Chapter 65: Swift Wind Swordsman Song Yeo-guk (2)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 65: Swift Wind Swordsman Song Yeo-guk (2)
The raucous din inside the inn was enough to make one’s ears ring.
Among the crowd, the voices of a group of menacing men were the loudest. As expected of their sort, they all carried blades at their waists and bore tattoo-like markings on their forearms—the kind of rough characters most people would hesitate to even look at, let alone approach.
Yet, there was one man who, despite his scrawny frame, was drawing everyone’s attention with a noise of his own.
The sound wasn't coming from his voice, but from his eating.
The wet, rhythmic smacking of his lips was grating enough to set anyone's nerves on edge.
“He eats like a damn pig,” Cheol So-yeon remarked sharply.
“Shh.”
At her blunt comment, Hyeok-jin frowned and shot her a warning look. Even if they were dealing with the Unorthodox Faction, if the daughter of a major organization spoke like that so openly, they would find themselves in a fight every time they stopped for a meal.
“Hmph!”
But Cheol So-yeon was Cheol So-yeon. Her grandfather was the Leader of the Golden Martial Association, her brother was one of the Five Dragons, and she had been pampered since the day she was born. She was someone who had long since discarded such trifles as etiquette and manners.
“Please, eat slowly,” Seok Myeong said, his voice laced with genuine concern.
Song Yeo-guk, clutching a duck leg in one hand and a ladle in the other, replied, “I am eating slowly.”
With those words, his hands resumed their frantic motion.
“Hey, are you sure that’s the guy?” Cheol So-yeon asked Seok Myeong, her patience finally snapping.
She had been harboring doubts about the Martial Challenge Letter for a while now. While the Beggar Sect was unrivaled in gathering information within the Jianghu, they were still part of the Orthodox Faction. She wondered if they were simply playing a prank on them. After all, look at the absurd situation they had just faced at the Cheon family estate.
“Brother Seok Myeong, I’m starting to think the same,” Hyeok-jin whispered, his face clouded with reluctance. “Look at the way he eats—it’s like he hasn't seen food in days. He looks like the type to just take a free meal and then tell us to get lost.”
If someone were a renowned master of the Jianghu, they might act haughty toward a junior requesting a duel, but no one would be so thick-skinned as to beg for a meal like this. Why was he stuffing his face and demanding an exorbitant feast when it shouldn't be that hard to simply reveal his sect?
And there was one more thing fueling his prejudice.
“Brother Seok Myeong, that man... he doesn't even have a sword.”
Just as Hyeok-jin pointed out, the man had no blade at his waist. For someone claiming to be from the Qingcheng Sect, which followed the principle of No Sword No Person, one should cherish their sword like a sacred spirit tablet. If no sword was visible, it meant he couldn't possibly be a true disciple of Qingcheng.
The man finished his sixth bottle of liquor, draining it as if it were water.
Belch!
With a thunderous burp, he patted his stomach and finally met their eyes.
“That was a fine meal. Now, where were we?”
The moment he tried to restart the conversation, Seok Myeong replied as if he had been waiting for this exact second.
“I am curious about your relationship with the Qingcheng Sect.”
“Ah, right. You asked about the Qingcheng Sect.”
The man let out a vague sigh. It was unclear whether he was recalling a painful memory or if the food was simply repeating on him. However, his eyes seemed to drift deep into thought.
Soon, he widened his eyes and said, “The Qingcheng Sect. It’s a very fine place. The mountains are beautiful, and the water is clear.”
“Excuse me...”
“Ah, Wolseong Lake was truly wonderful. I used to play there often when I was a child...”
Thud!
“Hey! What do you think you’re doing right now?!”
The sharp-tempered Cheol So-yeon could no longer endure the rambling and slammed her hand on the table as she stood up.
In that moment, Song Yeo-guk gave a short, blunt answer.
“I was there.”
“...”
“I was in the Qingcheng Sect. But I don't belong to any sect anymore. I’m just a common beggar now.”
*
“So, what did you do with your sword?” Seok Myeong asked, his tone turning serious.
