Chapter 144
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 144
Chapter Title: Preliminary Moves (1)
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Oh no!
In my agitation, I lost my temper. It was a minor slip-up. These things happen in life. What husband could stay calm while his wife was being insulted? Anyone would understand my feelings.
What's more, I didn't even kill them.
If my wife hadn't been watching, I would've executed the lot of them and buried their bodies. They ought to be grateful to her. If there's a living bodhisattva in this world, it's my wife.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine, of course. What about you?"
"As long as you're okay, I'm okay."
"Sorry for letting scum like that ruin a good day. You must feel upset because of me."
"They were targeting us from the start. None of this is your fault. They're just bleeding a bit—they're not dead."
As expected of Yujin.
In that short time, she'd seen through Gushan Hall's intentions and understood me. True husband and wife share a bond that needs no words. That was the deep intimacy between us.
Conversations always got interrupted by nosy outsiders, but the ones who ended up bleeding were predetermined. Marital matters were no one's business. Best to look the other way if you valued your safety. Unless you wanted your head smashed into the dirt.
"A power struggle, huh."
"Lately, Gushan Hall's been expanding with Black Dragon Fortress backing them. Seems they're even messing with merchants in our territory."
"Those petty unorthodox riffraff have grown bold."
"They don't know their place."
It was just casual chit-chat between husband and wife.
The standoff between sects wasn't glaring yet. Pine Tiger Sect and Gushan Hall were kings only in Cheongyang. Step outside, and they were minor factions not worth tripping over. Of course, this excluded Pine Tiger Sect's current strength.
Maybe that's why.
Neither Mujin nor Yujin gave Gushan Hall a second thought—not even as much as dirt under their nails. In truth, just sending my little brother would've let him behead every last one within an hour.
'Should I slip in masked and wipe them out?'
Even if Gushan Hall's hall leader had a fierce reputation, it was confined to Cheongyang. Frogs in the same well, sure—but the difference in caliber was vast. And being in the same well meant nowhere to flee. Running just kept you splashing around inside.
"So they need a pretext. What a joke."
"Even if Black Dragon Fortress is regaining its former glory, it's still the righteous sects' world. They can't ignore justification."
Hmm.
I'd thought she focused only on internal sect affairs as chief steward, but she had the outside situation pegged too.
My wife, but a true genius. A hardworking woman was this beautiful. At the same time, I felt sorry for her handling things in my stead.
"When did you become such a genius, Yujin?"
"Ever since I met you."
Coincidence? Right on cue, no one was around. Just the unconscious thugs left behind, giving me chills. If anyone overheard, they might ascend to the heavens as chicken.
Our harmony was too perfect. No fights, and even if there were, we'd share the same bed. Mornings always brought perfect peace, as if nothing happened. The bed was truly a place of harmony.
"You're the only one who understands me."
"Same here."
A picture-perfect couple.
Sparks flew.
Even the passed-out thugs shivered in convulsions. Not the time or place, but Mujin glanced around and stole a kiss from Yujin's lips.
Mwah!
He wouldn't have cared about an audience. Suddenly, his wife hugged him fiercely and kissed him deeply.
Whoa!
It felt too good.
Blushing at his wife's boldness, Mujin reddened. No one watching, so they indulged in affection right there on the street. By this era's standards of male-female relations, it was shockingly bold.
Ahem.
As much as he enjoyed it, Mujin didn't show it and moved on.
"Gushan Hall's sub-hall leader—might be worth something, right?"
"Using him as a hostage could give Black Dragon Fortress an excuse to intervene."
"Letting them go feels like a waste. Even dogshit has its uses."
"Better to settle it quietly for now."
"Hm, not my style."
Mujin was dealing with major matters.
For the continent's safety and his family, tangling with small fry like Gushan Hall felt beneath him.
You're out of your league, kids.
Swimming in the same pond doesn't make you equals. They didn't know their place. If they kept flailing ignorantly, a harsh lesson was due.
Once you draw a blade, finish the job clean.
