering folk."
"Indeed."
Intel from the Shadow Assassins was but a third. They'd release it piecemeal. Exposing it all would deal the Zhuge Clan a heavy blow.
"Make others weep, and blood tears will be yours. That's worldly justice."
"Absolutely."
Righteous words, yet to Yukchil's ears, they dripped sarcasm. Far from pure altruism—it reeked of grudge-settling against the hated clan.
No need to pick fights; they picked themselves. Then claim battle for justice.
'No evidence.'
Only hunch of Mujin's involvement—no hard proof. A slip-up meant the Beggar Clan took the fall alone. Facts mustn't leak.
Hm.
As they crested the mountainside, Mujin's senses caught a hefty presence. Mount Ying was scenic year-round but not a busy trail. Bandit haunts wouldn't balance books here—any venture demanded profit calculus.
"We got played."
"Pardon?"
"Used their heads for once. Should've trusted better."
"What do you mean?"
"Never mind. Let's go."
"Yes, Young Master!"
Yukchil had pondered calling him Great Hero. But Mujin was worlds from that. If he was one, he'd be an immortal.
Soon, a massive tree blocked the path, felled across it.
Storms or lightning could topple trees, but a clean bore-through like this was rare. Especially with gentle slopes on both sides.
Creak!
Mujin opened the carriage door and stepped out.
Narung, Yukchil, and Cheol-ho scanned warily. A felled tree in broad daylight was unusual. Local currents felt off.
They surveyed cautiously.
Step, step!
As Mujin advanced, a burly man rose from the brush. Muscled and fierce-faced. Aging gracefully, better than Cheol-ho at least.
Mujin and the stranger matched in bulk. Heads that turned anywhere. They raised this era's average height.
"You look the part of a man."
"Hear that often."
Cheol-ho scowled at Mujin's assessment. How was that manly? If so, he measured up too.
"Handsom-er than our Cheol-ho."
"Rougher tongue than he looks."
Compared to Cheol-ho, the man frowned. No beauty, but far above that kid. Wrong benchmark fueled his ire.
'Damn it!'
Cheol-ho's gripe burned hotter.
To Mujin, they were much alike, but he probed intent. No killing intent despite Zhuge ties. Elite assassins hid it, but this one broadcasted raw power openly.
"What's the occasion?"
"Just saying hello."
He'd kowtow if allowed—Mujin obliged. Last wishes deserved granting.
"Go ahead."
"Thanks for saving our kids."
"That it?"
"But business is business—can't let you pass without tribute."
Green Forest King Jang Pil-do, separating personal from professional.