Roots Supporting the Tree
The next morning.
Jang Muhwi stretched and headed toward the training grounds in front of the reception hall.
He had been about to pick up a wooden sword from the weapon rack to loosen his body when he suddenly stopped.
A sharp gaze was pricking the back of his head.
Jang Muhwi quietly turned around.
The elite warriors of the Qinghai Branch and the lower-ranking martial artists were watching him with bright, gleaming eyes.
When Jang Muhwi tilted his head in confusion, Galmu-ryang stepped forward with an awkward smile.
“Sorry I didn’t tell you ahead of time.”
Galmu-ryang scratched the back of his head with the arm thickly wrapped in bandages.
The others were in the same state.
Not a single one of them was uninjured.
The lower-ranking martial artists were relatively fine, but they had all been deeply shocked by the events of that day.
Yet here they were at the training grounds first thing in the morning?
Jang Muhwi couldn’t understand it.
“Your bodies aren’t fully healed. Why have you come out?”
“We were waiting to train with you. All of us.”
“There are times when rest is more important than training.”
“And…”
Galmu-ryang paused, then glanced behind him.
After exchanging a look with Jung-yong, he quietly raised his hands in a fist salute.
The others followed, offering the same salute toward Jang Muhwi.
Slowly lifting his head, Galmu-ryang continued.
“Thank you. Not only did you save our lives, we never imagined you would step forward like that for our sake. Everyone was deeply moved by your heart. If anything happens to you or your family, we will come running at once. This is our true intention.”
“Thank you.”
Jang Muhwi nodded.
The reason for their behavior was simple.
Yesterday, Jang Muhwi had negotiated directly with an elder from the Sichuan Branch.
It was all because of his memories from his previous life.
If he left empty-handed, the Giyan that Galmu-ryang was supposed to obtain would vanish.
Root out internal enemies and nurture allies.
That was the foundation of strategy.
Jang Muhwi wanted to preserve his side’s fighting power.
So he had proposed handing over the information in exchange for elixirs.
Anyone watching would have laughed and called him insane, but Jang Muhwi’s deal had worked surprisingly well.
In the peaceful Murim of the present, information was the most valuable asset.
Jin Cheon-un, who placed great importance on information, could not possibly stay silent after seeing the traces loaded onto the carts.
It was obviously a major incident.
Yet they had no knowledge of the precise details of what had occurred there.
This was the first major incident in quite some time.
If the Sichuan Branch remained unaware of an event that had taken place in Sichuan, it would be nothing short of an embarrassment.
In the end, Jin Cheon-un had accepted Jang Muhwi’s proposal, even exchanging messenger hawks with Dang Jihwa, who was away on a distant mission.
As a result, they had all benefited.
The elites, including Jang Muhwi, had obtained the Chukryeongdan.
The rest of the lower-ranking martial artists received the Jungyongdan that Galmu-ryang had acquired in the previous timeline.
This was not a reward from the Murim Alliance.
It was payment for the detailed report of the incident.
None of them had likely consumed the elixirs received yesterday.
Elixirs were most effective when taken in perfect physical condition.
The meridians through which energy could surge were crucial for qi circulation, after all.
Jang Muhwi nodded as he observed them.
Their eyes, burning with resolve, intertwined above the training ground.
Just like the roots described in the first chapter of the Mumyeonggeomgyeol.
Tens of thousands of roots gathering to support a single tree.
They were the roots, and each of them was one of Jang Muhwi’s blades.
The sword he once wielded had shattered against the madman’s axe, but now he had gained a new one.
It was then.
Jung-yong stepped forward.
A wooden sword rested in his hand.
“May I ask for a match?”
“Are you sure you’re up for it?”
“I’m perfectly fine.”
Jung-yong swung his arm in wide circles.
Only for a moment. As he rotated his arm, he frowned.
His body had not yet recovered.
Seeing this, Jang Muhwi spoke.
“Let’s rest for now. Besides, it seems the report we gave them wasn’t enough to satisfy them.”
“You’re right.”
Jung-yong looked somewhere and shook his head.
There, members of the Sichuan Branch were openly staring at the training ground.
At a glance, they were clearly not ordinary workers.
They were guards disguised as laborers.
Even after handing over a detailed report yesterday, Jin Cheon-un still seemed unsatisfied.
“They’re probably verifying whether the information is accurate. Since Daoist Jung-yong wrote it in detail, I doubt they suspect anything.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment. Haha.”
When Jung-yong laughed brightly, Galmu-ryang quickly covered his mouth.
He was stopping the laughter that threatened to burst out.
As he said, Jung-yong had been the one to write the report.
The reason he had written it was because he was a Kunlun Taoist.
No one in the orthodox sects would ever suspect a Kunlun Taoist of lying.
But that was a misconception.
Jung-yong had skillfully woven lies into the report.
It stated that although Jang Muhwi had commanded the operation, every martial artist from the Qinghai Branch had joined forces to subdue the madman.
Of course, this had been at Jang Muhwi’s request.
Only then would the logic hold that the elixirs Jang Muhwi demanded should be distributed to everyone.
In that section, Jung-yong had written the falsehood without the slightest hesitation.
He had been more moved by Jang Muhwi’s magnanimous character than by the ethics of the Dao.
When a man lowered his own achievements to share elixirs with others, one could not stubbornly cling to the truth.
Then Jang Muhwi spoke.
“Since we’ve come all the way to Sichuan, shouldn’t we enjoy the local cuisine?”
“I’ll treat everyone.”
“I’ll pay. Yesterday I received not only the elixirs but a considerable amount of money as well.”
Jang Muhwi patted his chest.
