Tianyang County (2)
Dan Seong-baek, Lord of the Dan Family Manor, had been living with a sigh perpetually caught in his throat.
The cause was a Black Path outfit that had recently settled into Tianyang County.
The appearance of such gangs was practically an annual rite of passage—but this time, their momentum was anything but ordinary.
Under normal circumstances, I would have uprooted them long ago.
He had not managed it. Worse still, the manor’s armed company—dispatched expressly to sweep the Black Path clean—had been smashed to pieces. Naturally, the gang’s swagger only grew.
The preliminary report painted them as nothing special…
The Dan Family was the established power of Tianyang County. Within its borders, their influence rivaled even that of the county magistrate who drew an official stipend. That prestige rested on generations of vast farmland and a careful sense of proportion—so before moving against the Black Path, they had conducted a thorough investigation.
Their core fighters were third-class martial artists; most of the rest were street thugs who had never learned a martial art at all.
They had no proper backing to speak of. A pack of brutes who relied on raw brawn to make trouble had simply banded together and called themselves a gang. Dan Seong-baek had intended to handle them with a light touch before the damage to the county grew—until the gang’s leader revealed unexpected depth, and everything went sideways.
In brawls among the weak, momentum is half the battle. Our morale has collapsed while theirs has soared. Recovery will be difficult.
In situations like this, the surest solution was for a true expert of the family to step forward. There was no need for a Peak Expert; a single first-class martial artist would be enough to restore their fighting spirit.
The problem is that the Dan Family has only two first-class fighters.
The Manor Lord himself—and the Young Master. Both occupied positions too critical for reckless exposure. Even victory would merely restore the status quo; defeat would shake the entire family, not merely its morale.
Which is why, as head of the house, I ordered my son not to act rashly—even though he was eager to go.
Dan Myeong-geuk had taken that as a lack of trust. He had stormed out of the manor in a sulk and fled to the tavern where he usually drank. Dan Seong-baek’s head ached just thinking about it.
At times like this, our short history as a martial house becomes a genuine curse.
The Dan Family had been great landowners in Tianyang County for generations—but they had entered the jianghu as a martial house for a mere three generations. Had they at least been secular disciples of a great sect, they would not be suffering like this. Instead, they endured solely on the local prestige of regional gentry, without that kind of foundation.
If we cannot solve this from within, we may have no choice but to invite an expert from outside.
Even that was far from easy. Tianyang County sat on the fringe of Shaanxi’s murim; the wandering swordsmen nearby were of no great quality either.
If only some passing hero would appear and lend a hand…
Perhaps Heaven heard the Manor Lord’s prayer. An unexpected guest arrived at the Dan Family Manor—a connection born of his own disappointing son.
Cheonhwa, a third-generation disciple of the Zhongnan Sect, had come calling with his companions.
The moment the news reached him, Dan Seong-baek hurried to the main gate to receive the Taoists of Zhongnan.
“Welcome. I never imagined that Zhongnan’s rising heroes—whose names have been ringing through western Shaanxi—would grace our doorstep.”
“We are grateful for your hospitality, Lord Dan.”
“We should not linger here. Please, come inside. Have you eaten?”
“Yes. We took a meal at the inn where we are staying.”
“Then I shall have tea and refreshments prepared. Allow me to show you to the guest hall.”
Even as he guided them, Dan Seong-baek studied Cheonhwa with careful eyes. The boy who had not yet even reached his coming-of-age ceremony had become a striking young man—and his martial realm had advanced in step with his years.
Late first-class already, at that age. Truly worthy of a great sect’s leading disciple.
In the wider world, the first-class realm was broadly divided into three stages. When internal or external cultivation reached a certain threshold—True Qi Mist, or Blade Immunity—one entered early first-class. Mastery of any one of the three signature arts that first-class fighters learned—Qi-Guided Sword, Balgyeong Wave, and the Soft Internal Hand Method—marked mid first-class. Full command of all three was late first-class.
