One Mountain Cannot Hold Two Tigers
Whoosh—
Uncheon left the shrine as quickly as he could, the old man on his back.
A short while earlier, after leaving Yanghu Inn, he had tailed Moyong San and Yuryeong. They never noticed his presence all the way to the shrine. Inside, a man from the Moyong Family held the old man captive.
He knows the location of the mine where Moyongjeok is hiding?
Uncheon had been waiting for his chance when the black-hatted man appeared at the shrine at just the right moment. Every gaze turned toward the newcomer, and Uncheon moved. Once he had put a short distance between them and the shrine, no one remained nearby. He set the old man down.
“Are you all right?”
He already knew the old man could not hear. He could not speak either. Uncheon examined what had been done to the frail body.
Damn it… they sealed the Mute Gate and Ear Gate acupoints on a helpless old man.
The restraint itself was nothing more than ordinary acupoint sealing, yet the victim was no martial artist. Used on a weak elder who knew nothing of the martial path, those points had been enough to steal both hearing and voice. Had Uncheon known sooner, he might have released them in time. Too long had already passed for a full recovery.
A pang of guilt stirred in him. For all their proud talk of righteousness, the great families never hesitated to act with ruthless self-interest when their own power was at stake.
Still, one of them hasn’t completely hardened.
Fortunately the Ear Gate point did not seem fully set. Taking the old man’s hand, Uncheon carefully circulated his inner energy and began to dissolve the qi blocking the meridian. After a moment the old man felt his hearing clear, as though a fog had lifted.
Uncheon spoke gently, careful not to startle him.
“Elder, if you can hear my voice, nod your head.”
A nod.
By heaven’s mercy, releasing the Ear Gate point had restored his hearing.
“But I can’t fix your voice. I’m sorry.”
The old man looked regretful, yet he smiled and shook his head. Through those eyes Uncheon understood the silent message: it was all right.
“Did the Hebei Peng Family silence you, Elder?”
Another nod.
Uncheon read the thoughts behind the gesture. Moyongjeok had given the Hebei Peng men the mine’s location so they would come looking for him.
Gae-ran Twenty-Eight Mines, Tunnel Nine Hundred.
Yet knowing the name meant nothing if one knew nothing of the mine itself. The surest way was to take the old man along, but that was far too dangerous.
“Elder, can you picture the path to the Gae-ran Twenty-Eight District, Tunnel Five Hundred in your mind?”
The old man’s eyes flew wide. Even this young man knew the very place the Hebei Peng martial artists had been asking about.
He nodded and began to recall every detail—the way up to the mine entrance, the route through the tunnels once inside. Uncheon read it all.
Got it.
“Yes. Well done. Thank you.”
The old man let out a weary breath.
What do I do with him now?
Uncheon knew no one in Tangshan, nor any safe hiding place.
“Is there somewhere you could hide? Nod if something comes to mind.”
A nod.
The old man thought carefully, just as instructed.
“All right. I’ll carry you. Point the way with your finger.”
Whoosh, whoosh—
The old man marveled at the speed with which they moved. Feeling a martial artist’s lightfoot technique with his own body, he finally understood why such men were spoken of with awe. He tapped Uncheon’s back to guide them. Their path led westward into Nonam County, weaving among the houses. Villagers were about, yet none saw the youth carrying an old man on his back.
Tap, tap.
The old man signaled a halt. Uncheon slipped carefully into a house. A middle-aged man inside started at the sudden appearance, then froze in greater shock when he saw the elder climb down from Uncheon’s back.
“Ah… Father?”
“The elder has been through an ordeal and cannot speak.”
The middle-aged man’s eyes fell on the sword at Uncheon’s waist and knew him at once for a martial artist.
“You know martial artists have poured into Tangshan, don’t you?”
“Yes… I do.”
He had heard the rumors. People were already whispering that one should not wander outside for fear of running into them.
“They will be looking for this man. If they learn he is here, something terrible will happen. Be careful at all times.”
“……”
“No one knows he came here. Keep him hidden until the martial artists leave Tangshan.”
“Ah… yes. I understand.”
“If they find him, I cannot guarantee even your life. If anyone else learns of this, it will mean disaster.”
“No one comes looking here. I’ll make sure no one knows.”
Whoosh—
The instant the man bowed his head, Uncheon’s form vanished without a trace.
Moyong San walked back in grim silence.
This entire affair has been a complete failure.
Yuryeong was dead. The family head had held the man in special regard, even teaching him personally, determined to forge him into one of the finest martial artists under heaven. Among the Bilyeong Guards he had been exceptional—and the black-hatted man had cut that life short. The thought of how to report this upon returning to the Moyong Family filled Moyong San with dread.
In the distance the signboard of Yanghu Inn came into view.
We’ve arrived.
His heart began to pound.
One mountain cannot hold two tigers.
