Honghaea
"Tsk."
Sun Wukong clicked his tongue. The Sect Leader's face was drained of all color.
"The physician patched up the external wounds well enough, but..."
The internal injuries were another matter entirely.
"They used poison too, huh?"
"They did."
The one who answered Sun Wukong's mutter was an old physician — the Baeksu Divine Physician, hailed as the greatest healer in all of Hubei.
"Thick, dark blood seeped from his nostrils. The poison appears to have entered through the nasal membranes."
It was exactly as the Baeksu Divine Physician said. Sun Wukong gave the inside of the nose a cursory glance and nodded.
They said that anyone this man so much as touched would live to a ripe hundred years, and his skill lived up to the reputation. The Unhyeon Sword Gate may have been nothing more than puppets dangling from the Three Pure Ones' strings, but the physician they had brought worked with genuine diligence. In truth, the Three Pure Ones had made no effort to stop him from treating the patient.
"A martial artist's internal injuries have their limits, no matter how many medicines, moxibustion treatments, or acupuncture needles you apply. Which is to say, my own medicine has its limits as well."
The aged voice resonated with a practiced calm.
"I treated him with everything I had, but I couldn't touch the dantian. Even driving needles into the vital acupoints, I couldn't catch hold of his energy."
"Well, of course you couldn't. His innate primordial qi is leaking out and mixing together."
"Innate primordial qi?!"
The Baeksu Divine Physician's eyes went wide. To pierce through to the heart of the matter from nothing more than a glance and a light examination — truly extraordinary.
"His dantian was torn open and leaking, and on top of that he burned through his innate primordial qi to counterattack with everything he had. That's how he saved his life in the moment... except he didn't, really. He just put death on hold."
Sun Wukong clicked his tongue again.
The Wudang martial artists believed their Sect Leader had simply fallen into qi deviation. To a warrior, qi deviation was fatal — but it was not incurable. The jianghu was full of those who had overcome it.
He was Wudang's spiritual pillar, its living symbol — the head of the sect. Every last disciple of the Wudang Sect believed without a shred of doubt that their Sect Leader would fight through this and return. Everyone, that is, except the Three Pure Ones who had done this to him, and the Mugok Pavilion Master who knew the full truth.
This isn't some mere qi deviation. The essence of his innate primordial qi has been shattered.
It would be more accurate to say he was dying by degrees. Had the Baeksu Divine Physician not thrown every technique he knew at the problem, the slide toward death would have been even faster.
The internal energy already leaking out and dissipating is nothing to sneeze at, either.
Sun Wukong quietly observed the Sect Leader's internals.
Having a lot of internal energy doesn't automatically make you strong — but it's better than having a little.
By that measure, the Sect Leader was unquestionably a formidable master. Even Sun Wukong had to nod in acknowledgment.
Could a mere assassin have cut down someone like this this badly?
Sun Wukong's brow furrowed. The only assassins he had encountered in this world were those of the Yusal Sect — the strongest assassination guild in Hubei, and ranked among the top ten in the entire Central Plains. But they hadn't impressed him in the slightest. He'd grant that their skills were decent enough. In the face of an overwhelming gap, decent meant nothing.
His eyes sharpened as they examined the area around the Sect Leader's navel. A faint sword mark remained. A crescent-shaped scar was embedded directly in the dantian.
They landed the first strike. Was the Sect Leader simply caught off guard?
Could a surprise attack really score a direct hit on the dantian just because someone let their guard down? Sun Wukong shook his head firmly.
Impossible.
If they'd gotten his back, maybe.
I know how precious these martial artist types consider their dantian.
He'd heard the desperate screams more times than he could count — cut my throat if you must, just don't destroy my dantian. Of course, the moment you actually went to take their lives, plenty of them threw a fit about that too.
To a martial artist, the dantian is as good as a second life.
The stronger the warrior, the more they treasured it — never less. A martial artist of the Sect Leader's caliber would never have left his dantian unguarded, no matter how off-guard he was.
