Sam Bong Painting
Dang Gi-hyeok cupped his fists and bowed his head slightly.
It was a polite yet dignified posture, befitting a member of the Sichuan Dang Clan—self-assured without a trace of servility.
"Then, Dang Team Leader. I'll take my leave."
"My thanks. I'll make sure to inform the elders of High Protector No's hard work."
"Hahaha! No need for that."
The government and the Murim world maintained a strict non-interference pact.
The gatekeepers and guards handed me over to Dang Gi-hyeok and returned to their posts.
Dang Gi-hyeok gestured toward the city gate with his arm.
"Shall we go, then?"
"Lead on."
Wherever there's money and power, it's always good.
I savored the taste of authority as I bypassed the long line of people and headed for the gate.
"You could've just shown your Murim Alliance badge instead of waiting in line."
"I wanted to keep a low profile."
"Ah. So, what's the purpose of your visit to Seongdo?"
Dang Gi-hyeok eyed me warily, his face hardening.
He probably thought I'd come sniffing around for secrets the Alliance suspected the Dang Clan was hiding.
No need to get tangled up with the Dang Clan here, so I quickly shook my head.
"It's got nothing to do with the Dang Clan, so don't worry about it. In fact, if you're willing, I'd appreciate some help..."
I trailed off, and Dang Gi-hyeok's tension eased into curiosity.
"Help?"
"Truth is, I'm tracking someone in secret. But the bastard's quick on his feet—damn hard to catch."
I lowered my voice to a whisper.
Dang Gi-hyeok leaned in, and his expression brightened instantly.
"Ah! Is that it?"
"You understand. If word gets out, he'll bolt again."
"Haha! No wonder. Don't worry—if that's the case, I'll cooperate fully. So, who's the target? Some unorthodox scum stirring up trouble?"
"Tch. Don't even ask."
I waved it off with a grimace.
Seeing my obvious annoyance at the troublesome assignment, Dang Gi-hyeok's lips curved into a sly smile.
"Some thieving bastard laid hands on valuables belonging to some bigwig in the capital. The higher-ups at the Alliance threw a fit, demanding we find him pronto."
"Tch tch. Tough break."
"What can you do? If you're pissed, just climb the ranks faster. Damn it all."
"Hahaha!"
In just a few exchanges, Dang Gi-hyeok's wariness visibly melted away.
And so, we passed through the massive city gate into Seongdo.
The guards, familiar with Dang Gi-hyeok, only glanced at me curiously—no one blocked our path.
"Whoa."
Beyond the gate stretched a wide boulevard lined with bustling shops on both sides.
Dang Gi-hyeok and I walked in silence for a bit.
This great metropolis teemed with people hurrying about. In the distance, towering mountains cradled the city like a natural screen, and the ancient walls seemed to whisper of past heroes.
"Heading to the main house? You must be tired from the long journey—rest up first."
"It's a time-sensitive matter..."
"Haha! Just tell me who you're after. I'll have the clan look into it."
"Appreciate it. The guy's called the Thousand Face Fox—slippery as hell, impossible to pin down. Found out he slipped into Seongdo purely by chance."
"Thousand Face Fox? He's here in Seongdo right now?"
Dang Gi-hyeok's eyes widened in surprise.
Not bad for a mere thief's reputation—to startle a Dang Clan warrior like that.
"You've heard of him?"
"Of course. Famous thief lately. Folks in the villages call him a righteous bandit."
"I've heard the tales, but what choice do I have? This time he stole from the wrong people."
"Tch. I get it—plenty of headaches."
As expected, a small-time crook like the Thousand Face Fox only earned a momentary shock, nothing serious.
With the Justice Hall warrant hanging over everything, who had time for a petty thief?
Dang Gi-hyeok nodded confidently.
"Rest at the main house. I'll put in a good word—we'll have answers in a few days."
"Whoa! Thanks! They say the Dang Clan handles business like no one else—reliable as hell."
"Come on, 'best in the world'?"
"Hahaha!"
"Hahaha!"
Nothing was resolved, but we laughed heartily as we walked on.
Then, suddenly, I stopped, as if something had just occurred to me.
"Hm? What's up?"
Dang Gi-hyeok turned back.
"Any famous painting shops in Seongdo?"
"Painting shop... you mean?"
At my out-of-left-field question, Dang Gi-hyeok blinked in confusion.
I scratched my head sheepishly.
"Kinda embarrassing to admit, but... I've got a hobby collecting old paintings and calligraphy. Since the clan's helping out, thought I'd swing by if I get a chance."
"Ah! Got it. Let's see... paintings... Ah! There's a place called Cheonun Pavilion on the main street."
The Hao Sect's Sichuan branch, Cheonun Pavilion.
Even the Dang Clan wouldn't know its true nature.
And if they did, it wouldn't matter.
It wasn't odd for an Alliance man to visit a Hao Sect spot.
"Where is it? I can pop in quick on my way to the clan house."
"I'll show you."
"No need. Can't impose on a busy man like you. I wanna browse leisurely anyway."
"Hm. Fair enough."
Dang Gi-hyeok pondered briefly, then nodded and pointed down the boulevard.
"Follow the main road straight ahead. On the right, you'll see a red-walled two-story building. Duck into the alley beside it, walk about half a ri, and you'll find a bookstore with blue tiles. That's Cheonun Pavilion."
"Thanks. That's clear enough."
"Come to the main house once you're done. Can't have an Alliance guest go without proper hospitality, or I'll catch hell from the elders."
