Chapter 95
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 95
Chapter Title: The River of Sorrow
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Yeom Sa-in glared at Jang Sam, a sullen expression on his face, clearly displeased about something.
Then, in a moment, his face brightened.
He had spotted Cho Ak-ryang walking slowly behind Jang Sam, as if on a leisurely stroll.
“Did you sleep well?”
Cho Ak-ryang nodded at Yeom Sa-in's question.
“Thanks to you.”
Cho Ak-ryang smiled softly.
“I don’t know when I last slept so soundly.”
“That’s why home is a good thing.”
Yeom Sa-in continued, his face content.
“Don’t they say even an old dog turns its head toward home when it dies?”
Cho Ak-ryang let out a soft laugh and nodded.
How could people be any different?
He hadn't understood it in his youth, but as he grew older, the longing for one's roots resonated with him anew.
Then, a question suddenly occurred to him.
“By the way, about that scroll hanging in the bedroom.”
“...?”
“It didn’t have the artist’s seal. Did you paint it yourself?”
“Who else would have? I just scribbled it out of boredom.”
“People tend to stagnate with age, but your painting skills are still improving.”
“And have your martial arts skills remained stagnant?”
“Fair point.”
Cho Ak-ryang chuckled, then looked at Yeom Sa-in with a hint of regret.
“To think a man who can paint like this is merely dyeing cloth…”
“Merely? Are you looking down on my livelihood now?”
Though his words were sharp, Yeom Sa-in was smiling pleasantly.
He wasn't displeased by his friend's praise.
“Have you ever thought about selling your paintings professionally?”
Yeom Sa-in shook his head at Cho Ak-ryang’s question.
“No. What could a man with no formal training or connections possibly do? The work I do now is more than enough to put food on the table.”
Cho Ak-ryang smiled bitterly.
“But why haven’t you taken on any disciples? With your level of skill, there must be many who wish to learn the trade.”
“When I die, this work ends. It’s not such a great profession. There’s nothing more tiring than dealing with high and mighty nobles.”
Seeing Cho Ak-ryang’s confusion, Jang Sam spoke up on Yeom Sa-in’s behalf.
“The fabrics dyed by the Master himself are offered as tribute to the nearby authorities. Thanks to that, the village is able to avoid harsh taxes.”
“So it’s a form of bribery.”
“That’s just how the world works, isn’t it?”
Cho Ak-ryang watched his friend let out a self-deprecating laugh. He felt a pang of guilt, thinking he had troubled his friend's heart with careless words.
“Shall we take a short walk?”
“Let’s.”
At Cho Ak-ryang’s suggestion, Yeom Sa-in’s face lit up as if he had been waiting for it.
Watching Yeom Sa-in stride forward, his expression bright once more, Jang Sam let out a deep sigh.
“Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure it’s finished before the day is out.”
Jang Sam smiled wryly at Yeom Sa-in’s confident declaration from a distance.
“Yes, I believe you.”
The deadline was fast approaching, and they were still far from meeting the quantity demanded by the officials. But he didn't want to ruin his master's good mood, a rare sight these days, so he swallowed his concerns.
Leaving the estate, the two men walked without a destination, letting their feet guide them. As they ambled and chatted, Yeom Sa-in suddenly stopped.
Cho Ak-ryang followed his friend's gaze, turning his head to see what had caught his attention.
In the distance, a small tributary snaked around the village.
Along the stream, which branched off from the Min River, his eyes caught sight of long poles lined up, with colorful bolts of cloth fluttering in the breeze.
The vibrant patterns and colors, seemingly fresh from the dye, were captivating.
He then noticed the figures of men bustling between them.
“Is that… tie-dyeing?”
Yeom Sa-in nodded at Cho Ak-ryang's question.
“My method just isn’t profitable enough.”
Yeom Sa-in preferred the wax-resist dyeing method, which primarily used beeswax or paraffin wax to create patterns. However, the materials were rare, and since he had to draw the designs himself, production was limited.
In contrast, tie-dyeing, a method of creating patterns by tying the fabric with thread before dyeing, allowed for mass production, though the designs were simpler.
Just then, a few of the men working by the river noticed them and bowed respectfully in their direction.
“Hey, Gu-chil!”
Yeom Sa-in called out to someone.
A moment later, one of the men from the riverbank hurried over.
“You called, Master.”
Yeom Sa-in offered a gentle smile to the man in his mid-thirties, who was bowing politely.
“How long have you been here? Is it ten years this year?”
The man called Gu-chil bowed his head, looking overwhelmed.
“Yes. In a month, it will be exactly ten years.”
“Then come see me in five days. I’ll give you the money I’ve been saving for you.”
Gu-chil, startled, shook his head.
“Oh, no, sir. You don’t have to do that. I can just stay here and continue…”
Yeom Sa-in cut him off.
“There’s no future for you in this village. You’ve gotten the hang of the work now, so go to a big city and open a cloth shop. It’ll be easier on your body, and you’ll earn more money. We’ll supply you with the goods, so don’t worry.”
“But if I leave…”
“The ones who remain will manage somehow. Haven’t we always?”
When Gu-chil still hesitated, Yeom Sa-in continued in a persuasive tone.
“You have to think of your family. Didn’t you say your wife is expecting your third?”
At those words, Gu-chil let out a sigh.
“I understand, Master. I will do as you say.”
“A wise decision.”
As Yeom Sa-in smiled in satisfaction, Gu-chil bowed his head repeatedly, thanking him over and over.
Watching Gu-chil’s back as he returned to the river, Cho Ak-ryang shook his head slowly.
