Chapter 192
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 192
Chapter Title: Family Scam Ring (1)
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The Guo Family Manor had entered a golden age thanks to its victory in the duel that decided the clan's destiny. Sects and warriors eager to forge alliances lined up one after another, and they signed contracts with the major merchant groups representing Anhui and Jiangsu Provinces.
Its scale and prosperity had swelled to a level incomparable with the past.
They had now laid the foundation to rise as Jiangsu Province's central power, surpassing even Danyang. And that was not all—the clan's martial strength had advanced beyond recognition. They had refined their secret sword arts, attaining a power on an entirely new plane.
The Lightning Sword—flowing from One Flash, Abyss, Thunder Heaven, Blue Flower, Lightning Thunder, Nine Flash Dragon, and Wall Thunder God—was strikingly different from before. Yet it could not be called wholly new. It had changed only slightly, but that single step elevated the sword's perfection to another dimension entirely.
They should have been overjoyed.
Yet the Guo Family Manor's patriarch and elders felt a bitter taste in their mouths. The clan's scale and might were growing steadily more stable. At this rate, they would make their name as one of Jiangsu's leading houses.
So what!
"How long do we have to keep eating nothing but grass?"
"Don't complain about the side dishes."
"Even so, how are we supposed to build strength chowing down on grass every single day?"
"Well."
Well!
It was a devil's word. The mere mention of it sent the elders trembling violently, like patients gripped by fever delirium. Nightmares they never wanted to relive came flooding back. They still dreamed of that day's horror every night.
'Who wouldn't crave some meat!'
A substantial sum was flowing into the clan coffers. At least ten times what it had been before. And yet they dared not spend freely. No—it was more accurate to say they couldn't.
The world praised their unchanging frugality, but Guo Cheolung grumbled through a face twisted like he'd chewed on a cow's tail.
"We can't escape it anyway."
"This isn't about escaping. We need to settle the debt and clear our obligations. How long are we going to live under that shadow!"
"We can pay it back steadily. Business is booming, after all."
"A whopping 100,000 nyang. You think we can just steadily pay that off? And do you even know the interest on top of it!"
Escaping Kang Mujin's shadow had never even been on the table. It was impossible. The sight of him butchering the Hebei Pang Clan warriors before they could even take a single breath—that would haunt them until their dying days.
'No matter how I turn it over in my mind, it just doesn't add up.'
Guo Cheolyong voiced his thick doubts every time Mujin's overwhelming strength came to mind. The very fact that such a figure had emerged from the Pine Tiger Sect was unnatural. The deeper their investigations went, the more absurd he seemed.
But that was hardly the only issue.
"It feels like there's still room for further refinement, even after those tweaks."
Those were Mujin's parting words before he left.
Even the modestly revised Lightning Sword had yielded accomplishments worlds apart from before. Before the shock of witnessing that revised sword manual had even faded, new ambitions stirred within them as warriors.
"Why in the world is he doing this to us?"
"He said the Lightning Sword still had room for improvement before he left."
Ah!
At the patriarch's words, Guo Cheolung and the elders let out unified gasps of awe. The revised sword art's value had been astonishing enough, but the potential for something even greater? That was a whole different league.
To even tinker with a lowly martial art demanded profound insight—at least the level of a generational grandmaster. Creating a pinnacle manual would require someone on par with Shaolin's Dharma Patriarch or Wudang's Zhang Sanfeng.
"You still gonna whine about eating grass now!"
"I'm getting fat from all the meat. Gotta balance it with veggies."
They said true transcendence freed one from mortal desires, blind to worldly riches. The idea of Dharma or Zhang Sanfeng hungering for coin was absurd on its face.
But Mujin was different.
He was the man who'd wrung 100,000 nyang out of them for a mere tweak to a sword art. For something more advanced? They couldn't even hazard a guess.
At minimum, another 100,000 nyang as the baseline.
And the interest... Gah!
The mere thought had them gagging over their meals. It was a brutally staggering sum. Chills prickled their skin at the horrific interest rates. Fail to pay up on time, and they knew full well what that man would do.
Their current golden age could flip into utter darkness. They might even vanish without a trace.
Only those who'd endured it could comprehend the depths of that man's avarice for gold.
Fine. Give up the chase, curb the greed—no more debts. But humanity was a peculiar breed. Reason screamed they mustn't borrow again; life would turn barren, souls wither.
Yet having tasted sweetness once, reining in desire proved fiendishly hard.
"Sorry."
"Bitter pill."
"What would you do?"
"No choice."
The clan grew stronger by the day, but its core leaders grew poorer by the day.
That day, a visitor arrived at the clan's grand hall. The middle-aged man was the manager of the new Danyang branch.
"What brings you here?"
"Kang Mujin—our top VIP client—borrowed money in the name of the Guo Family Manor."
"...?"
A migraine throbbed in his temples.
Lunch—grass though it was—threatened to come back up.
"How much?"
"A thousand nyang. If it didn't sit right, you could refuse. But if you pay up, he said to deliver this letter."
