Chapter 85
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 85
Chapter Title: Paradise on Earth
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Plans had gone slightly awry, but Seo Mun-ha crossed the Yangtze safely and arrived in Zhejiang.
The Radiant Heaven Unit, having set aside training for a bit, rode in carriages for the first time in ages. The long line of wagons was flanked by even more people than the usual members, all huddled together.
"Come to think of it, are you all headed to Hangzhou for business?"
A scruffy-looking man struck up a friendly conversation.
"Your accent doesn't sound local. Ah, I'm not prying—just no need to force an answer."
The middle-aged merchant, weathered from what seemed like a hard life, was leading this band of traveling traders.
"It's my hometown."
Seo Mun-ha gave a faint smile.
"Your hometown?"
"It's my first time there, though."
"Must be your family from around Hangzhou."
Setting aside Seo Mun-ha himself, Zhejiang was undeniably the Seo Mun Clan's ancestral homeland.
This was long before they earned the title of clan—far before they rose as a martial house.
Before rooting themselves in Shandong, the Seo Mun Clan had been just one of many families in Zhejiang.
As the saying goes, those who forget history have no future.
The Seo Mun Clan had always poured their heart into their Hangzhou branch—a sub-branch in their old stomping grounds—notwithstanding the city's unique status.
Alongside the Liaoning branch, it was their largest outpost. In terms of history and geography alike, Hangzhou held profound significance for the clan, matching its scale.
"Returning to your roots is a fine thing."
The middle-aged man nodded vigorously in full agreement.
"Everyone here hails from Zhejiang too. We're all heading home after so long, and wouldn't you know it—we've got that in common."
He burst into hearty laughter.
The merchants, himself included, couldn't hide their excitement about heading home.
Though their ragged appearance was the polar opposite of returning in glory.
"It's worth saying again: thank you. Thanks to you lot, we crossed the Yangtze without a worry."
Seo Mun-ha shook his head at the man's gratitude.
"Not at all."
The Yangtze's waterways were ruled by the Ten Waterway Strongholds, and nearby lurked one of them: the Dragon King Stronghold.
Their infamous savagery was well-known, and they dominated everything from the river to the coast—merchants trembled at their name.
Already strapped for cash after losing their few escorts, the traders were in dire straits.
Traveling with the Radiant Heaven Unit had been a godsend. The battle-hardened members already carried themselves like tempered steel—utterly reliable.
"We're the ones who got the help."
"Such a humble young warrior. Not like the hotheads these days, haha."
Personal feelings aside, Seo Mun-ha was actually the one who owed them thanks.
"We'll rest a spell and head out again. Last leg—anything you need, just say the word."
"Understood. Thanks for your concern."
In truth, the unit hadn't needed to lift a finger to prove their mettle.
Setting aside the merchants' peace of mind, the Dragon King Stronghold hadn't shown so much as a whisker.
It wasn't mutual aid by any stretch. In fact, the Radiant Heaven Unit owed their smooth entry into Zhejiang Province to the merchants.
Gu Chil, eavesdropping on the two men's talk, suddenly fidgeted and shifted on his seat.
"Here's to your eternal rest in advance, Brother Gu."
Yang Jeong clicked his tongue at the restless man.
"Y-you bastard. This ain't someone else's problem..."
During the previous skirmish, Gu Chil had lost Seo Mun-ha's identity token—and that blunder had forced this unplanned escort gig.
"Exactly—how do you just drop something that important?"
Hangzhou was the provincial capital of Zhejiang.
The checkpoints were predictably strict. Without the merchants, they'd still be circling outside the gates.
"No need to fret prematurely."
Seo Mun-ha turned and eased his subordinate's worries.
"My oversight played a part too."
Gu Chil flinched and hunched his shoulders.
"Y-you heard that?"
"Handing it off to you was an error on the young master's part, if we're calling it that..."
"What?"
Despite the change in year and place, Gu Chil and Yang Jeong remained thick as thieves.
Truth be told, the biggest lapse was Seo Mun-ha's own.
An identity token served martial artists as a passport in itself—ordinary folk needed separate permits from the authorities.
Forgetting it showed how accustomed he'd grown to his new life as a martial artist. Yet no true martial artist would overlook its importance—a lingering contradiction that drew an involuntary smile from him.
"We're back, Young Master."
Eom Pung approached, leaving the bickering pair behind.
"No suspicious types. No signs of pursuit, either."
"Good work."
