Chapter 140. Lady? Do You Know the Lady?
Gu Yeomjung flapped his arms like an owl and perched on a tree branch. The full moon was just two days away, bathing the night in brilliant light that felt like midday to him.
His eyes immediately caught two men blasting sword qi at each other with explosive bursts.
Those bastards must be the leaders.
Glancing to the side, he saw one slamming the other's face into the ground before kicking him in the gut and sending him staggering back.
This lot's in a dogfight. Two corpses. One short?
There should be seven in total. Gu Yeomjung swept his gaze across the courtyard, locking eyes with men sitting by the gate wall, watching intently.
Those guys—from Manbok Guest House. Pale faces mean internal injuries. So eight? Still one missing.
Then he realized there should only be one from the Bi Sword Sect. The one firing sword qi must be it. But what about that kid?
Right then, the young one hurled his sword.
A flying sword? So the kid's from the Bi Sword Sect too.
Gu Yeomjung had heard of the Bi Sword Sect's fame but never seen their arts. He jumped to the wrong conclusion—a reasonable mistake.
The sword curved in a cunning arc, piercing the opponent's right shoulder. The struck man, vicious as ever, didn't even pull it out. He charged forward, swinging his left fist at the youth.
Bam!
The kid was no slouch either. He thrust both palms out in a counter that resembled the Kong family's Split Palm Strike. Still just a dogfight. Nothing more to see.
Gu Yeomjung made his call. The order was to capture one alive if possible... but more captives meant greater merit.
Zhang Tianhu and five White Tigers. Those two experts are worn out. If I can't bag them, I might as well quit eating.
Gu Yeomjung drew a deep breath, infusing it with inner energy, and bellowed.
"Halt! Drop your weapons—all of you!"
Won Seung's flying sword wasn't just tossed—it carried the Bi Sword Sect's sword intent, curving slyly into its target. Gwak Gyo tried to swat it away but missed, taking it through his right shoulder. Fangs bared in fury, he barreled forward with a wild punch.
Won Seung countered with Split Palm technique. In his bid to save Gi Seung-gyo, he'd thrown everything into the short sword, then the flying sword, leaving his inner energy momentarily depleted as he slid back.
That's when a thunderous voice boomed.
"Halt! Drop your weapons—all of you!"
The arrival of a new Peak Expert made Gi Seung-gyo and the Sa-do Young Lord break off and retreat.
Gok Sang and Ju Gwan-in rushed over, while Gwak Gyo staggered to encircle the Sa-do Young Lord. Gok Sang whispered to him.
"Jin Yi Wei. Get out of here. We'll handle the rest."
The Sa-do Young Lord ground his teeth. He'd thought he and his five experts could easily take the Bi Sword Sect disciple. But they weren't pushovers.
And that bastard.
The Sa-do Young Lord glared at Won Seung, who stared right back.
You're fucked. That's what his eyes said.
Spotting the owl on the branch, the Sa-do Young Lord saw more owls lining the wall one by one—all Peak Experts. Then came men aiming crossbows. The wall was soon packed with them.
The Sa-do Young Lord grunted and sent a transmission to his men.
Don't fight. Surrender. Stay alive, and I'll get you out.
Gwak Gyo was badly wounded, Gok Sang and Ju Gwan-in drained of inner energy. Breaking the Jin Yi Wei encirclement with them was impossible.
The Sa-do Young Lord leaped to the rooftop.
"Hmph! Don't think you can escape!"
Gu Yeomjung kicked off the branch and flew after him. The Jin Yi Wei White Tigers on the wall followed suit.
Crack!
The Sa-do Young Lord stomped through the tiles and soared up. A gaping hole yawned in the roof.
That fucker!
Won Seung's heart sank with the ruined roof.
Quiet entry into the imperial capital? Ruined by that prick. Sighing at the owls lining the wall, Won Seung said.
Jin Yi Wei swarming like this.
His gut throbbed from Gwak Gyo's kick. Won Seung glared at him.
"You'll pay dearly for what you've done!"
Then he raised both hands high.
"I'm the master of this house. Just fending off thieves."
Claiming to be the homeowner did Won Seung no good. He was hauled off with Gi Seung-gyo and the Man Sword Mountain experts to the Jin Yi Wei prison.
"Tch!"
The Jin Yi Wei pressure-pointed them, fed them meridian-sealing poison, and bound them in iron chains for good measure. They ignored Won Seung's claim of not being a martial artist.
The poison didn't faze him, of course. And the pressure points? His yin-yang corresponding acupoints resonated, clearing them automatically—a trick even he hadn't known. Still, he played the part, shambling feebly.
The massive Jin Yi Wei prison had few empty cells. Won Seung ended up sharing with Gi Seung-gyo.
How many did they nab to fill it up?
At least not crammed with Man Sword Mountain goons.
Pondering his next move, Won Seung heard Gi Seung-gyo speak.