“My sword?” Song Yeo-guk repeated the question before continuing. “Ah, the sword. I sold it.”
“Pardon?”
“Yeah, I sold it. I needed money for booze, and I had no other way to get it.”
At that, Seok Myeong’s eyes, which had been calm until now, turned sharp.
The first teaching of Qingcheng is No Sword No Person. If there is no sword, there is no person. If he had sold his sword just for alcohol money, it meant he had either only briefly stayed at Qingcheng without becoming a proper disciple, or he had completely abandoned the spirit of the sect.
As if reading Seok Myeong’s mind, Song Yeo-guk added, “I understand. I know how you must feel. You should be angry, of course. If you’re a disciple of Qingcheng, that is.”
When he admitted it so readily, Seok Myeong suppressed his rising hostility. There might be a side to the story he didn't yet know.
“...Is there a reason for this?”
“A reason... there is. But before that...”
He slowly raised his head and stared intently at Cheol So-yeon.
“What are you looking at?” Cheol So-yeon snapped. She was scowling, her expression making it clear she was ready to fight at any moment if she didn't like his next words.
“You two look good together. Why don't you try dating...”
“You crazy bastard!”
Cheol So-yeon raised her right hand.
Swish!
In an instant, something blurred through the air, and Song Yeo-guk’s chair suddenly flipped backward.
Crash!
The exchange was so blindingly fast that Seok Myeong was the only one who saw exactly what had occurred.
“What are you doing?!”
At Hyeok-jin’s urgent cry, Cheol So-yeon simply shook her head.
“Don't worry. It wasn't a dagger meant to kill.”
Unlike her, who spoke as if it were nothing, Hyeok-jin couldn't hide his shock. He had never properly seen her martial prowess before, assuming she was somewhere between second-rate and first-rate. But to see such a rapid Flying Dagger Art that his eyes couldn't even track... He never imagined she possessed such high-level martial arts.
“It’s a fight!”
“Oho!”
The eyes of everyone in the inn were instantly drawn to their table. Even without looking around, one could feel the weight of the many gazes fixed upon them.
A moment passed.
Cheol So-yeon, who was about to sit back down, froze, her eyes widening in shock. Surprisingly, Song Yeo-guk, who had just been sent sprawling, was standing up as if nothing had happened.
“Well, the old saying is never wrong.”
“...!”
“They say the prettier the woman, the rougher her hands.”
Cheol So-yeon’s eyes twitched. She had definitely aimed for his shoulder. It was a perfect throw in terms of both posture and timing. Furthermore, the distance was point-blank. Yet, he seemed completely unharmed.
“If you’re going to use daggers, you need to keep your breathing steady. Take that as advice for the future... Hm? This isn't a lethal blade.”
Cheol So-yeon was shocked for a second time. The dagger she had thrown was now held casually in the man’s hand.
The distance was less than half a yard. Even though she had only put about ten percent of her internal energy into the throw, it was a distance where even a decent master would find it difficult to react, let alone dodge.
Even Brother Cheol Gun couldn't have evaded at this range.
She looked at the man again. An inexplicable sense of dread began to wash over her.
“This is why I said you two suit each other. To handle a soft fellow like him, a spirited woman is the best. Hahaha!”
He laughed boisterously.
Thud!
But the laughter didn't last long. He suddenly grew woozy and collapsed face-first onto the table.
“Good grief.”
It seemed that six bottles of liquor were too much for someone who had been starving for a long time.
*
“How is he?” Hyeok-jin asked Seok Myeong as he entered the room.
Since Song Yeo-guk had passed out drunk, they had ended up staying at the inn for the night.
“I’ve settled him in his room,” Seok Myeong said with a smile. Despite his fatigue, his expression remained bright.
“You’re working hard, Brother.”
“No, you’re the one suffering. You’re going through all this trouble just because you met me. The money, too.”
Most of their travel expenses came from Hyeok-jin’s pocket. Seok Myeong always felt guilty about that.
