Chapter 129. Empty Hands Aren't Lonely (4)
A short while later, Jeong Inji arrived at the training hall, smacking his lips with a bitter expression.
One side of the training hall door lay sprawled on the floor, while the other dangled precariously.
He suddenly remembered that this was the training hall given to Han Bin.
"Not an intruder, but a distinguished guest who turned the place upside down and left. Heh."
Jeong Inji, who had turned to leave, paused at the following voice.
Thud!
The last remaining door panel collapsed as well.
That was when it happened.
A strange sight entered Jeong Inji's view.
The branches patching up the crumbling wall were now swaying from the fallen door, then promptly tumbled down.
As Jeong Inji narrowed his eyes, a subordinate asked,
"Is something wrong, family head?"
"Give me that torch!"
Snatching the torch, Jeong Inji stepped into the training hall.
A bare wall came into view.
The section blocked off by Yi Mu-myeong and Seol-hwa had half crumbled away.
Jeong Inji remembered this space well.
Jeong Inji's father, the previous family head Jeong Muryong, had once described it thus:
'A useless space full of riddles.'
Generation after generation, the Henan Jeong Family had failed to unravel its secrets.
Yet they didn't want to show it to outsiders either.
So it had been sealed off and abandoned.
Before Jeong Inji turned ten, it had been an open space.
That's how he knew of its existence.
Why was this sealed area now breached?
Jeong Inji cautiously peered through the gap.
Instantly, a secret chamber made of millennium rock entered his sight.
Brushing aside the branches, Jeong Inji shone the torch inside.
His mouth fell open immediately.
"Heh..."
Countless sword scars marred the walls.
Unknowingly, Jeong Inji muttered to himself.
"How on earth did they leave such marks on walls of millennium rock? Heh. Is this even possible...?"
At that moment, his subordinate tilted his head and asked,
"Family head, what did you say?"
Snapping back to reality thanks to the subordinate, Jeong Inji planted the torch and ordered,
"Go fetch the family head—no, my father, right away."
He was so flustered he'd nearly forgotten he himself was now the family head.
"Yes, understood."
The subordinate clasped his fists deeply in salute and hurried out of the training hall.
A short while later.
Inside the secret chamber, Jeong Muryong and Jeong Inji stood side by side, facing each other.
Jeong Muryong spoke first.
"One sword path contains another sword path."
"Within the divided sword path lies yet another. Father."
Jeong Inji replied in a trembling voice.
Their eyes reflected the sword paths etched into the wall.
Sword paths within sword paths.
A repeating pattern of sword paths nested inside one another.
Jeong Muryong's eyes rippled like waves in a storm.
It was unmistakably the martial art that formed the prototype for the Henan Jeong Family's secret technique, Fast Sword Hundred Knots—a rapid swordplay that created a hundred knots and wove them like a net.
Truth be told, it would have been ideal if the original form had been passed down intact, but after generations since the secret technique's transmission, only its skeleton remained, or so the tales went.
And from that skeleton, the family's supreme secret technique had been forged.
Jeong Muryong and Jeong Inji caressed the wall gently, as if stroking a child's head.
Here lay techniques with infinite potential—not a mere hundred, but a thousand or more.
Who on earth had left this behind?
Jeong Muryong's shoulders trembled intermittently.
Ecstasy coursed through his entire body.
With these sword paths alone, they could fully restore the prototype of Fast Sword Hundred Knots and then some.
Jeong Inji felt the same.
Seeing his father's expression confirmed his own thoughts were correct.
Father and son gazed at each other.
A moment of silence passed before the father, Jeong Muryong, spoke first.
"Do you know who came and left this place?"
"The fourth young master of the Hebei Paeng Family."
At Jeong Inji's answer, Jeong Muryong looked up at the ceiling and chuckled.
"Heh."
"Ah, Father! There's writing down here."
Jeong Inji hurriedly bent down to check the inscription.
Pahon Geom
The name of the technique was inscribed there.
Jeong Inji quietly recited it.
"Pahon Geom."
"So this technique is called Pahon Geom. Son, but that handwriting..."
As Jeong Muryong trailed off, Jeong Inji continued.
"Y-yes, it matches."
Jeong Inji replied in a quivering voice. It was the same handwriting as on the contract he'd just seen.
The owner was undoubtedly Han Bin, the fourth young master of the Hebei Paeng Family.
Calming his racing heart, Jeong Inji looked at his father.
"What on earth should we call him?"
"I don't know either. Let's just call him Fourth Young Master as he wishes."
"Yes, Father."
Jeong Inji nodded silently.
The day the Henan Jeong Family would soar once more was not far off.
Finishing his thoughts, Jeong Inji bowed deeply to his father, Jeong Muryong.
"Father, my thinking was shortsighted. I even doubted that man's intentions for a moment. As expected, your choice was right. 'For generations to come'—that was the correct decision."
"I'm glad you understand. Thank you. But 'for generations to come'?"
Jeong Muryong tilted his head.
He'd never heard that phrase before.
In truth, while signing the contract with Han Bin, Jeong Muryong had closed his eyes multiple times in lingering regret.
He hadn't examined the fine print closely.
But his thoughts were interrupted by Jeong Inji's next words.
"Father, this is all thanks to your decision."
"Yes. Now, cast aside the pain and let the name of the Henan—no, the Jiangnan Jeong Family resound."
With that, father and son reaffirmed their resolve.
Two days after Han Bin's group departed from the Henan Jeong Family.
They were now just about to pass the entrance to the storied Yeongdan Mountain.
Han Bin leisurely gazed out the carriage window.
But no one knew that what he was really looking at wasn't the scenery outside.
