A Fateful Meeting Born of Kindness 1
“You were quick enough to laugh when I bought the peonies.”
Seok Geum-ryong did not bother to beat around the bush.
“Oh, no! Not at all.”
“W-we never did anything of the sort.”
The people from the Geumhwa Merchant Group waved their hands frantically, their faces already pale with regret. But spilled water could not be gathered back into a bowl, and Geum Do-song, too, could only lament that he had mocked him for no reason back then, wishing he had gone along and bought the peonies when Seok Geum-ryong did.
“I’m sorry, but what I’m giving these people right now is not for sale. If you want to make a proper purchase request, go to Seokga Manor’s main estate and discuss it there.”
Seok Geum-ryong’s tone was firm.
The reason the people of the Geumhwa Merchant Group had come to him rather than to the main estate of Seokga Manor was simple enough: they had hoped to buy the peonies cheaply. But now that they had been rejected outright, there was nothing they could do.
“Understood. Hngh.”
In the end, they swallowed their tears and withdrew. The story spread far and wide, becoming a legend: Seok Geum-ryong had not yielded his peonies even in the face of Geumhwa Merchant Group’s tremendous offer, and instead had chosen to care for the people at the very bottom of society.
“There are many brilliant young masters and young ladies at Seokga Manor, but Seok Geum-ryong is unquestionably the finest.”
“Exactly. When did rich merchants ever spare a glance for our slum?”
“Young Master Seok Geum-ryong is a true saint.”
And so, in the blink of an eye, Seok Geum-ryong became the saint of the slums, and his reputation soared to the heavens.
In truth, Seok Geum-ryong had not merely helped with the treatment and prevention of the plague; he had even distributed grain so the poor might endure the bitter winter, even if only a little more easily.
What a warm-hearted sight he presented.
But this world was not made up entirely of warm-hearted people.
Within the merciless world of Jianghu, there were always cruel and wicked men as well.
It was late one night.
Rustle.
Taking advantage of the darkness, a group of figures approached the slums with great caution.
To everyone’s shock, their destination was the lodging where Seok Geum-ryong and his party were staying at Jang Sam’s house in the slums, after spending the entire afternoon doing volunteer work there.
“Hand over all the peonies you have left!”
“If you don’t, we’ll burn this place to the ground, and the head of Seok Geum-ryong, the fifth son of Seokga Manor, won’t be safe either.”
That was why this band of thieves, all of them masked, had come all the way here.
“This is bad!”
Jang Sam looked flustered at the sudden raid.
“Young Master, quickly behind me!”
Shin Dan-woo, Seok Geum-ryong’s bodyguard, also went on guard and fixed his gaze on the roughly twenty thieves before him.
Then he realized something.
These men aren’t ordinary thieves.
Ordinary bandits would never dare lay a hand on Seokga Manor’s bloodline.
More than that, the aura and movements of each man were all at the first-class level despite them being merely a band of thieves. They were not thieves at all, but a force gathered for some specific purpose.
“Who on earth are those people?”
Seok Geum-ryong, sharp-eyed and quick-witted as ever, noticed it at a glance too.
“Who knows? Perhaps they’re blind fools hoping to turn peonies into gold and jewels.”
Shin Dan-woo answered while quietly assessing the strength of the force disguised as thieves.
The situation was grim.
He and Seok Geum-ryong were reasonably skilled, but they also had people to protect, like the servant Jang Sam and Deung Chon.
Besides, because the attack had come so late at night, there was no time to request reinforcements from anywhere else.
“If you hand over the remaining peonies peacefully, there will be no need for us to return to a filthy slum like this again.”
“Heh-heh-heh. There’s no need to spill blood here.”
With their faces completely hidden behind masks, only their fierce eyes visible, the wicked men smiled broadly beneath the cloth.
“Heaven help us!”
Seeing the thieves run rampant, Jang Sam cursed the heavens in misery and guilt.
They would not offer aid or praise to Seok Geum-ryong, who had compassionately cared for the lowest and most insignificant people in the world. Instead, they had come to rob him of the peonies he possessed.
“We should have just gone back this evening... I’m sorry.”
The Scholar in Blue, Gong Sang-pil, also blamed himself for not stopping this sooner.
He had been too carried away by the warm hospitality of the slums, and that had been the fatal mistake.
Just as the situation was plunging toward the worst possible outcome, a voice suddenly rang out.
“Waaaaah!”
“Back off, you thieves!”
“This is the home of Young Master Seok Geum-ryong, the saint of the slums!”
“If you want to harm Young Master Seok Geum-ryong, you’ll have to step over our corpses first!”
Once again, the unbelievable happened.
To everyone’s shock, the people of the Hebei slums, who had shown no interest in anyone else whatsoever, rose up in unison and began shouting.
“W-what are they doing?”
“These filthy commoners!”
“Shut up! Can’t you keep quiet?!”
When dozens, even as many as a hundred, of slum dwellers jeered and roared at them, even thieves of exceptional skill had no choice but to panic.
If this story were to end on a truly heartwarming note, it would have been best for the thieves to retreat at once. But reality was merciless.
Clang!
Among the thieves, the man with the finest skill and the greatest decisiveness drew his large tachi with a valiant flourish.
Then, like a veteran general hardened by a hundred battles, he radiated a murderous aura.
“From this moment on, anyone who causes a disturbance, anyone who interferes with our mission, will have their head cut off!”