The black-hatted man halted before the entrance to the first-floor hall.
This… aura…
An unusual pressure of inner energy was seeping out from within. He glanced at Moyong San ahead of him.
“Seems someone’s inside.”
“……”
“Is that why you looked so lost in thought earlier?”
“That… is not the case.”
“Heh. I’d like to see just how formidable they are.”
The black-hatted man stepped forward and entered. Inside, hostile gazes locked onto him at once.
Red hair…
There was more than one red-haired man in the Central Plains murim. Yet the black-hatted man knew exactly who this one was.
The one who killed Heukhyeol.
He had half-expected to meet him in Tangshan. At last the target of his vengeance stood before him. Touching the brim of his black hat, he walked slowly forward.
Jeokbalgoein’s lips curved into a murderous smile as he watched the black-hatted man approach with Moyong San.
This bastard… looks like an envoy of the Blood Refining Divine Cult, yet his inner energy is far stronger than that one’s.
Jeokbalgoein had already finished assessing the newcomer’s identity. Moyong San stepped aside and simply watched. He expected killing intent to explode between them at any second, yet events unfolded otherwise.
Jeokbalgoein regarded the approaching man and offered a seat.
“We’ve never met, yet you carry a familiar aura. Will you sit?”
“My thanks.”
The black-hatted man sat opposite him; their eyes met for a fleeting instant. Jeokbalgoein spoke first.
“Judging by the air around you, you seem an envoy of the Blood Refining Divine Cult. What is your name?”
“I am Mun Gu, Doheolsaja.”
“A pleasure. I expect you already know who I am.”
“I too am seeing you for the first time, yet I have heard a great deal. You must be the Red-Haired Weirdo who killed Heukhyeol.”
“You know well.”
Jeokbalgoein eyed the black hat covering Mun Gu’s face and found it irritating.
“This isn’t the open road—doesn’t it feel stifling? I’d like to see your face. Take the hat off if you would.”
“Is there a reason I must show it?”
“A man should know the face of the bastard he intends to kill, don’t you think?”
“Hehehe. They say delusion is free. You truly believe you can kill me.”
“That’s my line. An envoy of the Blood Refining Divine Cult is well within my ability to handle.”
“……”
Mun Gu gave a short, cold laugh and released a wave of killing intent.
“I would advise you that comparing Heukhyeol to me is a grave mistake.”
“You certainly look stronger than him. But drawing lines on a pumpkin doesn’t turn it into a watermelon. An envoy is merely an envoy—not a yaksha.”
Mun Gu’s eyes, fierce enough to pierce the hat that hid them, locked onto his opponent. Tension crackled across the table as though it might ignite at any breath.
“Hehehe. My words hit home, do they? You’re getting excited.”
“Shall we settle it here and now?”
“Of course. If our goals are the same, testing each other in advance doesn’t seem so bad. Don’t you agree?”
Jeokbalgoein was not wrong. Their goal was the Cheonhwangdo Map.
Both men rose. The inner energy they unleashed pressed hard against each other. The very air of the inn grew heavy and oppressive.
This is bad…
Moyong San, alarmed, started for the door. Watching was one thing; staying risked being caught in the blast.
Ssshh—
What…?
A sudden breeze brushed past him as he moved to leave.
Cheongryu Geomhyang…
He saw Uncheon’s back as the youth stepped up beside the two men.
“I wondered who it was—turns out it’s someone I know.”
Uncheon greeted the black-hatted Mun Gu with easy familiarity.
“You…”
“Long time no see. Nice to run into the man who tried to kill me, of all places. Are you two already acquainted as well?”
Jeokbalgoein glanced at Uncheon.
“Blue Stream Sword Fragrance, do you know this man?”
“I nearly died at his hands once myself. We met over the Cheonhwangdo Map then, and it seems today’s business is the same.”
“Hehehe. So that’s how it is. They say even a bad connection becomes fate if you meet often enough. Better to sever it quickly before that happens.”
“Wise words. I’ll take them to heart.”
Mun Gu watched the two chatting as though they were old friends.
If they know each other, this becomes troublesome.
Alone he might manage, but if both attacked at once the fight would turn ugly. While he weighed the odds, Jeokbalgoein’s voice cut in.
“You look rattled, thinking we’d fight side by side. Hehehe. No such intention, so relax.”
“……”
“We should leave it for today. The urge to fight has suddenly gone cold.”
Mun Gu’s gaze flicked to Moyong San still frozen by the door. Seeing the man standing with Uncheon and Jeokbalgoein, he took it to mean they were moving together.
“If the two of you aren’t going to fight right this moment, how about sitting down?”
Jeokbalgoein and Mun Gu continued to glare at each other in silence.
Ssshh—
Jeokbalgoein sat first.
“There will always be other chances to fight.”
“I feel the same.”