Which means this assassin's skill is anything but ordinary.
Sun Wukong stared at the crescent-shaped sword mark as if he could glare it into talking.
Hocheong used an intermediary to put the hit out, so he doesn't even know which assassin they hired.
An intermediary.
That Sima fellow.
Sun Wukong's eyes narrowed. The answer to why they'd gone through a middleman was simple.
Honghaea was the one who introduced him.
Sun Wukong stroked his chin.
"Anyone who can pull off a contract on a Sect Leader isn't your run-of-the-mill killer."
He thought for a moment, then shook his head. It wasn't urgent anyway. Sun Wukong believed in fate — the kind that bound people together through the tangle of karmic ties.
If that bastard is bound to me, whether by a good fate or a bad one...
The knot would keep tightening, keep dragging them into each other.
If it's fate, we'll meet one way or another. In the end, aren't all lives just playing out on the Buddha's palm?
Sun Wukong smiled a fleeting, empty smile and placed his hand on the Sect Leader's dantian.
If you gain something, you lose something. That's how it goes.
He smiled bitterly.
The hall was black as pitch. The heavy silence was no mere metaphor — it hung before the eyes like a physical thing. Not a single sliver of light entered. Only the faint sound of breathing betrayed that people were inside at all.
It was a darkness so thick that even those with the sharpest night vision couldn't make out a human shape. And yet, within that darkness, they were looking directly at one another.
Then it happened.
Whoosh.
The darkness peeled away, and brilliant white light came flooding in. The previously calm breathing turned faintly irritated — the fierce light made their eyes sting of their own accord.
A young man's voice arrived with the light, as he swept aside every cloth covering the windows with a single gesture.
"Ugh, what is this? Seriously. Get some sunlight, people. What are you, bat demons? Old men and their gloomy habits, I swear."
The rosy-cheeked youth was cheerful. His voice didn't boom, but it sat a touch high, so that every word he spoke lodged itself in the ear whether you wanted it there or not.
Every gaze in the hall snapped toward the sudden arrival. Each pair of eyes was heavy and sharp. The young man weathered those stares as if they were nothing, grinning as he clapped his hands.
"Alright, alright, let's see. What's this? Why are there so few people? One, two, three? That's all? Only three of the Seven Great Sages under heaven showed up?"
The young man frowned.
"I told you to gather. I gave you plenty of time. And this is all I get?"
"You think we all have to show up just because you said so?"
A voice, settled and heavy.
"This insolent brat of a nephew still doesn't know how to address his uncles."
"Aww. What's got Uncle Gyo's horns in a twist? Ah, right — you came all the way from Shandong. That's the farthest from here. You talk a big game, but this adorable nephew of yours calls and you come running from that far away?"
"...Enough of the chatter."
The gaunt man called Uncle Gyo spoke. There was a certain deflation in his voice, and the young man shrugged.
"Huh. I don't remember Uncle Gyo being this impatient."
The slick, needling voice was answered by a different man this time. A man with unusually long arms and large ears snapped at him sharply.
"How long are you going to keep running your mouth in front of your uncles, Honghaea."
Vicious eyes. A killing aura, sharp as a drawn blade. The young man — Honghaea — raised his hands in an exaggerated gesture, grinning. He couldn't have cared less.
"Ah, Uncle Yung's impatient too. Come on, a man should have a little gravitas, don't you think? Like Uncle Sa over there."
Honghaea pointed to the seat of highest honor.
Everyone gathered here carried an extraordinary presence. Even among them, the man called Uncle Sa, seated unapologetically in the highest seat, was something else. Shoulders split wide as a gate. Arms and legs thick as timber. The chair he sat on groaned in protest, unable to bear him.
On closer look, it wasn't a chair.
"Tsk. I keep telling you, just have a sturdy chair made. Using your own subordinate as a seat every time the furniture breaks is a little sadistic, don't you think, Uncle Sa?"