Even his lion’s roar, thunderous enough to shake the dark night, carried his internal energy and displayed the depth of his cultivation.
“...!!”
At that overwhelming display, the morale of the slum dwellers, which had once soared to the heavens, began to crash straight down.
Unable to step forward any further, all they could do was clasp one another’s hands and resolve to become a shield so Seok Geum-ryong might escape.
“Run!”
Watching that scene, Seok Geum-ryong urged the people of the slum to flee.
“Young Master, even beasts that cannot speak will often trot faithfully after the one who healed them, grateful for the kindness shown. And humans, even if they live in poverty, how could they be born as human beings and then betray their benefactors?”
Even if they had little, there were many who knew righteousness.
They were willing to risk death itself in order to buy Seok Geum-ryong time to escape.
Every one of them had survived and preserved their families thanks to the medicinal soups and grain made possible by Seok Geum-ryong’s peonies.
Seok Geum-ryong watched that paradoxical sight once more and felt his chest grow tight.
Crunch.
Then he quietly tightened his grip on the Silver-Echo Sword.
At the very least, he had resolved not to hand over the peonies so easily.
“You’re going out of your way to take the long road when the short one is right here.”
“Then our goodwill ends here as well.”
Speaking as if they were the ones injured, the thieves who had come to plunder another man’s property finally hardened their hearts and stepped forward.
Just as the moment of collision was about to arrive,
“Hahahahahaha!”
a clear laugh rang out from somewhere nearby.
The laughter was strange indeed. It was not as brazenly thunderous as the thieves’ leader’s lion’s roar, yet it remained distinct and lingering, leaving an impression that was impossible to ignore.
This is a Resonant Roar, even harder to achieve than a lion’s roar!
Veteran Shin Dan-woo and Seok Geum-ryong, who had seen every trial and tribulation in their previous life, recognized it at once.
Unlike a lion’s roar, which anyone at the first-class level could produce, a resonant roar was a technique only true experts who had reached the Zenith Realm could unleash.
“W-who is it?!”
“What sort of man is this?”
“If you’re so bold, then show yourself!”
At the thieves’ shouts, the one who had answered with that ringing resonant roar finally revealed himself.
“Those who have not learned martial arts act with righteousness, while those who have learned martial arts commit injustice.”
Speaking words that cut straight through the present situation, the man stepped into view.
He was an old man in shabby clothes, with a somewhat eccentric face.
At a glance, he looked like nothing more than a common country farmer living out in the fields. He seemed like an ordinary elderly villager, and there was nothing exceptional about his appearance.
“Pfft, hahahaha. And here I thought it was something.”
“Just some unimpressive old man, isn’t he?”
“Looks like he learned a bit of singing somewhere. Get lost.”
“We don’t really do this whole respecting the elderly thing.”
People who judged by appearances alone still failed to grasp the old man’s true worth and kept sneering without a care.
Swish.
Perhaps because he had endured much hardship in his youth, the elderly man raised two thick, deeply wrinkled fingers.
“What’s with his hand?”
“Is he asking for a pipe or something?”
Just as a few thieves, still unable to read the mood, approached him with murderous intent,
fwoosh.
A very faint sound, yet one that was unmistakably clear, rippled softly beyond the night’s brushwood.
What was strange was that, although everyone had clearly heard something, no one could be certain what it was, or even whether the old man’s two fingers had moved at all.
What happened next was even more astonishing.
Thud. Thud.
Two thieves who had been approaching the shabby old man disrespectfully collapsed on the spot, as limp as puppets whose strings had been cut.
“Hey!”
“What’s wrong with them?”
The thieves who witnessed that absurd sight finally gasped and rushed over in panic to check on their two comrades.
But to their shock... they were already dead.
My God! When did they die?
Hearing their companions’ report, the thieves’ leader shrieked soundlessly in astonishment.
It was only natural. He had not been able to see when or how the attack had struck either.
Even the leader of those fairly capable thieves had only perceived the sound of something being driven in.
“Ah! I found it!”
“Right between the brows of the dead man, dead center... I found a gold needle!”
The thieves, and even Seok Geum-ryong’s party, froze in place. Then the cause of death was uncovered.
At first they had not noticed it, but upon closer inspection, there it was.
Quivering faintly, with not even a hair’s breadth of error, a needle so fine it was like an ox’s hair pin trembled at the exact center of the brow, still lodged in the fatal point.
That was proof that the meager internal energy of this unremarkable country bumpkin was still at work.
A gold needle, astonishingly terrifying hidden-weapon skill, and an utterly ordinary appearance.
Those extraordinary traits tangled together and produced a single conclusion.
At last reaching the answer, the thieves’ leader cried out in alarm, panic thick in his voice.
“Could it be... are you the Golden Needle Venerable, Yeo Gwang-rae?!”
Ohh. Ohhhh!
The moment those words were spoken, the entire area erupted into chaos.
It was only natural, considering the weight carried by that title and name.
“Then that man is...?”
“The Golden Needle Venerable, the legend of our slum?”
“Good heavens!”
Those who were surprised were not only the slum dwellers, who had nothing to do with the martial world.
That was because Yeo Gwang-rae, the Golden Needle Venerable, had been born right here in the Hebei slums.
Smirk.
Only now, hearing the many people and thieves alike recognize him, the Golden Needle Venerable Yeo Gwang-rae, a supreme physician as well as an extraordinary Zenith Realm master, broke into a broad smile.
“That’s right. I am the Golden Needle Venerable.”