"Hahaha! Will do!"
"I'll let them know."
Dang Gi-hyeok and I exchanged knowing grins.
His face was baby-smooth, looking younger than me, but there was a subtle air of condescension.
"Oh, right! May I have your esteemed name?"
"Good grief, where are my manners? Haven't even introduced myself."
I cupped my fists politely while holding the reins.
"Jang U-gil of the Murim Alliance's Baekryongdae."
"Young hero Jang! A pleasure. Finish your business and come by."
"Will do."
I turned and tugged the reins.
The lazy beast plodded heavily forward.
'Young hero, huh...'
I felt eyes watching from behind.
He probably felt the same, but I wasn't one to take smiling faces at face value.
After all, he was Sichuan Dang Clan.
As Dang Gi-hyeok said, following the boulevard led to the red two-story building. I turned into the alley beside it.
"Damn, why so pricey?"
"Not pricey! Cheaper elsewhere! Cheaper!"
"Come on, knock a little off!"
"No way!"
The alley painted a different picture from the main street.
Stalls overflowed with street food, trinkets, exotic plants, animals—even bugs. Haggling voices filled the air with vibrant energy.
More lively than the refined boulevard, somehow.
Thwack!
"Ow! Sorry, great hero!"
"Watch it."
"Yes, sir!"
And pickpocket kids too.
I ruffled the little rascal's hair casually, then walked on like nothing happened. When he realized his grab was empty, that cheeky grin would turn to disappointment soon enough.
Deeper in, the alley grew quieter.
"This must be it."
I stopped before a weathered building topped with blue tiles.
It exuded a serene, scholarly air—more like a haunt for broke literati than a Hao Sect front.
Creeeak.
"Hello?"
I tied up the horse and pushed the door open.
The old hinges screamed as expected.
"Hm?"
True to a used bookstore, Cheonun Pavilion was stacked with pillars of books.
But no owner or clerk in sight. Dust blanketing the shelves showed few visitors.
"Anyone here?"
No response to my call.
Probably in the back. I browsed slowly, killing time.
"Paintings too, huh."
The air mingled old paper and ink scents.
Calligraphy and paintings hung on the walls.
I had no eye for art—white was paper, black was ink—but it was fun to look.
Then, one painting at the far back caught my eye.
"Hm. Famous artist?"
I stopped before it, unusually focused.
Three massive peaks with clouds drifting lazily between. Below, a white-bearded old Taoist held a sword.
The migratory birds in the clouds and the Taoist seemed ready to move any second—imbued with a mystical vitality.
"Huh?"
But then, something bizarre.
I stared wide-eyed at the painting.
"What the...?"
Incredibly, the sword-wielding Taoist began to move slowly.
Thinking it a hallucination, I rubbed my eyes.
But no—look again, and the old man was dancing his sword form like a living being.
I stepped closer, entranced by the sword dance.
So absorbed, I missed the footsteps behind me.
"Ahem! You know your paintings."
"......"
A raspy voice from the rear.
Regrettably, the Taoist's dance halted.
I turned.
A small, scholar-robed old man stroked his beard sternly, eyeing me. His tiny eyes and scraggly whiskers made him look comical.
"The pavilion master?"
"Heh heh. Indeed. You've got a good eye, customer."
"Good eye? This painting?"
"Hey now! Don't speak lightly of it. That's the Sam Bong Painting, drawn by Sam Bong himself. I sold off a few pillars of this shop to acquire it."
"Sam Bong... you mean Zhang Sanfeng?"
My eyes bulged.
Zhang Sanfeng, founder of Wudang, who attained enlightenment gazing at three peaks.
Why the hell was he popping up here?
"Who else is called Sam Bong? But young man, your speech is awfully casual."
The pavilion master narrowed his eyes, scanning me up and down.
Stunned by the name, I apologized first.
"Sorry about that. How much?"
I pointed at the Sam Bong Painting and asked the price. A gleam sparked in his beady eyes.
"Oh ho! A real buyer! Changes everything. As I said, genuine Sam Bong Painting. Masterpieces high officials would bring gold mountains for."
He rubbed his palms—reeking of a con man.
But from our brief chat, he clearly didn't grasp its true value.
"I'll take it. How much?"
"Well... priceless work. Can I really part with it so easily...?"
"Pass, then."
"Hey! Young man's temper! I'm not refusing. Treasures find their owners, and you're clearly it. Bah! I'll be generous—five gold coins! A steal!"
Five gold for a painting of dubious origin.
The money-grubbing owner thought he'd hooked a sucker today.
But he was the real fool.
True or not, that brief glimpse of the Taoist's sword dance hid profound swordsmanship.
A treasure beyond price.
"Discount it."
Whatever—I'd haggle anyway.
I tossed it out casually with a deadpan face.
"Heh! Haggling a treasure? Bad karma!"
"Next time, then—"
"Fine! Fine! So impatient! What's your offer? I'll match it."
To me, priceless; to him, worthless scribble.
I dug in my pouch and held out coins to the master.
"This enough?"
"Hm?"
He craned his neck like he'd seen a ghost.
"Iron coin... one? What the fuck? You messing with me?"
The master glared, eyes blazing.
I chuckled and flicked the iron coin lightly.
"Eek!"
He snatched it reflexively in surprise.
"Take a good look, Cheonun Pavilion Master."
"It's an iron coin—what else? What the... Huh?"
The Hao Sect's exclusive token, verifiable only by insiders.
His furrowed brow smoothed as he examined it.