Chapter 230
Chapter 230
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 230
Chapter Title: To Shaoxing (1)
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In a manor in the city of Liuhe, located about seventy ri northwest of Nanjing.
Yeongho Jung, known to be in the Jeongcheon Alliance, had arrived leading his subordinates.
Even though it was a distance that could be reached in half a day to the Yeongho Clan if one pushed hard, Yeongho Jung could not move.
He wanted to rush there in one go and sweep away the traitors who had seized the clan home, but he could not.
It just so happened that, with the attack right around the corner, the Sword Pavilion and Sima Geon’s group had arrived in Nanjing.
“Clan Lord.”
To the quiet voice, Yeongho Jung, who had closed his eyes and sunk deep into thought, slowly opened them.
“Come in.”
With permission granted, the door opened, and a diminutive man entered cautiously—Jwa Gong, deputy leader of the Wingless Unit, who oversaw all intelligence for the Yeongho Clan.
“Deputy Leader of the Wingless Unit Jwa Gong pays respects to the Clan Lord.”
Jwa Gong knelt and offered his obeisance.
“No need for formalities. Sit.”
As Jwa Gong took the seat opposite, Yeongho Jung poured him tea.
Quite some time had passed since it was brewed, and the tea had gone cold.
“I heard most of the Wingless Unit men left behind in the clan were rounded up and detained. They surely knew you were my devoted retainer, yet you made it through unscathed.”
Jwa Gong spoke calmly.
“Fortunately, I was out on external business when the rebels seized the clan.”
“Even so, the surveillance must have been tight. You endured well.”
Unlike Baek An, the unit leader who pledged loyalty solely to the clan lord’s position rather than the man himself, Yeongho Jung had long been followed by Jwa Gong. He gazed at him now with warm eyes.
“It was luck.”
“I hope that luck holds to the end.”
“It will.”
Jwa Gong’s voice rang with conviction, and a smile tugged at Yeongho Jung’s lips—he liked that.
“In any case, now that you’re here, tell me how things stand at the clan.”
He knew the broad strokes from the many reports, but Yeongho Jung preferred hearing the finer details straight from Jwa Gong’s mouth over the limited scope of writing.
Jwa Gong swiftly and precisely recounted everything from the moment Yeongho Gi—who had vanished from Phoenix Mountain—returned to the clan, up to the present.
As he filled in the gaps the reports had missed, Yeongho Jung’s expression shifted dramatically with each revelation.
“Phew... In the end, no one loyal to me remains at the main house.”
At Yeongho Jung’s sigh, Jwa Gong shook his head.
“That’s how it appears on the surface. But if the Clan Lord returns in force, it can be resolved. The real issue, though...”
“The issue?”
“The Blood Slaughter Cult.”
“Mm.”
A groan slipped unbidden from Yeongho Jung’s lips.
“We must refute their claim that the Clan Lord is tied to the Blood Slaughter Cult.”
“How? The evidence is ironclad.”
“Not really. All they have is Elder Yeongho Pyeong’s testimony. From what I’ve checked, even that came under bone-shattering torture. We can spin it as a false confession broken by agony—plenty of room to counter. Or we sacrifice just the elder alone.”
Yeongho Jung’s brow hardened.
“You mean frame him as a Blood Slaughter Cult spy?”
“Yes.”
“Hah!”
The answer was so resolute it didn’t even spark anger. Yeongho Jung gave a bitter smile.
“You know full well I am connected to the Blood Slaughter Cult.”
“It’s a dog-eat-dog world of murim. Sure, you borrowed their strength, but you never bent the knee completely, did you? It was the Clan Lord who expanded the Yeongho Clan’s reach from Nanjing and its outskirts across all murim, who birthed the Jeongcheon Alliance. If anything, they just hitched a ride.”
“True enough, but...”
After a pause, Yeongho Jung listlessly touched his head.
“The Soul-Seizing Poison they planted is right here.”
Jwa Gong’s eyes flickered for an instant before steadying.
“I’ll find a way to excise it.”
“Possible?”
“I’ll make it so.”
Hot resolve flared in Yeongho Jung’s gaze at those words.
“If you can, cutting ties with the Blood Slaughter Cult is child’s play. But first priority: reclaim the clan.”
“Yes.”
“Has the Sword Pavilion left? Sima Geon’s group?”
Yeongho Jung first asked after those most likely to block retaking the Yeongho Clan.
“Yes. Sword Pavilion boarded a boat around midday. Sima Geon’s group hit the road right after. Looks like they’re heading home. Oh, and the Oryongdae with them? They rendezvoused with reinforcements from their main house and left Nanjing on the spot.”
“A handful of leftover Oryongdae? No threat.”
Yeongho Jung scoffed.
“One thing nags at me, though.”
“What?”
“Last night, Beggars’ Sect branch leaders visited Sima Geon’s group. Young Master Yeongho Gi tagged along.”
Yeongho Jung’s thick brows twitched.
“Yeongho Gi?”
“Yes. Seems he asked for aid.”
“Aid... Don’t tell me he sniffed out that I’m here?”