Perhaps thanks to crossing the Yangtze, no further attacks came.
Seo Mun-ha claimed a spot amid the wagons, and Eom Pung followed cautiously.
"That said... are you sure it's fine like this?"
He voiced a private concern.
"Wouldn't capturing one alive have been better?"
The foes had been from the Hanbuk Paeng Clan—one of the Six Great Clans, no less.
Securing a bargaining chip wasn't a bad idea.
It went beyond dodging blame.
This could even pressure the Paeng Clan.
They'd handed him the pretext on a platter.
"The main house can't afford more enemies right now."
Still, Seo Mun-ha harbored no regrets over that single captive.
"Replacements are a dime a dozen anyway."
For instance, the desperate letter from Paeng Ho-rip that never reached the dead Hwang Bo brother.
The missive he'd intercepted earlier proved a plot via Hwang Bo-in.
"What matters is what comes next."
He gestured toward Zhejiang and Hangzhou's lay of the land.
Eom Pung scanned the surroundings warily.
"Word is, martial artists have been flooding Zhejiang lately."
Ears were everywhere.
"Especially black path ones. Best stay sharp."
Even the Radiant Heaven Unit—which had wiped out those thugs—kept their guard up front and back.
"To them, one rogue looks like the next, sure."
Seo Mun-ha chuckled dryly.
Zhejiang had always been a hotbed of white and black path clashes.
Hangzhou, under constant official scrutiny, was a chaotic mix where anything could happen.
White and black path frictions, corrupt officials' tyranny—it was the powerless commoners who suffered since time immemorial.
"At least we're different from them."
Eom Pung replied with unshakable conviction. His pride was impressive as ever.
"Hope so."
Seo Mun-ha lacked such confidence but agreed, given their southern base.
"And onward."
White path folk sometimes committed evils, black path ones occasional good deeds.
Yet as white path proponents, he vaguely hoped his clan would keep to the righteous path.
"Alright, almost there—let's push a bit harder!"
A merchant's rallying cry served as the signal to depart, and at last, Seo Mun-ha reached the Seo Mun Clan's branch.
* * *
Seo Mun Clan.
A massive plaque, barely weathered, rivaled the main house in Shandong and greeted him first.
Towering walls and an imposing gate overwhelmed the eye.
A girl sweeping the courtyard paused and stared.
"Wh... who are you?"
He hadn't meant to intimidate, but the battle-worn unit members must have looked fearsome.
"From the Shandong main house."
Eom Pung stepped forward.
"The Third Young Master has arrived—can you send word inside?"
"Huh...?"
The servant's eyes widened.
She glanced between Eom Pung and Seo Mun-ha, then nodded briskly.
"Please wait a moment!"
With a spirited shout, she dashed off around the wall and through the side gate.
"...Odd."
Seo Mun-ha muttered, puzzled by her retreating figure.
Not a single guard at the main gate.
The branch's straits were worse than imagined. A lonely wind whistled outside the vast compound.
"Very odd."
The interior seemed no different.
Dead silence, like a tomb. The servant who'd gone to report showed no sign of return.
"Shall I send someone else in?"
With the entrance blocked and fatigue mounting from the grueling trip, Eom Pung sought orders on behalf of the men.
"Let's wait half a gak longer."
Right then—
Kiiiek.
The long-awaited gate creaked open. An elderly middle-aged man emerged with warriors in tow.
Tatadak.
Five in total, lined up on either side.
It was so meager it bordered on insult. The middle-aged man's scan of the Radiant Heaven Unit felt off from the start—no proper welcome.
"Sorry to keep you waiting. I'm Seok Jeong, the External Steward."
His tone was polite, but his stance wary.
"We've heard. You're the main house's Third Young Master? Do you have your identity token?"
Faced with suspicious glares, Seo Mun-ha replied evenly.
"Lost it."
The bold admission drew murmurs from the guards.
"..."
Tension spiked briefly at the unexpected turn.
"Apologies."
The unit members, who'd waited a full half gak, darkened further.
"No word of the Third Young Master's visit— we questioned every soul, same story."
Perplexed looks all around.
Seok Jeong, the External Steward overseeing the branch, continued calmly.
"Without the token, we'd appreciate waiting until we verify with the main house."
Eom Pung bristled.
"Even express pigeon takes a month—wait that long? Outside the gates?"
"Regrettably, our branch isn't hosting guests."
"He's no guest!"
Such shabby treatment.
"Can't know that for sure."