"It could be simple if you handled it, but settling at the sect level is better. It builds confidence in our warriors too."
"Indeed, my wife is always so wise."
Pine Tiger Sect's enforcers needed testing. Training and sparring weren't enough. True growth came from real combat—killing. A blade unstained by blood was dead. To live, it had to rise atop corpses.
Gushan Hall made perfect practice. Give them cause, and sect clashes were martial world orthodoxy.
"Yeah, time for some action."
"The enforcers' skills have improved vastly, but their momentum lags. They need to trust their techniques."
Couldn't just kill anyone, though. Needed righteous self-defense—a pretext. Then slaughter freely.
Sounded old-fashioned, but justification mattered. It left no regrets after killing. Shock at bloodshed disqualified you as a warrior.
"Thinking that far ahead—you're amazing! I can't keep up."
"My dream is building the sect you want. Free from interference."
Honestly, shocking.
She'd seen right through what I'd kept hidden. I had to admire her insight. Was that why they said the world's greatest warrior had the world's greatest wife? Solid support made his heart steady. And she wasn't just good at home—her reputation outside was stellar.
She's perfect.
"Enough of this—let's go in and get your favorite beef noodles."
"Sure."
They'd started heading inside out of consideration, only to return—and now punishment. No need elsewhere; back to the restaurant.
Swoosh!
The owner, who'd been huddled inside, finally peeked out. Mok Ak-jin barging in had scared off the last customers.
"Uncle Myeong-jin, two beef noodles."
"Young Master Kang, please speak formally. This humble one can't handle it!"
"My apologies for before. Treat me casually. I'm serious."
"...Alright then. Two beef noodles, coming right up."
Cheonghyeon Pavilion's owner, Chae Myeong-jin, was a noodle master of generations. Timid, but his noodles were unmatched. Quick to adapt—good business sense.
-Troublemaker everywhere you go.
'That's why I'm apologizing.'
-Beat people, apologize, and it's done.
'I didn't beat them!'
-Got drunk and wrecked the place.
'These noodles are killer. Come sometime.'
-...Don't close!
Cheonghyeon Pavilion was his wife's favorite noodle spot. They'd return; couldn't embarrass each other.
Time to make amends.
Uncle Myeong-jin brought the food.
"Here, special jade noodles with beef—so good you'd miss one bowl if you blinked. Eat before it cools."
"Thanks for the meal."
Mujin sipped the broth first. He'd had it before regression but skipped after. Forgot the owner's name. Pre-regression, hangover cure staple. Drunk mistakes aplenty.
Slurp!
His wife tasted broth, then slurped noodles.
Slurrrp!
Mujin marveled.
Her noodle-sucking technique was divine. That small mouth inhaled dozens of strands at once. Astonished by the suction, Mujin gulped unwittingly at her glossy, oily lips.
-You perv!
'Why?'
-Perverted bastard.
'...No thoughts.'
-We're one.
Such mistakes.
But Mujin stood tall. No lust for one's wife disqualified you as husband. No shame between spouses. Just enjoying life. Soon, full effort for kids three and four. For the sect's peace—a noble declaration.
His wife was a noodle assassin.
Four bowls gone. Watching her eat heartily warmed him as husband. This was life's joy. Full just watching. He matched pace, downing four. Food's best shared. He followed her rhythm.
The couple demolished twelve bowls. Uncle Myeong-jin's face mixed satisfaction and bewilderment. Glad for off-peak sales, but beggars in their bellies?
'Can raise cows, not you lot.'
Myeong-jin's honest thought.
Remembering the mess outside, worries piled. The punk had reformed, martial arts improved. Thirty years in the biz—good judge of character.
'Lucky break.'
Merchants in Gushan Hall turf were bloodless with fear. Pine Tiger turf here was safe. Stronger sect meant peace for business. Obvious, but Mujin's turnaround eased worries most.
"If those guys cause trouble later, say it was our orders. Don't risk life over trifles."
"You've really changed."
"Can't stay stuck in the past. Call it youthful folly."