That afternoon, Jang Muhwi and his group left the Sichuan Branch.
They had given what needed to be given and taken what needed to be taken. There was no reason to stay any longer.
Besides, no one enjoyed being showered with watchful eyes.
Jin Cheon-un had regretfully urged them to stay a few more days, but Jang Muhwi had insisted on leaving.
They had left all their luggage with the Sichuan Branch.
The carriages and carts would be inspected and then sent to the Qinghai Branch.
Everyone except Galmu-ryang and Jung-yong appeared to be visiting Sichuan for the first time.
They stared with wide eyes, taking in the sights of the marketplace.
Fabric shops displaying bolts of silk in every color, spice shops overflowing with pungent aromas, and performance halls showcasing Sichuan’s famous face-changing opera—everywhere offered something new to see.
Most eye-catching of all were the shops selling local specialties.
Chok embroidery—silk embroidered with intricate patterns—was Sichuan’s famous product.
One story told of an empress so impressed by its three-dimensional quality that she reached out, thinking the butterfly on the silk was about to take flight.
They scattered in every direction to buy the embroidery.
They wanted to prepare gifts to share when they returned home.
After finishing their errands, they agreed to meet at Palmiheon, the largest restaurant in the area.
In truth, this was exactly what Jang Muhwi had planned.
He had important business to handle here.
Specifically, trading information.
Jang Muhwi walked slowly toward one particular fabric shop.
The store looked shabby, but the quality of the silk was excellent.
The Chok embroidery on display was also noticeably superior.
Perhaps because of its humble appearance, the shop had very few customers.
It was exactly the place Jang Muhwi had been looking for.
At that moment, someone behind him tugged at his sleeve.
“Friend, let’s go together.”
“Did you already buy your Chok embroidery?”
“You seem familiar with the area, so I followed you. It looks like you know a good, inexpensive place.”
“Actually, the Chok embroidery I’m looking for is rather special. Will that be alright?”
“If it’s too expensive, my wallet won’t survive. Can I just watch from the side?”
“Feel free. However!”
Jang Muhwi put emphasis on the last word.
Galmu-ryang answered with a startled expression.
“Why the serious face? Any condition is fine with me.”
Galmu-ryang nodded with a solemn look.
In fact, ever since that day, Galmu-ryang had refused to leave Jang Muhwi’s side even for a moment.
Jang Muhwi studied him briefly, then continued in a serious tone.
“What I’m seeking is information. Being with me could bring you harm. Are you still sure?”
“It doesn’t matter. I already lost my life once. You’re the one who gave it back to me.”
“Then follow me.”
At Jang Muhwi’s gesture, they walked slowly toward the fabric shop.
When Jang Muhwi approached, the clerk dusting the shelves paused.
“Sir, what are you looking for?”
“The Chok embroidery I want is rather special.”
“Haha. Tell me anything. If we don’t have it, you won’t find it anywhere in Sichuan.”
“First, the background silk must be redder than blood.”
“Oh, you want the highest grade silk.”
“And the pattern should be flowers.”
“Flowers are common in Chok embroidery, yet they suit it best. An excellent choice. Just a moment…”
“There’s one more thing.”
“Please tell me.”
“I’d like a snake in the pattern as well. A beautiful snake that pairs well with the flowers.”
“Goodness, we don’t carry such strange patterns. I’m sorry.”
“I was told that if I came here from the north, I would find it… how disappointing.”
Jang Muhwi shrugged and glanced toward a corner of the shop.
A black flag had been planted there.
The clerk’s eyes followed his gaze.
His expression changed instantly.
“Where did you come from?”
“Didn’t I say from the north?”
“Exactly where?”
“What would you do with that information if I told you? Shouldn’t you people know better than I do?”
“Hmm.”
“So, will you get me the item?”
“Wait here. I need to visit the outhouse.”
“Go ahead.”
When Jang Muhwi nodded, the clerk disappeared.
Once he was gone, Galmu-ryang asked with a grave expression.
“Just what are you planning to do with such a bizarre pattern?”
“Didn’t I tell you? I need information.”
“What does strange Chok embroidery have to do with information? And that clerk seems suspicious.”
“In what way?”
“I can’t quite put my finger on it.”
“Are you worried he’ll overcharge us?”
“Come on, is this the time for jokes?”
“Look carefully over there.”
“At what?”
“Look at that corner.”
When Jang Muhwi pointed at the flag, Galmu-ryang tilted his head.
“Isn’t that just an ordinary talisman?”
“It’s not a talisman. It’s a sign.”
“A sign? Does that mean this isn’t a fabric shop but a secret organization?”
“Correct.”
“Gasp.”
Galmu-ryang let out a startled breath and looked around nervously.
After a moment he laughed as if it were absurd.
“Haha. You’re joking again.”
“This is the Haomin Sect.”
…
Galmu-ryang stared at Jang Muhwi without a word.
Jang Muhwi smiled and continued.
“Judging by the clerk’s expression, it seems he’ll be able to get me the Chok embroidery I wanted.”
“Hehe. I can never fully read my friend’s mind. That martial art of yours, too…”
Galmu-ryang shook his head.
At that moment the merchant returned.
“I must have eaten something bad this morning—my stomach was acting up, so it took longer than expected. Please follow me.”
“Understood.”
The middle-aged man from the fabric shop guided Jang Muhwi’s group deeper inside.
After passing displays of luxurious silk, he skillfully rotated a framed painting on the wall.
With a creak from the old wooden floor, a secret passage appeared.
“This way.”
The man lit a candle with practiced ease and illuminated the passage.
Jang Muhwi followed lightly behind him.
This visit was the first step toward finding traces of the Demonic Cult.