Mun Gu followed him down. An awkward stillness settled over the three of them.
Uncheon looked at Mun Gu.
“This is a bit awkward. Would you care for a cup of tea?”
“You’re not slipping anything strange into it, I hope?”
Jeokbalgoein grinned at the reply and muttered under his breath.
“I thought his guts were big. Turns out they’re smaller than a bean.”
“A man doesn’t carelessly drink what others pour.”
Uncheon filled a cup from the pot on the table.
“I can’t swear there’s no poison. I only just arrived myself.”
Mun Gu shot a sour look at the snickering Jeokbalgoein, then drained the cup in one swallow. A cool, clean sensation spread through his still-tense body.
“Seems it tastes decent enough.”
“…Good.”
Mun Gu watched Uncheon refill the cup.
“What are you doing here?”
“If I’ve come to Tangshan, the purpose is probably the same as yours.”
“Have you grown greedy for the Cheonhwangdo Map? And what is your relationship with this man?”
“One question at a time. Hmm. First, I have no greed for it, though I am curious. As for this gentleman—you could call him my employer.”
“Employer?”
“That’s because of you, actually. It’s a little complicated.”
Mun Gu studied Uncheon more carefully as the youth poured tea. The manner of speech and movement were familiar, yet something fundamental had changed.
Not even half a year since I last saw him, and he’s become a different person. Back then he still looked like a boy. Now he carries himself like a man.
“Blue Stream Sword Fragrance… you’ve changed.”
“I’m at the age where a person grows quickly. I’ll keep changing day by day. And lately I’ve met so many overwhelming figures that almost nothing surprises me anymore.”
Jeokbalgoein knew the words were true. Uncheon had stood in the presence of Mu-hong himself.
“How did you end up at this inn?”
“I had business with that fellow.”
“You arrived with Moyong San, who left in such a hurry. What happened?”
“Ask the bastard yourself.”
Mun Gu pointed to Moyong San, who still stood motionless by the entrance. Jeokbalgoein called out at once.
“You’d best come over here.”
Moyong San hurried forward and recounted everything that had occurred from the moment they reached the shrine. When he finished, Jeokbalgoein turned a dry look on Mun Gu.
“This is your doing. By charging into the shrine for no good reason you threw away our chance to find that man. You did someone else a favor. With that level of stupidity I have to wonder whether you can handle any job at all.”
“……”
Mun Gu stared, momentarily speechless, then found his tongue.
“Isn’t it amusing that I have to sit here listening to such nonsense from you?”
“Not amusing. Pitiful.”
Looking at that sly smile, Mun Gu felt the back of his neck stiffen.
“I’m beginning to think we should settle this right now.”
“Eager to do someone else another favor? If it were only the two of us in Tangshan we could fight to our hearts’ content. But you can feel the irritating auras circling us, can’t you?”
Irritating auras?
Mun Gu forced his temper down. It meant people were in Tangshan whom even Jeokbalgoein found troublesome.
“And if we fight, one of us will certainly die. The odds favor it being you, of course—but even if I walk away I’ll be wounded. Facing the others in that condition would be suicide. Am I wrong?”
He was not wrong. Unless lives were already on the line, carelessly starting a battle was folly.
“What do you propose, then?”
“Until we find that man, even if we can’t stand the sight of each other, we each go our own way. Is that so hard?”
“I’ll do so. Whether I can trust your word is another matter.”
“Heh. We were never the sort who could trust each other to begin with. Pretending is good enough.”
Jeokbalgoein looked at Moyong San and spoke as though issuing orders.
“It seems the Moyong Family will have to work hard this time. Watch every move the Hebei Peng Family makes.”
“I… understand.”
“Those people will try every trick to mislead every eye in Tangshan. Stick to even the smallest movement. Do not let them slip.”
“Yes. I’ll keep that in mind.”
Even as he answered, Moyong San could not understand why he was taking orders from these men. Still, he sent word to his subordinates to place the Hebei Peng martial artists under constant watch.
Hummmm—
A deep vibration of inner energy approached the inn.
“This is why the murim is entertaining.”
Jeokbalgoein tensed, eyes fixed on the entrance.
Ssshh—
At that charged moment a figure stepped into the hall.
“Who is that?”
He read the inner energy flowing through the middle-aged man’s body. Strong, yes—but nowhere near enough to have produced the vibration just now. Jeokbalgoein found it strange.
How is that possible? With that level of power he couldn’t have stirred the air like that.
Then, from behind the middle-aged man, another figure emerged—a man clad in yellow robes. A faint golden radiance shimmered around his entire form.
Uncheon rose from his seat and called out in open delight at the first arrival.
“Uncle Dok?”
“Is that Young Master Uncheon? It has been some time.”
The man who had entered first was Wolyeonggwangheun Dokjeonhwa—the same man who had once departed in the company of the Golden Masked One.