“Beggars’ Sect intel would’ve caught wind that the Clan Lord left Jeongcheon Alliance by now. But pinning your exact spot this fast? Unlikely.”
“Fair. We did hustle.”
Yeongho Jung shook his head, thinking back on the grueling marches of the last few days. Even he’d felt the strain—not to mention his retainers. They’d recovered now, but on first hitting Liuhe, collapse had been a breath away for all.
“But if Sima Geon headed home, means they turned down his plea.”
“Reckon so.”
“Could be a trap?”
Yeongho Jung cocked his head.
“From my checks, slim chance.”
“That so? Glad tidings, then. We strike tonight.”
“Pardon? Too rushed, I fear. Slim, yes—but not zero. Better scout another day or two.”
Aware one slip could spell doom, Jwa Gong urged utmost caution.
“No. I trust your call. And there’s cause to hurry. They called in Tang Clan and Living Immortal Medical House for help, right?”
“Yes. Pretext of purging Soul-Seizing Poison. Due any time.”
“Precisely.”
Yeongho Jung touched his head again.
“Strike while both they and I still carry the Soul-Seizing Poison. Purge comes later.”
Puzzled but silent, Jwa Gong held his tongue.
He knew roughly how the Blood Slaughter Cult wielded Soul-Seizing Poison—and could guess why Yeongho Jung said as much.
“People get the wrong idea. Sword Pavilion is a women’s sect, true—but we don’t forbid marriage. Fun fact: the lord before last wasn’t single either.”
“Hmmm.”
Right before the boat shoved off, Sima Geon recalled Elder Seo Yoryeong’s whispered words and Neung Sohwa’s tender look. A short sigh escaped him.
So Surin turned at the sound.
“What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing.”
“Liar. Yeongho Clan eating at you? ‘Cause we said no to their plea?”
“No, really. Saving their skins at Phoenix Mountain and waking them to reality—that’s plenty. I cut ties to avoid more mess. Their problems are theirs to fix now.”
“Damn right! Who the hell asks favors from folks they just met!”
Cheol Woo bellowed, anger flaring.
Even after affirming feelings, parting from Jinrim had soured Cheol Woo’s mood badly.
“Sorry. My fault...”
Manchu, who’d dragged in Beggars’ Sect branch leaders and Yeongho Gi, ducked his head under Sima Geon and Cheol Woo’s gazes.
“You’ve got nothing to apologize for. Guy who thinks one favor makes us patsies? That’s the problem.”
Cheol Woo meant Yeongho Gi, naturally. But as a Beggars’ Sect disciple who’d leaned on Sima Geon’s crew time and again, Manchu saw it differently.
Seeing Manchu so cowed, Cheol Woo clucked his tongue and clapped his shoulder.
“Quit acting guilty. Not mad at the Sect or you—no need.”
“Yes.”
Manchu mustered a smile and nodded.
“Hey, that intel solid?”
Cheol Woo pivoted smoothly.
“Them heading back to Shaoxing.”
“Yes. Rock solid. Went back recently.”
“Sudden, though. Trouble?”
“Not sure why exactly. Maybe waited out your brothers, got fed up?”
“Could be. Hosts can say ‘stay comfy’ all they want—guests can’t linger forever.”
Noejeon slipped in slyly.
“Been gone from home too long, too.”
“Saves us detouring to Ha Hu Clan, but hope they got back safe.”
Cheol Woo fretted.
“Brother Yeon went with ‘em. No big worry.”
“That guy tagged along?”
“Yeah.”
“Then we’re good. Green still, but serviceable skill.”
Manchu and Gwanyu traded incredulous glances at Cheol Woo’s words.
If Ha Hu Yeon—Sword Ghost Ha Hu Gok’s heir, the Ha Hu Clan’s touted future—was “green,” what did that make them!
“Rested plenty. Time to roll. Cut that bastard Um Jeok-so’s throat a day sooner—means hustle.”
Sima Geon’s mention of Um Jeok-so darkened all faces. So Surin’s especially iced over.
Last night, via Je Gal Clan channels, they’d learned Iron Blood Palace’s lord was none other than Um Jeok-so of Myriad Poison Valley—their longtime quarry. And his Poison Blood Demon had shone attacking Shaolin.
Once they knew Iron Blood Palace Lord was Um Jeok-so, the group agonized.
Cheol Woo and Noejeon pushed straight to Shaolin. Je Gal-su, Manchu, Gwanyu, and others called it suicide—better hit Murim Alliance, link with Shaolin.
Sima Geon vowed to honor So Surin’s view above all. She’d suffered worst from Um Jeok-so, nursed the deepest grudge. He left it to her.
Hearing it, So Surin resolved to charge Shaolin at once. Manchu was right—direct clash impossible—but her heart, fit to burst, demanded it.
Yet after wrestling through the night, So Surin relented.
Her rash call might doom comrades. Come dawn, Manchu brought word: Iron Blood Palace pulled from Shaolin. Crucially, she heeded Je Gal-su’s counsel. Iron Blood Palace had plunged into Central Plains murim—they wouldn’t retreat. Inevitable clash; best take breathing room.