"Sect Leader won't worry anymore."
Sect Leader would've never admitted it here.
"Got hidden booze. Want some?"
"Nah, no booze biz."
Would've taken it. But selective serving rumors? Mujin's refusal erased Myeong-jin's doubts. Old Mujin never refused. Small gesture, big surprise.
"Why stare? Something on my face?"
"Just... feels like a dream."
Yujin beamed at her husband's improved rep. Recalling past gossip, it felt worlds away. Once fretted over his spirit; now needless.
'Dad, I did it!'
Father opposed marriage—couldn't give daughter to that thug. People don't change easy, can't fix broken. Now she could face him proudly.
Without regression, father was right. People don't change easy.
Shiver!
Sun dipped, wind blew. Regaining senses, Mok Ak-jin writhed in pain. Agony recalled snapped memories.
"...You bastard!"
"You call?"
"...?"
Furious, but the reply stunned. Familiar voice jolted Mok Ak-jin. Low murmur worsened throbbing pain.
"Bastard what?"
"Coward! Ambush! Ashamed as righteous warrior?"
"Rematch, you'll win? Fine, up. Kill you proper."
"Wait!"
"Body fine. Up. Don't wanna die?"
"...?"
What kinda question?
Don't wanna die? Bullshit. Speechless, Mok Ak-jin gawked at Mujin. This wasn't how it should go.
'Why?'
Mujin he knew: worthless wastrel. Couldn't master basics. Time passes, trash stays trash. Unbelievable—scared speechless by this punk.
Dream?
Smack!
Head snapped! Right cheek burned, pain to bone. Stars burst; grasping reality, rage surged.
"You dare... Aaargh!"
"My turf. Sure?"
"What?"
Around: Kang Muho, Na-reung, Yukchil, Cheolho, Taejin encircled. Yujin sent off, kids called. Prep for disciples' chance.
Ugh, ugh!
Mok Ak-jin's escorts—Jang Geon-seong, Ho Jae-pil, Nak Seong-pil—got pummeled. Stomped unconscious, stomped awake. Screams, but no witnesses. They'd cleared for evidence wipe.
"Dare what?"
Mujin kindly asked, ear to Mok's face.
Swipe, flinch!
Kang Muho's sword hovered at throat. Brothers' teamwork sharp.
"Not too precious life to speak, sub-hall leader?"
"Threatening me... Hng!"
Muho's blade grazed throat. Red beads formed, etched line. Meaning clear without words.
"Father won't forgive... Hng!"
Once, twice, thrice.
Muho teased slices. Like craftsman whittling stick. Time plenty, no hesitation. Indifferent even if off—masterful.
"Brave, sub-hall leader. Send head to Gushan Hall as wished. Satisfied?"
"...Spare me!"
Muho's blade aura—sword qi. Crystal clear, beyond peak. Mok handled qi, but not this sharp.
"Begging?"
"Do as ordered! Spare me!"
"Ah, too late."
"Spare, never bother again!"
Unorthodox differed from righteous. No honor suicides. Righteous had weak wills too. Reality varied.
"Swear live right."
"Yes! Best without law!"
"No blood on blade."
"Engrave Great Hero Kang's words!"
"Go."
"Pardon?"
"Want head?"
"...Going!"
Mok Ak-jin bolted with men. Wounded, but swift footwork. Desperate to live, yet clueless before.
Had they heeded rumors, no attack. Gushan Hall no Zhuge clan. Latter wouldn't know them.
"Sub-hall leader vows good life. Thoughts?"
"Revenge."
"Bitter world. Gotta trust people. Right, brother?"
"Yeah."
Muho uneasy post-reply. Left wide open for revenge. Gushan Hall wouldn't back down quietly. Clash inevitable.
'Soon anyway.'
Gushan Hall suspicious. Using brother for pretext. Dodging today, no retreat tomorrow.
"Time for blood."
"Enforcers on standby."
"Yukchil, got it?"
"Still... Understood."
Mujin entrusted to brother. Time to build fame as Cheongyang powerhouse.