Chapter 32
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 32
Chapter Title: Custom (1)
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The sun was setting.
The lake, dyed red by the sunset, blazed like fire. With the fading sun on the verge of being swallowed by darkness, it was more beautiful than ever.
Splash!
Mujin tilted his glass, savoring the sunset. Blowing on a flute at the bow of the boat was the epitome of romance for any martial artist.
Step... step...
A light footfall approached. Even on the rippling river, the massive figure moved without a tremor.
He didn't bother guessing who it was. There was only one person who would come looking for him.
Clasped hands!
The man cupped his fists in formal greeting. It was an unexpected show of respect from someone of a prestigious clan.
"I'm Hwangbo Jangseong."
"Kang Mujin of the Pine Tiger Sect. No need to commit it to memory. We're a minor sect from Cheongyang. We can't compare to the renowned Hwangbo Clan."
Kang Mujin displayed a humility at odds with his usual demeanor. But to the recipient, Hwangbo Jangseong, it was utterly absurd.
Ignorance would be one thing.
'He pinned me down with intangible energy.'
He'd threatened to crush him if he moved recklessly. Pretending humility now made it impossible to take at face value. At the same time, he was surprised that the Pine Tiger Sect harbored someone like him.
'Participating in the Little Dragon Tournament means making an enemy of the orthodox sects.'
The power of prestigious clans came from time. Years of accumulated experience and martial arts formed their renowned signboards. Few forces dared ignore that.
Yet occasionally, meteors fell from the sky. Geniuses worthy of being called monsters, the founding ancestors of clans and sects before they gained fame. Comparing them to this man was nonsense, of course.
But if he provoked the Hwangbo Clan knowingly, he was either reckless or a monster.
He'd seemed the latter moments ago, but now the former. Undeniably hard to judge.
"Lost in thought, are we?"
"You've lost face. Naturally."
"Speak freely."
"You beat me senseless, and now offering balm won't heal the wound."
"Then let's drink."
Mujin handed his half-empty bottle to Hwangbo Jangseong. Without hesitation, the man grabbed it and downed it. The potent baijiu burned his throat, but a cool river breeze soon carried it away.
"How's that? The alcohol easing the pain?"
"Drown it and forget?"
Hwangbo Jangseong realized this man was far more shameless than he appeared. The Hwangbo name meant nothing to him. He'd never seen anyone so composed, even with an enemy in Shandong's famed Hundred Battle Fist.
"Grown men meddling in boys' fights leads to irreparable rifts."
"Fights always escalate from trifles. The greater the sect, the less trivial the excuse."
"More direct than you look."
"Just facts. But as with all things, straying from common sense invites rejection."
Hwangbo Jangseong turned and left.
A warning and advice. Further threats wouldn't end as mildly.
Pfft!
Mujin chuckled.
But he didn't mock the warning. It was apt counsel. Lone wolves in jianghu bred enmities. Clashes with prestigious clans could spawn many.
-Not like you.
'What's "like me"?'
-You never let mouthy fools slide.
'Am I the Demon King?'
-Worse. Why the change?
'Your fault.'
-Me? Ah, that incident.
'Embarrassing.'
During his War King days, Mujin had faced mortal peril once. Nearly died in the Demonic Cult of the Demon God's vicious scheme. It laid groundwork to topple them, but as War King, it was a shameful memory.
-I should've gone that day.
'Sly bastard.'
-Dead men don't talk.
'True.'
Hwangbo Jangseong was lucky. Without that day's faint connection, he'd have been thrashed on deck and forced to kneel, hands raised.
-But he won't let a trifling tie slide quietly.
'What do you know.'
-You attract trouble. Guaranteed.
'Keep talking nonsense!'
Trouble-magnet? Just bad luck. Minor scuffles were jianghu life.
Besides, learning martial arts to let them rust was wasteful. Use them or lose them. Stir unrest if none exists. That's a warrior's path. History proves it.
Yet wars don't erupt endlessly. Lives wouldn't last. Peace must stagnate, corruption fester, before blood flows. Same for nations' rise and fall.
'Not now, though.'