"It's an efficient choice."
Uncle Sa dismissed it in few words.
"Right, I heard that sophistry last time too — a chair that walks on two legs is better than lugging around one made of steel."
Honghaea took in the bizarre sight without any particular reaction.
"Well, this nephew of yours ought to pour his uncles a drink after so long apart, but it looks like not everyone's here."
"You already know. That Baekgwi bastard is dead."
"Ah, I prayed for his rebirth in paradise myself. But besides him — isn't there one more?"
Honghaea's eyes gleamed as he said it. A filthy greed rippled through them. Uncle Yung let out a hollow laugh.
"You lunatic. What kind of nephew looks at his own aunt like that?"
"She's not a blood aunt. What's the problem?"
"..."
Uncle Yung shut his mouth. He couldn't quite bring himself to say the rest out loud — that this brat had clearly inherited his father's complete lack of sanity.
"So why didn't our Gao Wuxin — Aunt Peng — come?"
"Apparently she has pressing business."
"Tsk. Auntie's as haughty as a cat. I should start calling her Aunt Mao."
"Let's get to the point."
"Ah, fine. You've all heard the news. Uncle Baekgwiwang is dead."
"Tsk. That thick-headed fool."
"Him dying isn't the surprise. The question is who killed him."
"The Great Sage, Equal to Heaven."
"That's right. Our magnificent monkey uncle has arrived."
Honghaea snickered. Uncle Yung and Uncle Gyo's faces, by contrast, had gone hard. Uncle Sa remained silent, his expression as grave as ever.
Honghaea laughed by himself for a while, then smacked his lips.
"If Uncle Baekgwiwang died like that, then it's probably the real Great Sage, Equal to Heaven."
"Then gathering like this is dangerous."
"Dangerous?"
"Did the King not say? If the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven appears, halt every activity and go to ground."
"Ah, he did say that."
Honghaea spoke as if it barely concerned him.
"But that monkey uncle came down from the Heavenly Realm too. You think he's free of the restrictions the Tathagata put in place?"
"You... you're not..."
Uncle Yung's face twisted in shock. Honghaea nodded.
"That's right. I'm saying we kill him."
"What?!"
"Hah..."
Sighs erupted from all of them at once. Honghaea shrugged.
"Come on. The Seven Great Sages, supposedly the strongest in the world — why are my uncles so scared?"
"That was in our past lives, when we had the bodies of demons. Now we're bound by the limits of human flesh."
"That's true of monkey uncle too. A celestial god who can't use heavenly power — what's so scary about that?"
"The Great Sage, Equal to Heaven is the Great Sage, Equal to Heaven even without that heavenly power."
"You're that afraid of a monkey who doesn't even have the Ruyi Jingu Bang?"
"...!"
"What, you think I don't know my father's warning? But the situation is going sideways in a very strange way."
Honghaea's voice turned serious in an instant.
"By now we should be putting the grand plan into motion, but the Wudang Sect I was keeping an eye on looks like it's gone over to the other side entirely."
"Hrm!"
"I'd like to go there myself, but that old Earth Deity they've got is a rather troublesome opponent. I could kill him, sure, but getting close isn't easy. Kick up a fuss and we'll draw eyes from every direction. Anyway, everything needs to be ready before Father returns — and you want us to stop everything right now and hide? Does that sound like a plan to you?"
"So what are you proposing?"
"We prepare what needs preparing before Father comes back. Father is a cautious man. Even if the Tathagata is dying, he's pouring everything into staying out of that World-Honored One's sight — the one who sees all things in creation. Are we supposed to ruin everything because we're scared of one measly monkey who never even escaped the Buddha's palm?"
A brief silence settled over Honghaea's words. It was Uncle Sa's heavy bass that broke it.
"So. What you're trying to say."
"The four of the Seven Great Sages, counting the aunt who isn't here. Plus me, Honghaea."
"..."
In the silence, Honghaea grinned.