"With gates barred like that, no wonder you're out of the loop. Blaming the Young Master now, Steward?"
From their side, they were just doing their duty—but the frustration was stifling.
"The missing token's the issue. We're following protocol. Childhood acquaintances aside, no one here can vouch for him as Third Young Master."
Eom Pung advanced; the guards drew swords.
Sreung!
The unit matched them, hands on hilts.
Half-drawn blades at the ready—a servant rushed in desperately.
"Pl-please calm down! Warriors!"
Not her place, but with so few guards, it laid bare the branch's desperate state.
"Eom Pung."
Seo Mun-ha waved lightly to restrain his men.
"...Yes."
Eom Pung glared at the nameless guard before slamming his half-drawn sword home.
Sreung!
He whipped his head away with icy eyes.
"Well, our fault for losing the token."
Seo Mun-ha shrugged. Behind him, Gu Chil pulled agonized faces unseen.
The External Steward cupped his fists formally, dismissing guests.
"Thank you for understanding."
"No, about that."
Seo Mun-ha, still standing rigidly, pointed at a guard.
"Per your rules, Steward—if someone's here to vouch for my identity, that should suffice, right?"
Unlike the others, this one avoided his gaze.
"Isn't it?"
"I, well..."
As the mumbling guard evaded, realization dawned on the steward.
"You... you're from Shandong, aren't you?"
Seo Mun-ha naturally didn't recognize him.
Not this guard, nor anyone else in the Hangzhou branch—not even Seo Mun-u, the branch head and Second Young Master.
Yet this guard's suspicious reaction betrayed deep familiarity—from the Shandong main house.
"Why stay silent earlier?"
He was a guard transferred to Hangzhou after trouble befell Seo Mun-ha in Shandong.
"If you'd escorted the Third Young Master before, you'd know at a glance."
He'd served Seo Mun-ha for years.
"Is this man truly the Third Young Master?"
He'd held his tongue out of intimate knowledge—second only to A-so—and fear of repercussions from his prickly temper.
"Speak plainly. I won't punish you now."
"Y-yes, it is."
The guard finally confessed, unable to dodge.
Fear of immediate blame warred with an indescribable pressure choking him.
Seo Mun-ha's silent gaze forbade lies. A stillness like eons passed.
Suddenly, Seo Mun-ha sighed deeply.
Regret mingled with the cold remnant of his breath.
"My apologies, Third Young Master."
The External Steward bowed low.
No fault of his, but the diligent elder outdid even Eom Pung.
"My failing in training my subordinates—punish me per clan law."
"Forget it. You're short-handed as is—I'll let it slide this time."
"...My thanks for your mercy."
The branch's heavy gates swung wide.
"Ah, come in, please—no need to stand on ceremony."
"Prepare quarters for the unit first."
The Radiant Heaven members finally relaxed, crossing the thick threshold.
"And for the Young Master..."
"I'm fine."
"Then allow me to guide you to the inner quarters personally."
Seo Mun-ha followed the External Steward, surveying the compound.
The layout was standard, but time's scars lingered inescapably.
Deserted above all, just as sensed from outside.
"This is the office. Your quarters are separate..."
As the meticulous tour continued, Seo Mun-ha—having confirmed details—broached the main topic.
"That said, this branch right now..."
Hardly the quiet of a locked-down estate—quite the racket.
"External Steward!"
A familiar servant shouted urgently, just as at his arrival.
"What now?"
"Visitors! More guests have come!"
Fresh news pierced the thick walls in quick succession.
"We've said repeatedly no guests..."
He trailed off, turning to Seo Mun-ha.
"What say you?"
"To what?"
"Decide as you will, Young Master. With the branch head absent, authority falls to you now—not me."
Seo Mun-ha, freshly arrived at the office.
"...Let them in and escort to the guest hall. I'll head there shortly—handle any issues yourself."
His first task upon reaching the branch: receiving guests.
Sabak.
Self-imposed or not, no rest after scaling mountains.
"...Huh?"
In the guest hall, Seo Mun-ha glanced back at the plaque.
Unfamiliar turf—had he gone astray? A sweet floral scent wafted from the entrance.
"Seo Mun young master."
Not the dining hall, but guest quarters.
Amid unfamiliar warriors, one stood out.
"Have you been well?"
A woman welcomed him with a smile blooming like spring flowers.
Caught off guard by the unforeseen encounter, he voiced her name.
"Baek Ri-seol, little aunt?"