Bonus Lesson: Five Dragons Golden Claw
Ju Neung widened his eyes and demanded.
"Tell me. Why am I in danger, and how can I survive it?"
Won Seung asked.
"The Sichuan Feng Clan is an enormous tiger of a family. So why are they so desperate to buy a tiny martial arts hall in Joryeon, of all places, instead of somewhere in Seongdo?"
"……?"
You don't know? You've got a lot to learn.
Won Seung changed the subject.
"What made you suspect the Dang Clan?"
"Not the Dang Clan itself—I suspected Dang Dok Su."
"Dang Dok Su?"
"He's a collateral branch member running a massive trading company in Sichuan. I've heard their dealings with the Sichuan Feng Clan are huge. He visited my master often before he passed. He was acting on behalf of the Sichuan Feng Clan to buy the Bokho Hall."
"That does sound suspicious enough."
Won Seung chimed in agreement.
"With your master gone, the Bokho Hall plot must've gone to the Sichuan Feng Clan by now, right?"
"My master's widow is still hesitating. He intended to leave the hall to me. She said she'd decide once I returned."
"Hmm. Standing firm against land coveted by a powerful clan isn't wise. The Sichuan Feng Clan are founding contributors, after all. Your master's widow will soon end up like a freshwater fish with parasites."
"!"
"Sichuan Escort Agency is run by Dang Dok Su, isn't it? You planned to infiltrate enemy territory for evidence? Gutsy, but Dang Dok Su's probably thrilled. He might've sent you off to the distant capital to deal with your master's widow. Or... you could meet bandits on that long escort route to Huangdo and die."
Ju Neung's face darkened gravely.
"No such dangers have happened yet."
"They'd need every hand on the way there. Taking you out near Sichuan on the return trip makes perfect sense."
"But how do you know all this? It's not something you could guess from the little I told you."
Won Seung pulled out a tabloid.
"To survive in the jianghu, you gotta read stuff like this."
Ju Neung read the Bokho Hall article and fumed.
"These bastards are demons. Profiting off someone else's misfortune like this."
"Trash, right? Stay cool, brother Ju. That's how the world works."
A sixteen-year-old boy lectured an eighteen-year-old youth.
"If you get stabbed and dumped by the roadside, all sorts of bugs will swarm your corpse and pick it clean. No mercy there—just the laws of nature."
"Why tell me all this?"
"I know someone like you. Felt too close to home."
Ju Neung thought for a moment, then stood.
"Anyway, I can't sell my identity."
With that, he left alone.
Start over from scratch?
Won Seung sighed.
Who knew entering Huangdo would be this tricky?
He glanced at the untouched food and drink on the table. He called the waiter over and asked him to pack it up. The waiter gave him a look like he'd seen every type of weirdo, then brought a bamboo lunchbox and packed the booze and snacks.
Watching the waiter's brusque movements, Won Seung suddenly felt a chill. It reminded him of his maternal grandfather and mother.
No one to bring it to, yet he insists on packing the food and drink... Proof that Lee family blood runs in my veins too?
Winter had crept in, and nights were quite chilly. Clutching the bamboo box, Won Seung headed back to his inn. No one passed by.
Walking along the ditch, Won Seung stopped. His gaze turned to the ditch bank. Under the faint moonlight, one person fled while two pursued.
The fugitive staggered like he was wounded but fled desperately. His build looked familiar.
Ju Neung?
How long had it been since he left the tavern? Already getting beat up?
"Brother Ju, over here!"
Won Seung shouted down from the ditch path. Ju Neung spotted him and ran over, clutching his side. His pursuers charged with momentum, about to catch him any second. Won Seung picked up a roadside stone and hurled it.
The chasers dodged aside and glared at Won Seung. They hesitated briefly, then dismissed him as just a kid and resumed chasing Ju Neung.
By then, Ju Neung reached Won Seung.
"Run, quick!"
"Gasp, blood?"
Won Seung inhaled sharply at Ju Neung's blood-soaked hand gripping his side.
"Stabbed?"
"Cowardly ambush from behind!"
Sigh. Bokho Hall's top disciple won't last long in this brutal jianghu. Ambushes are always from behind. Calling it cowardly—what can you do?
Won Seung watched Ju Neung approach with pitying eyes.
"Run already! Those guys are pro assassins."
Won Seung eyed the pursuers. They'd closed to three zhang and halted. Pros? More like low-rent black dao fixers.
"Dang the escort head must be impatient. Killing you right here in Huangdo instead of en route."
"Urk!"
Ju Neung tried to speak but staggered and passed out. He'd lost too much blood fleeing after the stab.
Won Seung caught him and laid him aside, facing the black-clad men. They wore fairly cold expressions.
The square-jawed one with a short beard eyed Won Seung and said.
"Too bad."
That single phrase told Won Seung they planned to kill him too.
"Who put out the contract?"