“Don't say that. Think of how much money we got from the Cheon family. I’m the one carrying it, but it’s your money, Brother. More importantly, are you alright?” Hyeok-jin waved off the concern and asked with a serious face. “Your complexion hasn't looked good since he mentioned Qingcheng.”
“Does it show that much?”
“Yes.”
“Haha. I suppose we have spent quite a bit of time together. It seems it’s not easy to fool you.”
Seok Myeong smiled and admitted it. Unlike his usual self, he wasn't in a good mood.
“Ah, are you bothered by what he said?”
“Yes, it’s bothering me.”
“Don't think too deeply about it. To me, he clearly seems like a crackpot. Aren't there plenty of men in Qingcheng who never received any attention?”
“Perhaps.”
“I’m sure of it. And who knows? Maybe everything he said was a lie...”
“That’s not it.” Seok Myeong shook his head and stood up. “Go to sleep first.”
Seok Myeong stepped outside for a moment. It was a night where not a single soul was in sight. Unlike the daytime, this area became deserted at night. The air around the inn was chilly.
“Be more like Song Mun than Song Hak.”
Those were the words the man had spoken earlier. As Seok Myeong was washing the drunken man and laying him on the bed, he had muttered those words like he was talking in his sleep.
By mentioning Song Hak and Song Mun, he had proven himself to be a man of Qingcheng.
Seok Myeong sat on a stone wall and sank into thought.
“Perhaps he was also an Azure Cloud Taoist...”
In Qingcheng, the only ones who held Song Mun in higher regard than Song Hak were the Taoists of the Azure Cloud lineage. This was because Song Mun had always been friendly toward them.
The Azure Cloud Taoists.
They were the Taoists who improved the martial arts of Qingcheng through various methods. Because they each conducted different research, there were secular disciples among them as well as direct disciples. While they primarily researched internal energy heart methods, there were also Azure Cloud Taoists who studied various other fields such as sword techniques, fist methods, leg techniques, palm methods, and external gate qigong.
That was why the vast Azure Moon Secret Pavilion was packed with so many books. He remembered there being about five of them left until he had joined.
“Is he... a senior?”
He had many thoughts, and even more things he wanted to ask. Because of that, he felt grateful for the long night ahead.
*
“Phew... Dammit.”
After returning to her room, Cheol So-yeon found it difficult to fall asleep. A cold sensation seemed to crawl up her spine and strike the crown of her head.
She had aimed for his shoulder. Her aim had been unerring. It was a perfect movement that anyone would have admired.
Yet, he had blocked it so easily. If he had dodged it or snatched it out of the air, she could have understood. Masters often displayed martial prowess beyond imagination.
But he hadn't even made such a movement. She clearly hadn't seen him dodge or catch it, yet when she looked later, he was holding it. That was the mystery.
“If you’re going to use daggers, you need to keep your breathing steady? What does that even mean?”
Cheol So-yeon had shown exceptional talent for hidden weapons since she was a child. She had a genius-like ability to track fast-moving objects and hit them with small knives or flying daggers.
However, the Golden Martial Association primarily used swords and sabers. While they did use daggers, they didn't have any masters famous enough to make a name for themselves in the Jianghu; such masters were mostly found in Sichuan. Consequently, after she had mastered the basics of the Flying Dagger Art, there was no teacher capable of instructing her further. Masters who had achieved greatness through hidden weapons were rare.
Fortunately, they had invited masters from the nearby Tang Family to teach her, and thanks to that, her stagnant skills had improved by leaps and bounds once more. However, once her skills surpassed the first-rate level, the Tang Family became reluctant to send anyone, and she lost her opportunity to learn.
As a result, her martial arts progress was currently stalled. There was no clear solution or breakthrough.
In the midst of that, the man named Song Yeo-guk had cast a stone into the still waters of her mind, and the ripples it created refused to leave her head.
“Why did he end up like that?”
As she focused on the meaning of his words, her interest naturally shifted toward the man himself. Why had he become a wreck, and why had he abandoned his sword? What kind of unspeakable story could lead a man from Qingcheng to throw away his blade? Various questions swirled in her mind, making sleep impossible.
It was a long night for her as well.