"...No, hand it over."
Guo Cheolyong's hand shook as he parted with the thousand nyang. Dread washed over him—they'd never escape playing treasurer to Mujin at this rate.
"He's got some grip, alright."
Ahem.
If you're gonna pay, pay cleanly—yet people were devious creatures. His grip tightened unconsciously, crumpling the bills. He barely steadied himself and took the letter.
Unfolding it, Guo Cheolyong was dumbstruck.
Huh!
It was the first form of the Lightning Sword: One Flash.
He could tell at a glance it was vastly improved over the prior version. Most shocking was how hard it was to gauge its power without first mastering the Lightning Sword itself.
-20,000 nyang.
The Lightning Sword consisted of seven forms in total.
If the first form cost 20,000 nyang, what would the later ones demand? Forms grew deadlier toward the end. And this refined Lightning Sword incorporated linked sequences. Each form only unleashed its true might when chained to the next.
"We're doomed!"
"Yeah."
They never should have touched it to begin with. Telling others would just sound like the griping of the overfed. From the outside, they were at their peak—no one would buy it.
They were shiny plums hiding rot inside. Or as they said, giving rice porridge to dogs.
Crash.
The last remaining plate hit the floor and shattered pathetically. The woman trying to stop them crumpled to the ground like that plate. An elderly man dragged his ailing body forward to shield his daughter-in-law.
"You thugs—have you no shame! Get out!"
"Old timer doesn't know how the world works."
The sick elder blustered, but the burly men's kicks sent him sprawling. Children wailed and clung desperately next. The men showed no mercy, not to kids or elders.
"Told ya—pay up on time."
"Please, just a little more time. We'll pay it back, I swear!"
"Everyone says that, and no one ever pays on the due date. Boys, search the place!"
"Don't do this!"
The brutes shoved the woman aside and ransacked the rooms. They hoped for valuables, but as expected, there was little of worth. The only remnants were a brush and inkstone—old, but oddballs sometimes coveted such things.
"Won't even cover drinks."
"Not that! Please, anything but!"
"Let go, while I'm asking nice."
The woman clutched at a thug's pant leg, but he grew annoyed and hurled her away. Malnourished as she was, she couldn't resist— she tumbled far across the floor. Impossible for her to hold back grown men.
Yet she staggered up again to block them.
For her, that inkstone and brush were sacred. Her father-in-law's sole keepsake, treasured by her husband. Anything but those.
"Don't hurt Mom, you bastards!"
"Thought this was a scholar's house. Brats got mouths on 'em. Time for some proper education. Boys, stomp 'em!"
"We've disciplined plenty of bookworms. Heh heh heh heh!"
The brutes unleashed merciless violence even on the children. The elder and woman shielded the kids, their bodies soon bloodied.
That was when it happened.
"You scum—stop right there!"
A man burst through the battered door, bellowing as he charged. The thugs smirked in disbelief.
"Aw, our scholar's a fan of hero tales. Hope we don't all end up beaten and rolling. Right?"
"Yessir, boss. I'm so scared my legs are shaking. Kah hah hah hah ha!"
The bellowing scholar swung a fist at the brutes. But a bookish man who'd never fought was no match for street-hardened thugs.
Thwack!
Yet it connected.
The leader wiped blood from his split lip.
"Fist like a hunk of iron. Boss is seeing stars."
"Jaw's hanging loose. How much we gonna charge for this?"
"Worth a hundred nyang in medicals, easy."
"A hundred? They ain't got a single nyang. So what now?"
"What else—make 'em pay in flesh."
"What're you waiting for! Stomp him."
As if he'd struck first and they'd no choice, the scholar became their plaything. He lunged with gritted teeth, but raw fury couldn't bridge the gap against these gutter rats.
To warriors, mere street scum. To common folk, more terrifying than the reaper himself.
Thud thud thud thud thud!
Down he went, and they stomped without restraint.
Guh!
A gut punch had the scholar retching, foaming blood. He knew he shouldn't have—but seeing his mother, wife, and children suffer, he couldn't stand idle. He prided himself on cool reason, yet rage had blinded him in an instant.
"...You scum... aren't even afraid of the... law...!"
"Oh dear, our scholar loves the law so much. What'll we do? If you know it so well, report us to the magistrates. Boys, looks like we're done for."
"Too scared to kick proper. Oops, slipped and hit his face."
Invoking the law meant nothing to loan sharks. Few knew it better than them. Usury thrived on ties to officialdom.
No way a scholar's threats would faze their connected crew.
"Love the law? Then pay your interest quick, you bastard. Don't play scholar when you can't even protect your own family, you ink-stained mutt."
"These types always forget their place and yap about honor!"
The failed scholar lay silent amid their mockery. His battered body wouldn't obey, but the deeper wound was their truth.
'...It's all... my fault.'
What right had a man who couldn't provide for his kin to govern a nation? It had never suited him from the start. Heaven's trial to remind him of his station.
Kuh!
He wept quietly.