The men stayed silent, but their eyes said they didn't know. Probably orders from above. The heavy blood scent suggested they weren't elite assassins but decent black dao fixers with some skill.
One circled to block Won Seung's retreat. The front one charged.
Shick!
The dagger blade glinted in the dim moonlight. Won Seung thrust out his left hand and clamped the man's arm.
"Hup!"
The man widened his eyes in shock. Instantly, the rear one closed in and stabbed. Won Seung sidestepped slightly, yanking the captured arm.
A full jiazi of inner energy. The man couldn't resist and was flung back into his partner. In a flash, Won Seung twisted the arm, driving the blade into the second man's chest. Lightning-fast work.
"Gah!"
As the stabbed man wheezed from punctured lungs, Won Seung snatched his wrist and plunged it into the first attacker's gut.
"Keurk!"
The man groaned as the blade sank into flesh. His eyes bulged. He couldn't fathom the technique. Won Seung still held the bamboo box in his right hand.
One stabbed in the chest, the other in the gut—they collapsed. Fatal wounds. They died swiftly.
"Sorry... but you saw my face. No choice. We'll call it a mutual kill in a brawl."
Won Seung pulled a liquor bottle from the box and splashed their faces. Booze scent filled the air. Looked like drunken thugs who fought to the death.
Then he hoisted Ju Neung and vanished. The path reeked only of thick liquor and blood.
Moments later, a patrol passed, saw the drunken mutual killers, and blew his whistle.
"Ugh...."
Ju Neung awoke in an unfamiliar room. He tried to rise but grimaced. Agonizing pain from the stab wound in his back, and he had no strength.
What happened?
After parting with Won Seung, nearing the inn, someone blocked an alley. Sensing threat, he felt presence behind—then the blade hit as he tried to evade with footwork.
He recalled fleeing wildly and spotting Won Seung.
—Better than you, Brother Ju.
Won Seung's words from when he'd dodged his attack flashed by.
Did he save me?
His abdomen was bandaged, golden wound salve scent wafting.
Forcing himself up as the door opened, Won Seung entered.
"Don't push it. Deep stab. Impressive you escaped in that state."
"Thanks. You're my lifesaver."
"Damn right."
If he'd let him die there, he could've naturally assumed Ju Neung's identity.
"What about them?"
"Killed each other fighting."
Ju Neung didn't get it but thanked Won Seung again for the rescue.
"Where are we?"
"Remote inn. You can't go back to Sichuan Escort Agency now, Brother Ju."
"What?"
"Black dao fixers. Dang the escort head hired 'em. Rookie escort getting stabbed wandering a shady district at night? Happens all the time. That's probably the plan."
Ju Neung's face hardened.
"Why? Got valuables at the inn?"
Classic Won Seung thinking.
"No, just clothes. But... did Dang the escort head really try to kill me?"
Sigh... At this rate, you'd be better off asking King Yama who killed you. Can't you tell?
"Could be you. Trying to steal my identity."
Is he really this naive? Doesn't seem dumb, but goes stupid at key moments. Keep that inside. Who says it aloud?
Won Seung inwardly sighed, thinking saving Ju Neung wouldn't be easy.
Well, if he died quietly, that'd suit him fine....
Won Seung stared at Ju Neung and said.
"If so, you'd already be buried in some deserted mountain."
Ju Neung fell silent in thought.
Won Seung offered a pouch with ten taels of silver.
"No need to overthink. Take this, head back to Sichuan fast. Get to Bokho Hall before Sichuan Escort Agency, pack up, take your master's widow and junior sister, and hide. Build your strength. A martial artist stabbed by black dao fixers... embarrassing. I'll keep it secret till I die."
"You want my identity?"
"Mutual benefit. Me posing as Ju Neung here... muddies the waters for Dang Clan and Sichuan Feng Clan. Makes you safer. I'm taking on Ju Neung's risks."
Ju Neung pondered, then nodded. If he died here, no one to protect his master's widow and junior sister.
"Best golden wound salve—you'll move in days. Teach me some martial arts till then."
"Martial arts?"
Ju Neung frowned. Identity and martial arts?
"Your master was a lay disciple of the Kongtong Sect, right? To live as Ju Neung, I need Kongtong arts. In exchange, I'll teach you a sword art. Spectrum Sword Art—pretty damn good. Bonus: Five Dragons Golden Claw too."
The skill that killed those two men stemmed from Five Dragons Golden Claw.
Ju Neung nodded readily. This incident taught him strength came first.
They exchanged arts. Ju Neung taught Won Seung Bokho Sword Art and Bokho Palm.
Mastering the initial forms of Bokho Sword Art, Won Seung was mildly surprised.
"Kongtong's Taoist, aren't they? Why's this sword art so vicious?"
"Gansu is frontier land. Frequent raids by bandits and foreigners. Makes sense their sword arts turned brutal."