"That last flying sword... where'd you learn it?"
"Huh?"
Doubt clouded Gi Seung-gyo's eyes.
Oh. He saw that.
Won Seung hesitated, then asked.
"First, I need to know if you're really a Bi Sword Sect disciple."
"I'm not a disciple."
"What?"
What the hell?
"But I have learned their arts."
"You're not Im Cho-ye's martial uncle?"
Sharp light flashed in Gi Seung-gyo's eyes.
"Lady? You know the lady?"
Lady? What was going on? Wasn't he Im Cho-ye's uncle?
"If your lady is Im Cho-ye... yeah, I know her. I saved her."
"You saved Lady Cho-ye?"
Won Seung replied to Gi Seung-gyo's shock.
"Hmm. Looks like we have a lot to talk about. I'm ready to tell the truth."
"Start by revealing who you really are."
"Told you. Joo Neung, senior disciple of Sichuan's Split Fist Hall."
Won Seung didn't bat an eye.
"Joo Neung, stop!"
Walking a quiet back road on the outskirts of Sangyang, Joo Neung startled.
Who the hell?
Posing as a merchant, who'd sniffed out his real identity? Only the Dang Clan or Peng family could track him. Joo Neung dropped his load, spun, and drew his sword.
Two men stood there, puzzled by his sudden draw. The rough-looking one eyed Joo Neung's face and sword.
The others glanced behind him. Turning, Joo Neung saw a limping old man with a cane slowly facing them. Two more men blocked the old man's path.
The rough man said to Joo Neung.
"Little brother, don't get heroic over nothing."
"...!"
Perplexed, Joo Neung heard the old man speak.
"Listen to them, lad."
Only then did he realize they were after the cripple, not him. Unreal. Another Joo Neung? What a coincidence.
But as scion of a righteous clan, he couldn't stand by while black dao thugs harassed a disabled elder.
"I don't know the details, but leave the poor old man alone."
"Hey, we gave you an out. Why butt in?"
Joo Neung raised his sword; the cane swept out, nudging it aside.
The old Joo Neung told the young one.
"This is my business. Step back."
Turning to the thugs, he asked.
"New faces... where you from?"
"None of your business. Just die."
The men charged with raised blades. Those behind drew theirs too. Unthinkingly, young Joo Neung parried the rear attackers.
One slashed down; Joo Neung sidestepped, unleashing Split Sword technique.
Clang!
Metal screamed. Another swung his saber at Joo Neung's waist. He twisted away.
No more talk from the men. Pro assassins, clearly.
But then.
"Argh!"
"Gah!"
In that instant, old Joo Neung dispatched the men before him. A sword like an iron skewer gleamed in his hand—hidden in the cane.
Old Joo Neung spun, slaughtering the rest in a blink.
"You thought I'd just been scraping by? Sending small fry like this..."
He spat coldly at the four corpses. Young Joo Neung's jaw dropped.
The cripple... was a master?
Old Joo Neung turned to him.
"Young hero, your name?"
"I... I'm Unsaeng."
"Unsaeng? Rings a bell... Don't meddle in others' affairs. Value your life."
He slotted the sword back into the cane and limped away.
Young Joo Neung stood stunned, then fled the bodies into an alley.
His destination: a dingy roadside inn on the outskirts. Barely an inn—a poor homeowner renting a spare room and cooking for guests.
Pushing the creaky door, Joo Neung entered a small yard with a thatched annex for guests—two rooms.
He knocked on the left.
"Madam, your disciple's back."
"Come in."
A middle-aged woman's voice. Inside, Madam and junior sister Gyeong Yeon-hwa greeted him. Cooped up, they must be bored stiff.
"Any money?"
"Not yet."
Madam's face fell.
"What if something went wrong?"
"Won't happen. Senior Brother Go's father handled it personally. Money'll come soon. You know his savvy."
Following Won Seung's advice, Joo Neung had grabbed what he could, fled Split Fist Hall with Madam and Gyeong Yeon-hwa. He left the hall's sale to Go's father, asking proceeds be wired to the front.
No funds yet. Travel from Sichuan to Sangyang had drained them; now this fringe flop.
"Good news—I found work."
"Work?"
"Hwacheong Pavilion... hired as a guard."
"A tavern?"
"Big one in Sangyang. Decent pay."
Madam darkened.
"Split Fist Hall's senior disciple, a tavern guard..."
"Just temporary. Bowing in hard times isn't shame."
Couldn't admit it was a brothel. Joo Neung grinned, pulling makeup from his bosom for Gyeong Yeon-hwa.
"Yeon-hwa, ran out? Got signing bonus today."
"..."
Tears welled as she took it.
"Wrong pick?"
"No."
Gyeong Yeon-hwa, Split Fist Hall's only daughter, had strutted Joryeon streets. Now hiding in this strange backwater? Infuriating. But no whining before big senior brother.
"Go buy food. Big senior brother's an idiot."