“You said you wanted to rebuild the village, but it seems you plan to get rid of it altogether.”
He finally understood why the village, which once had over two hundred households, was now home to only about fifty.
“You don’t understand. The world is full of vultures who try to pick you clean the moment you have a little something to live on. What future can a place like this have?”
“Vultures?”
Cho Ak-ryang tilted his head, mulling over Yeom Sa-in’s words.
“It wasn’t just the authorities?”
“There are plenty.”
Yeom Sa-in let out a low sigh.
“The trading company that has a contract to buy our supply comes every half-month.”
In exchange for lending them money, they bought the dyed fabrics at a pittance.
The dyers, ignorant of the ways of the world, were easy targets for them to exploit.
“Recently, even a martial arts sect has been approaching us, offering protection.”
“A martial arts sect?”
“He claimed to be a lay disciple of the Qingcheng Sect. Said he’s expanding his martial arts school and plans to build a branch near here. Apparently, he’s quite famous among the lay disciples of the Qingcheng Sect.”
“…”
Seeing Cho Ak-ryang suddenly fall silent, Yeom Sa-in gave a bitter smile.
“Isn’t it all so tiresome? That river, which we fear will flood again; the authorities, who turned their backs on the starving; and the Qingcheng Sect, who turned you into a villain.”
With Cho Ak-ryang still lost in his own thoughts, Yeom Sa-in shared his.
“I’m just a man waiting to die one day, but what sin did these people commit to be stuck guarding this place? I have to send them away while I can. So you, too, should let go of your lingering attachment.”
“…”
“The hometown we remember is gone. It vanished after that day.”
“True. That river will surely flood again someday.”
“That’s why I built this estate, isn’t it? To make sure no one else ends up like us.”
Cho Ak-ryang looked up at the sky.
Old memories surfaced.
Decades had passed, yet they were as vivid as if they had happened yesterday.
He was around seven years old.
Unlike other years, the Min River had suddenly overflowed its banks.
The sudden disaster laid waste to the fields and the village.
The officials who were supposed to manage the aftermath, fearing reprimand from their superiors, downplayed the damage, and no support ever came.
But that was only the beginning. An epidemic began to spread.
Only then did the authorities belatedly dispatch soldiers.
At first, they thought the soldiers had come to save them.
But they were wrong.
They sealed off the village with spears and swords.
It was to prevent the starving victims from becoming refugees and flowing into other provinces.
When children began to starve to death, a few of the village elders, unable to bear it any longer, raided a military outpost and stole provisions.
Not long after, they were all beheaded.
After that, even resistance was impossible.
Extreme hunger and the fear of death.
Within that despair, everyone quietly died.
The powerless elderly, children, and women, in that order…
When all hope was lost, an old man entered the village.
He drove away the soldiers surrounding the village and opened a path for the people to leave.
He was the one who led him, crying while guarding his father's body, out of the village.
When this resulted in a wave of refugees, the authorities belatedly hired martial artists from the Qingcheng Sect.
“Why would the Qingcheng Sect respond to a request from the government?”
That question still puzzled him.
The government and the martial world had long kept each other at arm's length.
Of course, the Qingcheng Sect had its own justification.
The eradication of heretics and demonic practitioners.
In truth, the old man was a descendant of the long-extinct Maoshan Sect.
That was why he had avoided the affairs of the martial world and lived his life in seclusion.
It was an undeniable fact that the Maoshan Sect had prospered by relying on the power of a foreign people. He could never shake the label of being a descendant of Han traitors who collaborated with foreign invaders.
But it was impossible to believe that this reason alone had prompted the Qingcheng Sect to act.
In any case, even the warriors of the Qingcheng Sect could not stop the old man.
The injured Qingcheng warriors retreated, grinding their teeth in frustration.
He thought everything would be over once they had been driven back.
From that day on, the old man and Cho Ak-ryang formed a master-disciple bond.
And five years later.
Misfortune struck suddenly.
The top masters of the Qingcheng Sect had tracked down his master.
But the timing was terrible.
They found him when he was at his weakest.
At the time, his master had just completed the arduous process of cleansing his disciple's body and marrow, expending even his own primal essence to clear his meridians.
The grueling process had lasted for seven days and nights.
As a result, Cho Ak-ryang had opened his Conception and Governor Vessels, laying the foundation for him to become a true master.
His master, on the other hand, was left with his internal energy almost completely depleted.
To buy time for Cho Ak-ryang to escape, his master broke his vow against killing for the first time.
Cho Ak-ryang let out a heavy sigh.
“In the end, I couldn't even be there for his final moments.”
He only managed to recover his master’s remains ten years later, after he had perfected the martial arts inherited from him.
And from there, he went straight to the Qingcheng Sect.
From that day on, his hands were never free of blood.
The grudge that had seeped into his very bones ran that deep.
Not wanting to repeat his master's mistake, he left no trace of mercy in his actions.
Thus, he became entangled in the feuds of the martial world, and after that, there was no pulling himself out.
He fought endlessly, killing and killing again.
It was only natural that he would gain the ominous title of the Blood Hand Honored One and be named one of the Ten Great Villains.
The Qingcheng Sect, which at one time had been one of the top three of the Nine Great Sects in terms of size, saw its power decline significantly due to the bloody affair.
Now, it barely clings to its place at the bottom of the Nine Great Sects.
That was how many of its masters had met their end.
A murderous glint flickered in Cho Ak-ryang's eyes.
“I have no regrets.”
At Cho Ak-ryang’s words, Yeom Sa-in nodded.
“I know. You may have lived a harsh life, but you never lived a shameful one.”