The refined qi presence radiating from Cheonhwa made late first-class unmistakable.
And recently he dealt with the ringleader behind the chaos in Baoji’s murim and earned the title Jade Light Sword…
Rumors of the young Zhongnan Taoist in the white long robe, carrying a jade-hued wooden sword, had spread widely from Baoji—far enough to reach even Tianyang County, near the edge of Shaanxi.
It is gratifying that the Thousand-Year Silkworm robe we gave him has become a symbol…
The Manor Lord took in Cheonhwa’s appearance. The white robe he had almost certainly gifted was scorched in many places, with careful mending where the silk had burned clean through. The jade wooden sword—the very object that had sparked the quarrel with his son—still bore blackened burn marks.
Catching Dan Seong-baek’s gaze, Cheonhwa offered a wry smile.
“My skill was lacking, and the robe you so kindly gifted me has been ruined.”
“Not at all. I heard you fought a hard battle against a master of Scorching Yang arts. That it survived at all is fortunate.”
It was common knowledge that clothing and weapons rarely survived a clash with a master of Fierce Yang internal arts. That traces remained at all meant the garment was exceptional enough to endure a fight with a true expert—which, in turn, spoke well of the white robe that had come from the Dan Family.
“Your words set my mind at ease. For now, our mission is pressing, so I have mended it as best I could—but I intend to have a new one made before long.”
“So long as the Thousand-Year Silkworm silk itself is intact, remaking the robe is no difficulty.”
Trading quiet conversation, Dan Seong-baek led them into the guest hall and, as promised, had tea and light refreshments brought out.
At the first sip, Jeokhwa’s eyes widened.
“Biluochun—the renowned tea of Jiangsu.”
“You have a discerning palate, Taoist. I brought out a stock I had been saving for especially honored guests.”
“This clean fragrance, and the subtle aftertaste… Thank you for treating us to such fine tea.”
Pleased that someone had recognized the rarity of the offering, a faint smile touched the Manor Lord’s lips. Born to high station, Jeokhwa possessed the cultivation for tea; Cheonhwa and Yeonhwa, by contrast, were utter strangers to such refinements. They sipped in silence and exchanged a wordless glance.
Can you tell how this is different from ordinary tea?
Not even a little.
They were not so tactless as to say so aloud. Instead of advertising their ignorance, Cheonhwa and Yeonhwa simply continued drinking in quiet.
Once the company had settled, they began to explain why they had come to the Dan Family Manor.
“We happened to meet Young Master Dan at an inn, and he told us the manor was in difficulty.”
“Ah—my son has caused trouble again, I see.”
“Not at all. We may be able to help. Would you tell us the full story?”
At Cheonhwa’s request, the Manor Lord’s mind worked quickly. Ordinarily, laying one’s shortcomings bare before outsiders was a loss of face—but when those outsiders were disciples of a great sect, the calculation changed. Depending on their purpose, if their aid could clear out the Black Path gang, the Dan Family stood only to gain.
“Ahem. Since Taoist Cheonhwa asks, I shall speak. It concerns Damjeokbang—the Dark Ember Gang—which has been running rampant of late in Tianyang County.”
Dan Seong-baek shared everything he knew about Damjeokbang. It largely matched what they had heard from Dan Myeong-geuk, only in greater detail.
“Above all, you must be wary of the Damjeokbang chief’s martial arts.”
“What kind of arts, exactly?”
“Protective Qi.”
Protective Qi—true to the name—was a technique that used internal energy to shield the body. It demanded a considerable store of accumulated qi, making it difficult even for first-class martial artists to learn. For that reason, the unorthodox murim, which prized efficiency, tended to favor external body arts over Protective Qi.
“Does the Damjeokbang chief have the backing of some major unorthodox sect?”
“No. He is a local man who has lived in Tianyang County his whole life, and he never had a proper martial master. Until not long ago, he was only a third-class fighter.”