A faint smile spread across Han Bin's lips as he gazed at the Basic Edition of the Yongrin Sword Art.
Having realized that connecting the traces of the Yongrin Sword Art with the user's intent yielded the heart formula for operating True Dragon Soul Scattering Sword, Han Bin had deliberately arranged things to make the traces in the training hall easy to discover after his departure.
The increased number in the heart realm now proved the fruits of that labor.
But why had Han Bin given them such a gift without any conditions?
The reason lay in the countermeasure.
Whether Pahon Geom spread widely or remained the Jeong Family's secret technique—it didn't matter.
What was crucial was that only Han Bin knew the counter.
And what did that mean?
It meant Han Bin stood above the Jeong Family's ultimate secret technique.
That was Han Bin's principle: when giving, give generously, but manage collateral for debts meticulously.
Seol-hwa eyed Han Bin's smile with a worried look.
"Young master, that smile looks a bit off."
"Huh? What's off about it?"
"You're making that villain face again, young master."
"Villain? What villain? This time I really did a good deed. That's why I smiled without thinking."
"Oh, I see."
Seol-hwa nodded with a soulless voice. Just then, Jo Ho rode up on horseback from outside and tossed something through the open window.
Whoosh!
Seol-hwa casually snatched the flying skewer out of the air.
Confirming this, Jo Ho grinned brightly and shouted,
"Seol-hwa! Candy! On the house from your young uncle here!"
Seol-hwa waved at Jo Ho as he rode away.
"Thanks, Uncle Jo Ho!"
After the greeting, she bit into the candy, prompting Han Bin to shake his head.
Seol-hwa now seemed perfectly content with her life, her youthful appearance matching her age naturally.
Han Bin glanced outside the carriage.
Around it stretched a line of wagons laden with goods from the Henan Jeong Family.
They'd come as a small elite group, but the return trip bustled with the Mangho Squad in tow.
Fortunately, just before departure, Gwanggae had visited the Jeong Family.
With promises to visit Cheonsu Manor after finishing Hanan branch affairs, Hong Chilgae had headed to the Henan branch with Gwanggae.
Had Hong Chilgae come along, this place would have been pandemonium.
As they entered the foothills of Yeongdan Mountain, Yi Mu-myeong up ahead raised his hand.
"Halt for a moment."
He galloped back to Han Bin and clasped his fists.
"Master, there are too many human traces ahead. From what I've scouted, Yeongdan Mountain shouldn't have this many signs."
"Hm, I have my suspicions, but..."
Han Bin stroked his chin, lost in thought briefly.
The likely culprit was the unorthodox factions' work at Yeongdan Mountain.
Quite a few had fallen to the Residual Blood Demon back then.
Whether unorthodox or orthodox, recovering fallen comrades was the same.
A little over a month later, they probably hadn't finished yet.
So, no issue.
As Han Bin opened his mouth to speak, Yi Mu-myeong preempted with a fist salute.
"Master, I'll scout ahead."
From the carriage, Seol-hwa chimed in.
"Uncle, better not go."
"What do you mean, Seol-hwa?"
"You look perfect for misunderstanding right now, Uncle."
"Misunderstanding? What are you talking about, Seol-hwa?"
"You look exactly like a bandit. Not like one—a real bandit. I hear even unorthodox folk aren't kind to bandits..."
As Seol-hwa trailed off, Han Bin chuckled unwittingly.
Pfft.
How long had it been since he'd laughed so genuinely?
Han Bin was truly grateful to them.
But Yi Mu-myeong sighed, looking miffed.
"Master! Seol-hwa! Sigh..."
His sigh sent the painstakingly attached chin beard fluttering.
Truth be told, Yi Mu-myeong's beard was a bit excessive.
Disguising with it had turned into a hobby, gradually escalating to this full bandit mustache.
With another sigh, Yi Mu-myeong lightly kicked off the ground and vanished into the mountain path.
As he disappeared, the procession halted briefly.
Everyone chatted amiably here and there.
So Daeseop comforted Mangho Squad members up front, while Jangsan and Jo Ho boasted about their exploits in the Jeong Family from the rear.
Sim Miho assisted Jang Ja-myeong in gathering roadside herbs, per Han Bin's order not to miss any.
As everyone chattered away, Seol-hwa stared blankly at Han Bin.
Noticing her gaze, Han Bin tilted his head.
"What's up, Seol-hwa?"
"Something I'm really curious about."
"Hm, five iron coins for curiosity."
"Ah, young master, I have no money. Even the candy's bought by the uncles..."
"Fine, freebie this once. What's on your mind?"
"Why don't you tell people you're the Azure Cloud Swordsman?"
"Hm, that's too straightforward."
"What's straightforward?"
"The murim world usually sizes up foes before attacking. But suppose word spreads I'm a Hwagyeong master. Who do you think would come calling?"
"Um, other Hwagyeong masters, of course."
"Right. And not some fresh first or second gyeong newbie—third gyeong or higher, itching to topple me and boost their fame. Seol-hwa, do I really look like a Hwagyeong master to you?"
"Well..."
Seol-hwa trailed off.
Han Bin's power was immeasurable.
She couldn't confirm Hwagyeong, nor deny it.
As she hesitated, something occurred to her, and she continued.
"But Grandpa Hong Chilgae didn't stop spreading the Azure Cloud Swordsman's fame."
"Sure, it's a free gain for him—no skin off his nose. If people want the Azure Cloud Swordsman, who do they seek?"
"Well..."
"Exactly, me. I'm the only one officially linked to the Azure Cloud Swordsman!"
Han Bin proudly thumbed at himself. Seol-hwa gaped before managing,
"So, does that mean..."