-Is it?
Mujin clicked his tongue at the Demon King's sly shift. How was this bloodthirsty incarnation of evil? Lately, he suspected an imposter.
-Don't doubt the Demon King.
'Casual as ever.'
While Mujin downed seven bottles of takju on deck, the cabin grew noisy. As expected, Hwangbo Jinun regained consciousness and sought Taejin and Cheolho.
"You sneaky bastards! You call yourselves men? One-on-one, I'd never lose!"
His face swollen and bruised, but Hwangbo Jinun's fury burned. The two-on-one excused his pride. Prestigious blood rationalized defeat.
"Bro, this."
"Still, you lost to me."
"Suit yourself."
"Who said no?"
Cheolho snatched the dumpling from Taejin's hand, wary of eyes. After vomiting all day, seasickness finally passed. Hunger hit hard.
Munch, munch!
Hwangbo Jinun bellowed, but Taejin and Cheolho remained indifferent. Utterly rational apathy, as if it were none of their business.
Scream all you want; we don't care.
Consistent ignoring pierced Hwangbo Jinun's rage through the deck. He stomped the floor. Childish tantrum demanding attention.
"You bastards, can't you hear me?!"
"Round two?"
They never shied from fights.
Mouths full of dumplings, Taejin and Cheolho asked. Willing for another two-on-one if desired. No thought of fair duel. Finish quick, eat more—logical.
Flinch!
Finally grasping his plight, Hwangbo Jinun retreated half a step. Shouldn't have come alone.
Crunch!
Another mistake dawned. Shouting in cabin echoed inescapably.
Uncle and Crimson Dragon Squad behind. They'd ignore no threat to the heir bearing clan enmity. Confidence surged.
"Think cheap tricks work again?"
"You said ganging up was fine then. Figured you'd win solo, but now adapting? True hero's path. My ignorance blinded me."
Taejin switched to polite speech, dismantling point by point. Unintended, but it preempted rebuttals.
Sarcasm or not, concede.
Grit!
Cornered, Hwangbo Jinun's anger doubled.
Logic damned him. hurling violence at sword-heart level before? Natural fury.
Humans rage at deaf ears. Flawed premise tangled debate.
"You think you'll get away unscathed?!"
"What did we do wrong? We're righteous folk, aren't we? The great Hwangbo Clan, pillar of Five Great Clans—seeking blood revenge over a spar loss? Is that it?"
"...Not revenge! Fair duel!"
"Ah, my mistake. Shall we go fair now?"
Taejin nodded; Cheolho rose too. Dull-looking, but he played along.
Hwangbo Jinun retreated further.
"Cowards!"
"Facing the great Hwangbo heir, nobodies like us have no choice. Scared, young master?"
Prideful clan prestige grated today.
"Who's scared?!"
"As expected of Hwangbo blood—bold!"
Damn it all!
Hwangbo Jinun hated this. Defeated by unknowns, now cowering. Worse, no backup despite noise.
Why so quiet!
Step, step!
Mujin entered amid standoff. Seven baijiu bottles insufficient; boredom plain.
"Ho, back in half a day? Brave soul. Care for another fair two-on-one show? Hwangbo heir won't flee midway. Of course not."
Fair my ass!
These father-son con artists!
Hwangbo Jinun loathed Mujin's wide-open taunt. Eerily echoing the pair—like father, like son.
He hesitated.
Rage aside, odds worsened. They gained one, now three; he alone.
"Sky's dark—call it. I'll settle at Little Dragon Tournament. Best stay apart till then."
Warning done, Hwangbo Jinun fled. No good lingered here. Needed answers for silence.
'Not senseless. Good posture. Tactical retreat's brilliant strategy.'
Mujin let him go.
Not fully ripe, but manly. Rivalry natural. Nitpicking trivia would bleed jianghu dry. Unlike petty grudge-holders needing decades—vast magnanimity.
-Looks generous.
'Who rivals my generosity?!'
-So you popped Poison-Eye's last eye over stolen meat?
'"Some meat"? Twisting words. Stealing meat! I'd have shared if asked.'
-Bullshit.