“Third-class until recently—and now he can use Protective Qi?”
“That is the strange part. Even if he had consumed a rare spiritual medicine or obtained some peerless art, growing this strong in so short a time should be nearly impossible.”
Even the finest elixir required time to digest. Even the rarest divine art required time to cultivate. Even the unorthodox schools, which specialized in rapid advancement, were no exception. Yet the Damjeokbang chief’s growth had broken every ordinary rule.
“He simply charges in like a wild boar behind that Protective Qi. Our armed company was helpless.”
The Manor Lord’s account only deepened their suspicion. Growth that defied common sense almost always pointed to demonic arts.
“Has a merchant of Muksangbang visited Tianyang County recently?”
More precisely, someone claiming to be of Muksangbang—but Cheonhwa saw no reason to burden Dan Seong-baek with that distinction. It would only confuse him.
“Remarkable. How did you know? Just as you say, a Muksangbang merchant did come. He visited our house trying to sell goods.”
“And how did you respond?”
“I sent him away. Anything involving Muksangbang rarely ends well.”
“Is it common for martial families to deal with Muksangbang?”
“That depends on the house. Martial families exist across the orthodox, the unorthodox, and everything between.”
Muksangbang’s clientele did not distinguish between righteous and wicked. The guild handled goods ordinary hands could never obtain, and from time to time auctioned rare elixirs and secret manuals.
Could the disguise as a Muksangbang merchant have been about more than simply selling demonic arts to unorthodox fighters?
Perhaps the mysterious force spreading demonic cultivation was not targeting the unorthodox alone. Seeding demonic arts across the entire murim, without regard for orthodoxy or heresy—that might well be their true aim.
First, deal with the Damjeokbang chief.
Demonic arts were techniques with severe side effects. The man might seem fine for now, but there was no telling when he might snap the way the Flame Flower Manor’s master had. They needed to bring him down as quickly as possible.
“Would you tell us where Damjeokbang is located?”
“You mean…?”
“Yes. We will handle Damjeokbang ourselves.”
Once they had the location, Cheonhwa went straight for Damjeokbang with Yeonhwa and Jeokhwa.
Baoji had taught him that granting time to a practitioner of demonic arts was pure folly. They struck at once, determined not to leave the enemy even a moment to grow stronger.
Damjeokbang had seized a wine house as its base—not purchased, but taken by force. Cheonhwa felt not the slightest hesitation as he stepped onto their ground.
He threw the doors wide and strode in. Inside, Damjeokbang’s men were drinking and carousing.
A few are third-class. Some have never trained at all.
Exactly as the Manor Lord had described. At the sudden appearance of outsiders, the Black Path thugs scowled.
“Who’s that?”
“Dunno. Some customer looking for a drink?”
“We’ve held this place for ten days. And someone’s still walking in without a clue?”
“Face I don’t know. Must be from out of town.”
“Hey, pal. We ain’t open for business anymore. Get lost while I’m still being nice.”
Failing to grasp the situation, the Black Path men snickered among themselves. Cheonhwa ignored them and spoke to Yeonhwa and Jeokhwa.
“Knock out the ones without martial training. Deal with the rest as you see fit.”
Against this lot, there was no need even to draw Okgyeong from his back. Cheonhwa flowed into the Nine Palaces Footwork, closed on the nearest thug, and unleashed the Metal Wall form of the Five Elements Fist.
The man took a palm strike full in the face, staggered, and crumpled to the floor—the signal flare that the purge of Damjeokbang had begun.
Meanwhile, Dan Myeong-geuk had fled the manor and was trailing Cheonhwa’s party.
Manor Lord Dan Seong-baek had ordered him not to act rashly and to stay put—but this once, he could not obey his father.
I cannot bear it! I’m worried about Lady Jeokhwa!
It was a thoroughly self-serving reason—one that would have made Jeokhwa shudder if she ever learned of it.